Revelations sequel
by LopendVuur
Summary: So many novels end with the promise of marriage, and so few describe what happens after. I've often wondered about this particular wedding night, but frankly, Mr Darcy has changed so much by giving him some human feelings, I cannot imagine him, or Elizabeth, fumbling secretly in the dark anymore. Their first efforts must be heart-warming, their married life as well. Purists beware!
1. Chapter 1

As you can see, this story, Revelations sequel, starts with chapter 11. Chapter 1 to 10 are also published on fanfiction as Revelations. The reason being, that the next chapters contain adult scenes, which some P&P- readers might find offensive.

If you really want to get into the mood of this story, I would ask you to read Revelations first, for it explains some of Mr Darcy's less typical behaviour in the following chapters. Not having read Revelations he may seem a bit out of character with Miss Austen's original, since that tells us very little of his feelings about all that has happened before his marriage to Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

Also, Georgiana will have acquired a character out of thin air if you skip Revelations.

That only leaves me to wish you enjoyment of Revelations, and this sequel.

Chapter 11

After a very short, but very enjoyable drive in the relatively unadorned but beautifully crafted carriage that Elizabeth chose, Darcy hands his bride out of the carriage, and leads her to his house, where the door is not held open by a butler, but opened with a key, by himself. All the staff is dismissed for the night, Georgiana has agreed to stay in Bingley's house this once, they have the house all to themselves, they are finally alone.

Darcy carries a little bag with some essentials that Jane has packed for her sister, and as the carriage is taken to the stables by the driver, Darcy lets them in, closes and locks the door behind them and leads Elizabeth to his own bedroom, a large, comfortable room on the first floor.

He helps her into a comfortable chair next, and kneels before her. She still looks like some princess, in that absurdly rich dress, diamonds strewn all over her hair. 'How are you, love?' he asks softly, 'you look tired.'

And she does, sitting there she seems ready to go to sleep, so vulnerable, he has never seen her this way, his beloved. Still feeling his usual reticence to touch her, it will probably take weeks to fade, he takes her hands and kisses both of them.

She smiles and replies, 'I am very tired right now, but don't worry, if you help me out of this dress and into something more comfortable, and I have the chance to freshen up a little, I will be perfectly fine.'

And with no little trepidation, Darcy helps his beloved to remove her fashionable veiled hat, then all the flowers and diamonds and finally also the bows and pins from her hair, making an invaluable pile on the little table. Then he unhooks the back of the dress, he knows Elizabeth is not used to having a maid and usually wears dresses she can put on herself, this must have felt like being imprisoned all day. And she does heave a sigh of relief when the back is released, asking, 'Do you mind if I undress right here and now? I suppose Jane or someone gave you one of my own dresses to wear tomorrow?'

Does he mind! He cannot think of anything he'd rather do right now than undress her, but he says coolly, 'She did even better, she packed a dressing gown for you. Do you want to wear that, as conciliation for having to walk around in that gilded prison all day?'

'I do want to wear it, Fitzwilliam,' she says, softly and so sweetly, who would have guessed she is so intensely sweet, 'but beloved, not as conciliation for being uncomfortable today. Your gorgeous suit must have been as uncomfortable, and you're not complaining. I have not had the chance yet to tell you how incredibly, heartbreakingly beautiful you look in it. But it cannot be other than very uncomfortable.'

She is right, it is, the stiff collar chafes the sensitive skin of his throat as it has all day, and his arms cannot move freely at any time. Even his chest feels constricted, fortunately he has his own dressing gown within easy reach.

The top of her dress already unfastened, it takes him a while to find the fastenings on the skirt of the dress, but he manages, and she allows him to lift the whole thing over her head, something she would not have been able to do herself, there is so much fabric, so many pleats and folds of it, it's like a labyrinth of soft white cloth. As he puts the dress away neatly, she'll be surprised how well he can do that despite employing a valet, she slips the dressing gown over her underwear, and he gets just a single tantalizing glimpse of her bare skin. But by now he's so uncomfortable in his own tight suit he can only think of getting out of his coat and shirt quickly.

He picks up his own dressing gown, and brings it towards her, then stands as patiently as a horse waiting to have its harness removed. As soon as her small hands touch his back, stroking him through his coat, his discomfort instantly vanishes, to be replaced by growing ardour and expectancy of things to come. He quickly sits down for her to help him remove his boots.

To get out of those knee-high boots Darcy is glad of her help, though he feels a bit ridiculous with a delicate lady in a dressing-gown pulling until they give way. Then he feels ridiculous without them, until he spies Elizabeth looking at him with desire. She wants him as much as he wants her, she doesn't care about seeing him in his pants and stockings.

Elizabeth knows how to remove a gentleman's coat by now, and she does it very deftly, but not in one flowing movement. No, she lingers in certain spots, feeling his chest under his shirt, stroking his shoulders, his back, his arms. Eventually the coat gets removed, and put away as neatly as the dress, and then she starts on his shirt. It has a lot of buttons, and when she has the top dozen undone, the chafing of the collar stops and he echoes her sigh of relief.

She kisses his neck, and his throat, gently, and says feelingly, 'You poor thing, that must sting, it's all red and sensitive. She drops a few more tender kisses on his poor maltreated skin, and lingers again, relishing his scent, still feeling his chest with his shirt still on. She is making it last, this first time, and to help her do that he kisses her ardently, feeling her body under the thin dressing gown, and smelling her scent with as much pleasure as with which she inhales his.

After the kiss she moves on, more buttons to undo, they take a long time because she kisses every bit of his skin that is exposed, a bit surprised to see hair on his chest, she has never seen a man bared. But she will, soon, the buttons are undone, and she helps him out of the shirt, forgetting to unbutton the cuffs at first but correcting that with her nimble fingers when the narrow cuffs won't go over his hands.

He does not put on the dressing gown yet, let her see him with his chest bared, let her feel the muscles and play with his little chest hairs. She puts away the shirt then strokes him eagerly, front, sides, back, kissing him again, and he stands still to let her feel him, despite being rather ticklish he manages to enjoy her touch tremendously, his ardour rising but not uncomfortably so, their small intimacies the last few weeks have hardened him quite a bit.

'You're gorgeous,' she remarks, 'so strong, so lean.' And she strokes him firmly, which makes him glad since too gentle a touch might tickle him, causing him to twitch at her touch, as a horse does when touched gently. Isn't it weird, that he knows exactly what a horse's coat feels like and how it reacts to touch, but has never touched a woman's skin before? But then she moves on, kneeling in front of him and unbuttoning his trousers, and he forgets everything as ardour takes him again.

None of the stories he read dealt with a lady of no experience undressing a man, will she be put out with what is carefully hidden down there? Should he do this in private? But she will find out eventually, so what would be the advantage? He cannot decide, so he lets his beloved make the decision, and she isn't planning to stop and let him change by himself.

She moves on steadily, buttons undone she carefully pulls his trousers down, difficult because they are skin-tight, Darcy feeling slightly anxious she might accidentally hurt him if she uses too much force, but as his erect manhood halts the descent of the tight garment, she leads the fabric around it very carefully, stroking his buttocks and legs in the process.

His urges are now mounting steadily, he can still think, but only a little, and of course Elizabeth notices. She lets him keep his underwear for now, and helps him into his dressing gown quietly, his ardour settling at a steady high point that is easily controlled.

He feels a little like the patient horse again, as he is led towards the bed gently, where his love sits down and invites him in her arms.

She really is taking her time, or isn't she? He finds himself kissed with ardour again, and then her voice sounds near his ear, decidedly husky, 'I have no idea how to continue, Fitzwilliam, I want to just touch all of you, but you keep freezing, trying to control yourself and then it feels like I'm teasing you. Can you enjoy any of it?'

That is a misunderstanding, she has no idea of his extreme ardour, she's so quiet and loving.

'I most certainly enjoy your touch, love,' he answers, slowly, 'but I need to control myself for if I don't, I'll grab you and do something to you that will hurt you. Not that I've ever done it myself, but I've found some books in my library, you know it was my father's before me, and his father's before that? They were hidden, but I found them after a short search.'

A broad smile spreads over her face, 'Of course, a book, how could it be different? Always improving your mind, Fitzwilliam, I should have known you'd do it reading even on this...sensitive subject.'

How could he not love her to bits? Was there ever a woman who would take the initiative in her wedding night, then admit she hadn't a clue, and show concern at him not enjoying it, then laugh at him for reading up on it? He leans over her with his chest on hers and kisses her deeply, and his weight on top of her clearly stimulates her immensely, she holds on to him so tightly, and answers his kiss so passionately.

When that kiss is done, he asks, 'Do you want me to tell you what I read, or do you want to experiment a little, and learn as we go?'

'Maybe a bit of both?' she offers, 'why not touch a little and you tell me when it is too much, and when there is something interesting we could do?' He answers with a big smile of his own, then sits up and unties her dressing gown. She does the same to his, and they don't put them away neatly, but throw them in a corner.

She shows him how to unhook her little corset, and when it is removed, he reverently touches her small, white breasts and smells and kisses them. Now he can sense a bit of true heat in her, she is so controlled, nothing seems to really disturb her. But no, she is stroking him again, and he realises she just shows her heat differently, she does feel it all the time.

Stroking every part of him, from his hair to his face, then down all the time, his neck, his chest, his stomach, she reaches his underpants and resolutely but gently takes them off him. His manhood stands out with his excitement, it looks huge this way, of course she doesn't know that it is usually smaller, she doesn't seem to be shocked or afraid, though, just curious and very gentle.

'Can I touch it? Will it hurt?' she asks, and he laughs and replies, 'You can touch it, the only very sensitive bit is the tip, the rest likes to be handled firmly, but beware: according to the stories I read handling it will drive me mad with lust. So let's take it easy.'

She hears the humour in his voice, but the controlled heat as well, and she very gently touches his manhood, stroking the soft skin, saying, 'It feels very curious, soft and hard at the same time.' Then she takes hold of it firmly, as he said, and he breathes in abruptly with the fervour it causes him. Of course he has done that to himself many, many times in the long and lonely years of his adulthood, iron self-control does have its limits after all, but having her do it feels ever so much better.

'Better leave that for a bit,' he pants, 'that's a bit much for now, the best of my stories always start with the lady. With your permission?' He moves in and removes her underwear, finding a patch of curly hair, something he did expect from his efforts to 'improve his mind'. Imagine anyone using that phrase ever again, it'll have both of them in stitches, and blushing the most brilliant shade of scarlet no doubt.

Beneath the hair she is supposed to have a very sensitive bit that probably doesn't have a decent name at all, the book uses only rude slang. He carefully pushes aside the hair and the fleshy bit covering it, and the most private bit of a woman is revealed to him. Just touching the flesh protecting it gets a very passionate reaction out of his beloved, she shivers and moans, and looks at him in wonder.

As he follows written instructions and bends over to take a taste of it, and another one, she groans and observes, huskily, 'I'll never laugh at you reading up on something again, Fitzwilliam, this is just incredible, so good. I wish I had thought of improving my mind on this subject myself.'

He pauses his ministrations, a bit reluctantly, for this is the softest flesh he has ever tasted and he wants more, make her groan again, and says, 'I can just imagine you rifling through your father's library. What if you had found something like that? At least I knew what my father was like before I read this, he used to encourage me to let go of my principles and just indulge myself, I knew there would be something like that even in his London library. It's pretty lewd, Elizabeth, though I'll give it to you to read if you want to.'

'I do, now stop talking and go on, I want more.'

Feeling elated, he replies humbly, 'Yes, mistress, with pleasure,' then makes her moan again, quickly finding the best place to touch from the intensity of her reactions.

It happens exactly as in the book, his licking makes her moan softly, then it causes her to shudder, and after some time of rising tension she suddenly has some kind of release, and she speaks again, heat still colouring her voice, 'That was the best feeling I ever had, incredible! What's next? I'm starting to get some faith in your book.'

'Well, I can do that as many times as you like, and you could do it with me, too. But that could make me hurt you again, for it might make me lose control, that happens a lot in the book. Of course those men aren't gentlemen, but let's not take any chances.'

Now he experiences some doubt, for what they usually do in the book is the thing that can hurt if the girl is untouched. But in the stories they were rough, and he is going to be very careful.

'Will you show me? I feel very flushed, and something burns down there, I don't think we're done here, and you're still very excited, I can tell.'

She seems eager, so he'll try, but, 'Tell me if it hurts, I don't want to cause you pain.'

Now he licks her a bit more until she is moaning again, and simultaneously feels a tiny bit lower down for a little entrance that should be there. There is, but it's very small, he can fit a finger in, but barely, and apparently he is supposed to put his manhood in there, all of it, that's obviously why men and women have those parts after all. It's not as if they haven't seen that happen on the streets, with dogs, or on his farms, with cattle. That must be what makes it so shameful, acting like an animal.

But that one finger makes her positively shudder, and it feels rather moist and slippery, so it must really be meant for that, and his body is insistently urging him to do it as well. It must be right then, and he'll try it when she is so heated she may not feel the pain. That it is going to hurt is obvious, it is really quite a bit too small to fit in.

He cannot really stop himself anymore, feeling the warm inside of her, tasting her, it has to be now! And he carefully and deliberately moves up a little bit, spreads her legs further to fit himself between them, and guides his manhood into that tiny opening.

As he feels her warmth closing in around him, he loses all coherent thought in ecstasy, that's so good, he wants to push himself in harder, and further, lose himself totally in this incredible feeling.

But his innate control takes over, that would be what hurts his love, letting go and forcing himself in, he needs to be gentle and check how it feels to her. He looks at her face, she is not suffering at all, she is in as much ecstasy as he is, opening herself to him, moaning, and when he seems to be unable to go in any further, it's just too small, she grabs hold of his buttocks and pulls him in all the way with force.

His feelings explode, and he wants to feel that again and again, starting to obey his urges once more, moving up and down, feeling and hearing Elizabeth's approval and responsiveness, as she says, 'It doesn't hurt, truly, you can do it harder, and faster. I want you to, it's so, so good.'

So he finally lets his control go altogether, giving in, plunging in and out with relish, until they both become frantic with lust and indeed behave much like beasts, rutting and panting together until she arches and cries out, seconds before he himself is overcome by an ecstasy so intense it is almost painful, and a blessed release immediately after.

His fervour has caused him to exert himself beyond his physical limit, and he is out of breath and his stomach hurts. But he doesn't care about that at all as he lets himself fall on the bed beside her, panting and feeling more than a bit awed at the same time.

She snuggles against him and gives him little kisses, looking at him with a very soft expression, stroking his sweating, heaving body, and she observes, 'You're so smart to read up in situations like these.'

Rolling towards her, he strokes her hair and her face, feeling very pleased at her compliment, and sated, very sated and actually, rather sleepy.

He doesn't remember any of those stories warning him he will fall asleep immediately after making love, but there is no help for it now, he's not going to stay awake whatever he tries.

Last thing his conscious thought registers is Elizabeth covering him lovingly with a blanket, and then he's fast asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 12

When Darcy awakes at dawn his beloved is still asleep, and he watches her sleep with intense happiness, feeling his heart swell just seeing her in total relaxation, her body spread out over the bed in boneless grace. The knowledge that from now on, they can be together like this every single morning and evening gives him a little thrill. He restrains himself from stroking her bare breast, it looks so tantalizing, so warm, so soft.

As he leaves the bed, forced by his need to use the privy, her hand reaches out after him, but he really needs to go, he will be right back. When he returns, she is waiting for him, wide awake, smiling. He crawls in beside her, and they relish their togetherness, unable to refrain from touching each other, starting slowly, but with rising ardour. Elizabeth excuses herself to visit the privy herself, and when she comes back there is no stopping them, before long they are exploring their new field of education again, with gusto.

This time, Darcy doesn't fall asleep instantly.

Realising they are in their wedding bed, he says: 'Good morning, Mrs Darcy.'

Apparently she is not sated at all, yet, for she doesn't just smile at him, but nuzzles him as well, stroking his naked body with leftover heat, saying: 'Good morning to you too, Mr Darcy.'

Oh, that still has his attention instantly, or is it her hand on his thigh? No, nothing happens down there, this excitement is purely in his mind, he's a total slave to that perky tone of hers.

'You really do react to that,' she observes with a fond smile, 'that's just so endearing! Like seeing you sleep, I thought I'd melt on the spot, you looked so tranquil. I hope I'm not the one putting such strain on you by day.'

He shakes his head, and says: 'I'm sure I'll look as relaxed as that all day when we've been married for six months. Unless Georgiana really starts dating an Italian pianist.

I owe you an apology for falling asleep on you like that yesterday night. That was very un-gentleman like.'

'Apology accepted, I was worn out myself, I didn't look at you very long before I fell asleep with an arm and a leg around you. What's this about Georgiana dating an Italian pianist?'

Her heat seems to have waned now, his own is totally gone, but he nonetheless feels like stroking her hair, running his hand through her long straight tresses, the first time he has actually looked at her with her hair down. It is a magnificent sight.

Languidly he replies: 'It's a joke between us, she asked me whether I would be mad if she didn't marry at all, or someone below her, and I told her she could marry a Russian pianist if he really cared about her. She was certainly interested in marrying a pianist, but preferred an Italian.'

'And her current master isn't an Italian?'

Darcy shakes his head: 'Nor a Russian, he's a young and rather good-looking Englishman, but very mild tempered, and Georgie entrusted me with the knowledge that she didn't like docile men. She said she was a true Darcy, and needed a man with backbone. I haven't given up hope that she'll meet a nice gentleman, though.'

'Imagine her saying that,' Elizabeth says fondly, 'I thought she was shy, but she had firm opinions on Miss Bingley as well, and on several more interesting subjects. That must be a real comfort to you, having your sister turn out observant and rather assertive.'

'It is now, but she wasn't docile for nothing, I'm afraid I was too strict with her. I liked her easy to handle, but after Hunsford I looked at her with other eyes, and became afraid she might be easy to take advantage of, having so little will of her own.'

Elizabeth squeezes him tightly and says: 'Don't take everything upon yourself, Fitzwilliam! You cannot suppress someone's spirit like that, it would come out one way or the other. She most likely was naturally docile, and is now growing up with self-confidence, and that is because she trusts you. You are a good and loving brother, not some kind of tyrant.'

Then she looks him straight in the eye and adds: 'Stop berating yourself so, you really weren't as bad as you say, you just were reserved among strangers. Those Hertfordshire people can silence me in a minute, too. My father never goes out because of them. Actually, he's worse than you in being disdainful, but I was always his favourite so it never bothered me. You slighted me, and I felt insulted. My reproofs were very personal, Fitzwilliam, and mostly hurt pride.'

'I just hope you are right, Elizabeth. I have been so very sorry for having slighted you, I have regretted the first impression I made on you for such a very long time. I love you so much.'

It is so good to fondle her and kiss her without his ardour getting in the way.

'And I just hope Mrs Reynolds will approve of me, she was very determined that no lady was good enough for her master.'

Darcy nibbles her earlobe, and says: 'Once she sees me totally smitten and always fondling you, she'll wonder how I managed to act so normal for all those years, and feel sorry for you.'

Shaking her head at this totally different Darcy, Elizabeth first takes her time to stroke his face, his hair, and his chest once more, then asks: 'Will we see Georgiana before we leave? I feel bad for having driven her out of her own home.'

'We will, I've arranged to have breakfast together, a very late breakfast, and then we can talk a little until the diamonds have been fetched by the banker. Plenty of time to talk, I'd say.'

Then on impulse he asks: 'Will you help me dress? I'm used to having a valet.'

She looks at him intently, not sure whether he is serious or joking at her expense, and replies: 'I'm going to take every opportunity to touch you, so yes. But you're not going to wear one of those strangler coats today, or during our entire honeymoon, are you? I thought we were going to be alone, mostly?'

'I thought you liked seeing me well-dressed?' he replies, stoking up the fire a little.

Oh, I like seeing you dressed like a dandy,' she replies, still serious, 'and I like dressing you, and I like undressing you even more, but when we are alone I want to put my hand under your shirt whenever I feel like it. And that won't work if your coat is so tight I have to sit on your chest to get the buttons closed.'

Then she looks at him with her eyes narrowed: 'You're not serious, you're having me on!'

'Of course I am, how can I climb hills with you, or catch trout with you or teach you how to ride a horse if I cannot move my arms or even breathe?'

'I can ride,' Elizabeth observes, 'I just don't like horses. Or riding.'

'You'll like riding with me,' Darcy states, 'I have good horses.'

Does Elizabeth look positively afraid now? 'I'm not going to force you to ride, Elizabeth,' he says quickly, 'not if you're afraid to. I thought you merely found them annoying, or smelly.'

'If I objected to the smell of horse, I would certainly not have married you, Fitzwilliam. You always smell slightly of horse. Well, not now, but when you're in the country. I like it when you have horse in your personal scent. And anyway, do your horses smell less than my father's?'

She's right, his horses do smell the same as anyone else's, but it's good to know she doesn't object to him having a whiff of horse about him. But now she's about to tell him what really bothers her about riding.

'I just hate being stuck on such a big, strong animal without the slightest chance of controlling it or saving myself if it were to shy or bolt.'

Just as he is about to protest that a horse can be controlled nearly at all times, and that he has several very even-tempered riding horses in his stable, he gets it. Of course! As a lady, Elizabeth is expected to ride on a sidesaddle, and Darcy can certainly understand she doesn't like doing that at all. He certainly wouldn't.

A bit disappointed, he was so looking forward to riding together, he admits: 'I just realised you've learned to ride on a sidesaddle. I can imagine that didn't work out for you, you're too independent for that.'

Almost ready to give up on one of his fondest wishes, an idea strikes him, but it is very indecent, and Elizabeth will probably not agree to it: 'Would you dare to have me teach you to ride astride?'

'I would dare, but you wouldn't,' she throws at him, she honestly cannot believe he would dare thwart decency and tradition by letting his wife straddle a horse. 'Mrs Reynolds would certainly catch us at it. And I'd have to wear trousers.'

Picturing Elizabeth in trousers, Darcy finds his ardour building up again, that is just incredible, so quickly?

'It would be very indecent, wouldn't it?' he asks, almost whispering.

'Very much so. Your connections would censure, slight and despise you for it,' Elizabeth teases him. He has to laugh at her expression and what she says, but he can feel the result of his imagination getting stronger.

'The ideas springing up in my mind thinking of you wearing trousers and straddling a horse are fit for one of those lewd books,' he breathes, truthfully.

'Then we won't do it,' she replies, eyeing him critically. 'If you really want me to, I'll borrow a riding dress your sister has outgrown, and try out the most docile horse in your stables to accompany you.'

She would do that for him? Unfortunately, it is not going to be possible: 'Georgiana doesn't ride, so there is no riding dress, sidesaddle or horse suitable to carry one on the entire estate.' For just a second, he cannot hide his disappointment.

Elizabeth now smiles sweetly, but also cheekily, and says: 'Then I'll have to practise straddling things, starting with...you.' And she's on top of him, still under the blankets, but totally nude, that is not going to help getting the idea of her riding a horse astride disconnected from lewd thoughts.

But he is not going to tell her that, if his wish of riding together is always going to stay a wish, he will learn to live with it. Soon, any disappointment he still feels is fading rapidly under her loving hands and her ardent kisses. And when she sits up a little and down again, right on top of his manhood, he loses any capacity to think.

They are in time for their late breakfast, with enough time to spare to dress. Darcy needs no help to get into his hunting gear, which Elizabeth insists on him wearing for their long journey. 'I bet you have plenty of good clothes on your estate, just wear something comfortable on the road. And anything looks good on you anyway.'

Why do her matter-of-fact compliments make him feel so warm, so pleased, when Miss Bingley's outrageous flatteries only managed to irritate him? Is it just love? Or is it the contrast with her teasing? It cannot be, he loves to be teased by his Elizabeth, the way she looks at him as she delivers one of her saucy comments.

Suddenly he realises he will change even more, having all one's follies mirrored right back, but with humour, can only make a person wish to get more, by acting more foolish all the time. Mrs Reynolds will be scandalized, but that cannot be helped, he cannot go back to who he was, Mrs Darcy will never allow that. That sounds so good, and he had so nearly given up hope.

Never has a man been more fortunate than himself, look how pretty she is, lost in thought for a moment, though she seems almost earnest somehow, he will have to kiss her to get her to smile at him again.

Elizabeth wonders if she pushed him too far this time, bossing him around like that, he's used to having his own way, have others jump for him, not to having someone so much his junior, a woman at that, telling him what to wear. Maybe she should check herself a little, this isn't Jane after all, or even her father. She's with her husband now, and he's only developed a sense of humour very recently.

She did get the impression that he liked her taking charge yesterday night, very much so, and this morning, but Charlotte warned her that men are totally different creatures in the bedroom, not a thought to elaborate on in her cousin's case, but anyway, better take a little time to see how far she can go with Fitzwilliam.

He seems lost in thought, though he has a little smile on his face, and now he's looking at her and he doesn't seem put out, rather the opposite. The way he looks at her sometimes, like just now, for instance, it's breathtaking, he'll want to kiss her next, and that is fine, but Elizabeth can hear the house come to life with a activity, it must be the servants preparing breakfast, or maybe Georgiana is already here. Shouldn't they spend some time with her after banishing her from the house all night and leaving her alone for nearly three weeks in an hour or so?

Elizabeth seems to enjoy the kiss, and she answers it readily enough, but it doesn't make her smile, she seems distracted. Darcy remembers reading about ladies not liking being intimate all the time, that cannot be true for his beloved, can it? She was forward enough yesterday evening, the very thought of that night makes his knees weak, that must have been real, she must have enjoyed that, she did tell him she enjoyed it.

And this morning, straddling him, a lady doesn't do that from a sense of duty to her husband, it must have pleased her to do that.

'That might be your sister, Fitzwilliam, aren't you afraid to leave her waiting all by herself?'

It has nothing to do with him, she's afraid Georgiana is waiting! 'I don't expect her yet, my love, and if it was her and she was bored, we'd hear the piano. It's probably the staff come back.'

That seems to settle her, and now he does get his smile, a large, ravishing one, and a kiss that causes the rest of his doubt to vanish. Elizabeth has no problem at all being intimate, she loves it. He can't wait for the coming weeks, just the two of them, no duties, no visitors, no friends, no family.

After that kiss they really have to go downstairs for breakfast, and indeed spend some time with Georgiana. She has weathered a night in Bingley's town-house pretty well. 'When we got home it was time to go to bed, though Mrs Hurst did have a few tears to help dry in Miss Bingley's case,' Georgiana says, 'I don't know whether they were real or for my benefit, you know, to tell you about them, Fitzwilliam. But since you're married now telling you that she cried about it will not give her another chance at you, so I guess they must have been real.'

Since Elizabeth can easily believe Miss Bingley to be truly in love with Fitzwilliam, she even manages to feel a bit sorry for her erstwhile rival. Miss Bingley must be pretty disappointed to have witnessed the man of her dreams getting married, after seeing him fall in love with someone other than herself slowly, tiny bit by tiny bit, her rival someone she herself never judged worthy of any notice, helpless to do anything about it at all. Miss Bingley never had a chance, but was too confident to realise it.

Of course at sixteen, Georgiana has no such finer feelings, and she says bluntly: 'If I were Miss Bingley, I would have said she looked a fright the next morning, haggard face, dark circles beneath her eyes, blowsy hair and I 'wouldn't even mention her dress, as if she just didn't care'. But I'm not, so I'll just tell you breakfast was not very entertaining, with Bingley off to escort Miss Bennet and her family back to Hertfortshire, Miss Hurst away to visit a friend, Miss Bingley pushing about her food on her plate and sighing, and me wishing their piano was in better tune.'

Elizabeth already feels guilty for Georgiana having been forced to spend another morning with Miss Bingley, and this doesn't make it any better, until Fitzwilliam sees her expression and gives her a big wink. Georgiana continues with gusto: 'After breakfast I played her some consoling opera pieces, and that did work, for she soon improved enough to want to discuss all our relations' clothes at the wedding, and all the young men she'd danced with.

And with her brother engaged she was eager to marry me off, I think that is her next goal in life. She'd better marry herself off first, she's waited for you so long, Fitzwilliam, she is in danger of getting left behind.'

Now Elizabeth can see that Georgiana is not put out but in fact relishes to talk that way. Her sister-in-law truly dislikes Miss Bingley, but she is a bit like Elizabeth's father, very clever at making the most of an unpleasant situation.

Though it will be hard to leave her behind once again, it will only be for three weeks, including travel to and from Pemberley, and after that she will have the near constant companionship of her brother, a pleasure she has never really had before. And she will also be spared the irksome company of Miss Bingley, for Elizabeth will not accept that lady's presence in her house outside the occasional week's visit.

So now it is almost time to leave, and Elizabeth chats with Georgiana as Fitzwilliam takes an immaculately dressed gentleman to his study to hand over his family's diamonds. And Mrs Annesley arrives, Elizabeth has no clue where she stayed the night, she may have family in London, she is a misses after all. Elizabeth guessed she was a widow, but maybe she does have a husband yet living.

When Fitzwilliam returns from seeing the gentleman out, they take leave and Elizabeth is handed into the carriage by her doting husband. They wave at Georgiana through the window until they can no longer see her. And their honeymoon has begun.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 13

As they drive away from London towards Derbyshire, usually a three day trip, but Fitzwilliam has proposed to take four days to really enjoy their time together, Elizabeth finds herself a bit downhearted. She will never go back home, except as a guest, and every league they travel now takes her further away from her father and from Jane. For a moment her throat feels as if it is too narrow, and her eyes sting, but she is not going to break down crying for her old life.

She has married a man who loves her for her strength of mind, not for her dependent nature, it may upset his image of her to see her cry. During their engagement she felt so connected to him, but seeing his town-house and meeting his family and connections she has started to realise how much their circumstances differ, and how little they actually know one another.

It was easy to be madly in love with her handsome husband while living with her parents, in the house she grew up in, everything around her familiar, her future secured from want and having to live among people with inferior minds.

But now she feels totally at the mercy of the man she married, they are driving in his carriage, from his exquisite London home to his magnificent estate, Elizabeth of course knows the road, she has travelled it with her aunt and uncle after all and they checked their progress regularly with the help of a detailed road map. But Fitzwilliam arranged everything, he consulted her, but he did every practical thing himself, arranging the marriage, having the invitations sent, deciding what dinner was to be served, the inns where they will stay during the trip.

Will she ever be allowed to make a decision of her own?

Despite spending months thinking of the role she wanted Fitzwilliam to have in her life, having seen his estate, having gained quite a realistic insight in his character, finally deciding she did love him and wanted him part of her life, she really doesn't have a clue how he pictures her as his wife. Will he expect her to spend her days dressed up as a pretty ornament for his sitting-room? Will she have to visit poor families? Will he be out hunting all day, leaving her behind with his sister and a piece of needle-work? What will her life be like?

Even Elizabeth's strong, positive character has some difficulty with so much insecurity, and she suddenly remembers Charlotte's opinion, that one might as well get married without knowing the other party too well, since happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance. That is not a comfortable thought at all, and she opposes it by thinking of last night, didn't she see a totally different Fitzwilliam then, who let her explore his body at her leisure, not taking control at all? And isn't he madly in love with her, just look at the adoring expression with which he watches her even now. He doesn't want to rule her, or he wouldn't have insisted on her not promising to obey him.

Darcy has been watching Elizabeth for some time, feasting his eyes on his beloved, and much of her feeling can be read from her face. She is not as deliriously happy as he is, she seems close to tears even, until she forcibly represses that, but her thoughts are clearly not very cheerful. Whatever can be the matter? She's exchanging insecurity for wealth, a tiny room in a country house for an entire estate, and her noisy family for a doting husband.

His wealth. His estate. And she loves her family.

A deep, sedate voice breaks the silence and says gently: 'You miss them already, don't you? Your family, your little room, your favourite walks?'

And sure enough, her expressive face shows her anxiety clearly now, and he gathers her to himself, sets her light shape on his lap, rests her head against his chest. 'Better let it out love, you'll feel much better after a good cry. There you go, I'm here with you, I love you so much, if you're sad I want to share it with you.'

His dearest Elizabeth feels free to cry a little, not too much, she's very strong and independent after all, but she holds him tightly and spills a few tears.

'I'm sorry I didn't realise earlier that you are leaving everything behind. To me it's as comfortable as always, only with my fondest wish fulfilled, I'm in heaven with you by my side.

But to you everything must be strange, and a little intimidating as well, a whole new life.'

That is not all, he can see there is more, but she dare not even mention it. How can that be? Elizabeth has never been daunted by anyone, not even his rather formidable aunt Catherine, how can she be afraid of someone now? Especially since that someone seems to be him.

'Please tell me, Elizabeth, it hurts to see you afraid of anything, this is me, your adoring slave.' He lays his head in her bosom to prove he is hers to command, and clearly, humour is the way to her heart, for she strokes his hair and confesses, carefully: 'I never realised how dependent I was going to be upon you, Fitzwilliam. We talked so much, and shared so much, but that was all in my father's house. Now I'm entirely at your mercy, I'll live in your house, the fortune is yours, everything is yours. Will there be anything for me? Some duty I can perform, something to make me myself? Or will I forever be an extension of you? What will my role be in your life? A beautifully dressed addition to your household, gathering more information and accomplishments until I can start carrying and raising your heirs?'

That is not it at all! Any gently bred maiden could do that, that is not why he fell hopelessly in love with Elizabeth! But how to tell her what she means to him, how to put into words what he hopes their life together will be like?

'Can I take some time to formulate my hopes and wishes for us? You're clearly upset, I don't want to make it worse by saying things that aren't perfectly phrased and impossible to explain in more ways than the one I mean.

Will you spoil me a little while I think? I'm getting a bit upset myself, I thought we had a perfect understanding, but I so understand your fears.'

As Elizabeth clings to his neck and strokes his hair and his clean-shaven cheeks, giving him little kisses on his bare skin wherever she can reach it, Darcy tries to gather his thoughts whilst being constantly distracted by some shiver of desire at her touch. Still he manages, and he observes: 'Please allow me some more time if you want me to become specific, but generally I thought we'd be together all the time, I'd love to share my duties with you as much as possible, and if you want we can find some duties for you, too. Of course I'll want to hunt, and if we cannot find a way to do that together, I'll leave you alone sometimes. But you'll want to take solitary walks, won't you? Then you will leave me. I'm sure we'll find a way to make it work.

And if we are to be blessed with children, I'm afraid I cannot take the burden of carrying and bearing them from you, but rest assured I will do my share in raising them. I love children, I've waited so long to find a woman I'd dare to have them with, I promise I will be the best father they can wish for, I'll spoil them rotten.'

On impulse, he lifts Elizabeth from his lap and puts her on the bench of the carriage, then kneels at her feet, head in her lap and begs her: 'And will you please, please talk to me when anything bothers you? If I fell in love with you for your frankness and yes, for your impertinence, how could I ever mind hearing what you feel or think?

I've ached for you for so long, love, do you think I'd just forget about that now we're married, and turn into some kind of tyrant? I'm yours to command, forever.'

As he looks up at Elizabeth he can see her relief, she was worried, and this will not be the last time, she will be sad over her family again, and she will doubt him again, she is dependent on him for material things, but he is dependent on her for his happiness, and they will find the perfect way to live together.

She bends over and kisses him with passion, does it excite her to have him at her feet? It is quite a good place to be, he can feel a bare ankle where her dress has fallen away, can he just follow that leg upward and get under her dress? That would be very indecent, but who would see it?

Then he realises he's not just sitting at her feet, he's actually right between her legs, a dress covers that up neatly but of course she feels him sitting there, remembering last night, and this morning. Laying his hand on her ankle, and slowly moving it upward, he watches her face to see what she thinks of him taking liberties.

Elizabeth can feel Fitzwilliam's mood turn from kind concern to anticipation. He strokes her bare ankle, and doesn't stop there, just as she hopes. Pretty soon he disappears under her dress, stroking her inner thighs, kissing her bare skin and tickling her through one of the leg openings of her underwear.

Since she is not ticklish at all, his touch is very exciting instead, and she wishes she had him within reach, to do her own share of the touching. Now he is trying to pull her underwear down, and she sits up for a moment to help him. Soon it's gone, and she feels two gentle hands spreading her legs, tantalizing, what will he do next?

He goes straight for the fleshy bit, takes a firm hold of it and now his tongue is giving her those little shocks again. There must be something similar she can do for him, didn't he say that yesterday? This is not the place, she knows no-one can see them in here, but it would be very inconvenient with the benches. Oh, that's as good as it was before, apparently one can do this all day long and not get bored.

All too soon, the little shocks cause her head to spin, and she cannot keep herself from moaning. The feeling keeps rising, until she has that release again, and she knows what she wants next, but it is not going to be easy on a carriage seat. But of course her beloved is in the throes of his own desires by now, and he finds a way, hitching up her dress a little bit, unbuttoning his trousers.

First she sees his handsome face right before her, smiling cheekily at his own audacity, then she gets a very heated kiss, and with only a little fumbling under her skirt she can feel herself filled up, ecstasy taking hold of her again. Through a haze of delight she can see her husband totally lose himself in lust, he is really letting go, so good for him. Neither of them lasts very long, it is all so new to them, and they are both so easily excited.

Still giggly and feeling very naughty they put their clothes back to how they were, and sit together in a very tight embrace. They kiss a lot, Elizabeth is still pretty excited, and that seems to amuse Fitzwilliam to no end. She hasn't touched him at all, and needs to catch up, so she shoves a hand up his shirt and fondles his stomach and his chest, playing with the little hairs, relishing the soft muscle under his arm. Her fears are forgotten for now, she is back to being very much in love, and very eager to touch and be touched. Physical contact is such a blessing, how did they do without before? How did Fitzwilliam do without so many more years than herself? He must have been so lonely, with no-one to be really intimate with, not even to have a good talk.

Remembering his demeanour just before he left the parsonage in Hunsford, Elizabeth can imagine how he must have felt that night, and many nights after. Elizabeth had Jane to talk to, but he had no-one that close to him.

Feeling his beloved's grip tighten, he looks at her with a question in his eye, and she answers his unspoken question: 'I am so amazed how good it feels just to touch someone with love. To just sit like this, holding a living, breathing human being close. How did you stand doing without it for so many years? How miserable you must have been that night...you know.'

He knows, and he observes: 'I have been quite alone for years. My father encouraged me to seek comfort where he did after mother passed away, with some ladies in town. But I was too proud to take it, also, I don't think I felt the need as badly as others would have.

I'm convinced I didn't really crave love until I started to yearn for you, and I didn't feel true loneliness until after you rejected me. But Elizabeth, beloved, I needed that rejection, I needed to really suffer the loneliness to learn to appreciate what love has to offer. My misery made me a better man, finally worthy of your esteem. I'm not sorry I suffered, it makes me fully appreciate what I have. I love you so much, just sitting here with you makes me so intensely happy.'

Elizabeth is almost ashamed of her doubts, he loves her so much, he would never neglect her or ignore her wishes. But she also allows herself to be human, she will miss her father and Jane again, and she will feel her dependence again.

They sit together, perfectly happy, until the carriage halts to give the horses their first rest.

'I've picked this place because it is one of the prettiest villages I know. Will you join me in a ramble, not solitary but hopefully in the best company you can imagine?'

'I will,' is her answer, 'am I decent?'

Darcy brushes back her hair a little with his hand, and he straightens her skirts. Then he puts his shirt back into his trousers, glad he has listened to Elizabeth and chosen hunting gear to travel in. Their little escapade just now would otherwise not have been possible.

Elizabeth straightens his collar and his coat, then puts on her own coat, and they get out of the carriage, where Darcy tells Bob, the driver, they will stretch their legs a bit, and to have a cup of coffee and a late lunch on his master's account while the horses eat their ration and rest.

Then he leads his beloved through the tiny village, the cottages well-kept, the gardens bare of flowers in this late fall, the cattle inside, but still it looks very pretty, with the natural stone houses and walls, the painted shutters, and the cosy square with ages old linden trees, now bare of leaves of course but still impressive.

Soon they are back on the road for another few hours, and just before dark they halt in a larger village, where they will spend the night in an ancient inn, a low building of darkened oak, where the village people gather in the tap-room to exchange gossip and to hear the weather-forecast for the next day from the local soothsayer, in exchange for a pint of course.

They have a private room to dine in, and since they arrived in a rather modest carriage and are dressed rather informally, they are treated like any other affluent customer, making Elizabeth a lot more comfortable than a grand inn with preferential treatment would have made her feel.

Of course they retreat to their room soon after dinner, then decide to try to get a bath. The inn does have a bathhouse, but it's communal, and therefore they are forced to bathe separately. Still they feel much refreshed after half an hour, and since they are not yet tired they decide to take a little walk through the village in the dark. Since the streets aren't lighted and the streets are therefore pitch-dark and unfamiliar, the walk turns out to be really short, and Elizabeth convinces Darcy to take a drink in the tap-room, which he would never have done on his own or with his sister.

There is a roaring fire, and a lot of conversation going on, and their host is very friendly. Soon, someone starts singing, and the whole room joins in. It is very amusing, but after one glass of barely acceptable wine the heat and the long journey start to make themselves felt and they retreat to their bedroom.

They are again amazed to find themselves totally on their own, with no-one to look at them disapprovingly as they undress and start to touch even before they are through.

This time, they have just crawled under the cold blankets when Elizabeth decides it is her turn to try something. She remembers Fitzwilliam mentioning she could do something with her mouth with him as well, and she is ready to try.

Her beloved smells of soap instead of himself, he has been very thorough in the bathhouse, and he freezes in anticipation when she moves towards his lower half and takes a firm hold of his manhood. She moves it up and down a few times, and gets an immediate reaction, as a shudder runs through his body and he grips her upper leg in ardour.

Then she takes a careful lick at the smooth tip, and it feels as smooth on her tongue as it looks. The shudder is accompanied by a moan this time. It's kind of fun, and she licks it a few times more, then takes it in her mouth altogether. Her leg is squeezed firmly, there is no doubt this feels very good to her beloved.

Fitzwilliam's reactions indicate that he really likes it, and if it causes him to grab her and take her there is no problem at all, it won't hurt her anymore if he loses control, so she really puts some effort in it. He starts to move along a little, he seems to have a real need to do that, and his sounds indicate an excitement rising fast.

And sure enough, shortly afterwards he spasms intensely, and something salty and hot-tasting sticks to her tongue. It is not very nice, the taste is very intense, and Elizabeth quickly jumps out of the bed and rinses her mouth at the washstand.

Her reaction causes her beloved to ask, mildly worried: 'Is something wrong? That was fabulous, I hope it didn't hurt or anything?'

'Something tasting hot came out, a really weird taste, not nice. I had to rinse my mouth, but it's still there. What is it?'

'Oh, I'm very sorry, I didn't know it tasted awful. Actually, I didn't know anything there for a few minutes, I suppose that is why it's very sinful. Did you realise that stuff is what makes children?' He waits a few moments to let it sink in.

'You've seen it before then?' Elizabeth asks, a bit stupidly, and still a bit bothered by the sticky taste in her mouth, salty, hot, weird. Not something to repeat.

'Countless times, love, when a man has not been with a woman at twenty-eight years, he gains a lot of experience with his own body. Those needs cannot be denied. I've spilled a lot of seed, that's very sinful too.

I cannot stop it from coming, but I more or less know when it will happen, you will not have to endure the taste again.'

'You mean to say that each time we make love, that ends up inside me? And that will make me get with child?'

'Yes, that is more or less how it works. Though it cannot give a child each time, for my parents had just one child between Georgiana and me, and we're twelve years apart. The poor baby didn't survive, my mother was much like my cousin Anne, not very strong. Which is why aunt Catherine's disappointed hope of me marrying Anne had nothing to do with you, I wouldn't have considered it, even if Anne had more character than a glass of tepid milk. Marriage between cousins weakens the blood, there has been too much of that going on in our family.'

The very idea of marrying his cousin is clearly offensive to him. Then his expression changes back to gentle concern: 'Does the idea of getting with child bother you? It will happen, if I am indeed able to sire children, but if I spill my seed outside your body it may take a little longer.'

'I suppose that is the worst sin of all?' Elizabeth cannot help but ask, laughing. He nods very seriously, causing her to laugh even harder, but she replies as seriously: 'It does bother me, yes, of course I knew that children somehow were the result of doing this, I just didn't know how, exactly. Do you have books on that in your library? I need to know.'

Then a terrible realisation: 'Charlotte...my cousin.' He nods again, this time unable to keep from laughing himself. 'She told me that men are totally different in bed, but I didn't catch on until just now... what did she mean? Didn't he excuse himself afterwards?'

That's it, now she's done it, her deadly serious face as she says that has him double up with laughter, not just a fond smile or a short chuckle, no, a full-blown, stomach hurting, tear jerking fit of howling laughter. Darcy cannot remember ever losing himself in pure merriment, but it feels fabulous, and dearest, sweetest Elizabeth, the smartest girl in all of England, gave that to him. The very image of Mr Collins jumping poor Charlotte is enough to set him off again, and Elizabeth joins him, she must see that exact image before her mind's eye, too.

'You're priceless,' he manages to bring out, 'I love you so much.'

They hug and kiss, and as her face turns serious again Darcy fears she really objects to getting with child any time soon, or maybe at all. But she observes: 'My sister, Fitzwilliam, Lydia. I'm pretty sure they make love all the time, and she will find herself with child. How will she ever take care of a child when she cannot even take care of herself?'

His mirth is gone instantly, though the memory remains, and frankly, he is happy that Elizabeth's look didn't concern themselves. Remembering when he found Wickham and Lydia in London, still unmarried, he knows Elizabeth is right, there will be children. He suggests: 'We'll do what your father must have done: hire a really good nurse.' That instantly calms her down, of course her mother was just as flighty in her youth, Mr Bennet must have hired someone to keep the young mother and her child out of trouble. Some things can be solved with money, and this is one of them. But Darcy really wants to know what Elizabeth thinks of getting a child of their own.

'Have you thought of us having a baby already? What do you want, Fitzwilliam? Are you looking forward to having children? Will your family be pressuring you for an heir?'

That's fair, having him answer the question first. 'I certainly want children, but I can wait at least a year, maybe two. I want to enjoy our time together first, just the two of us. But if it happens earlier, I will only mind if you do. And I will be there for you, really. I will not let anyone try to lock you inside the house with stupid superstitions as they did my mother, and I will wait on you hand and foot when you are tired or emotional. Remember, I was nearly twelve when my mother was growing and growing with Georgiana, and I only saw her in the holidays. My father was the best man alive, but he may have left my mother alone a little too often during that time. The servants bossed her almost to death and she was very unhappy for being left alone.'

That is clearly a memory that made an impression on her husband, but he nonetheless continues: 'The family I have left will only benefit if I never produce an heir. So no rush, but if it happens, I will support you.'

Elizabeth nods, and confirms: 'That is about how I feel, I'd rather wait a year or two, but if it happens and you support me, I'll be fine with it. I'm still a bit afraid of your family, after what happened with your aunt. They cannot be happy with me, and I've always been my father's darling, so I'm not used to being unwanted.'

Darcy replies decidedly: 'No-one wants you as much as I, not even your father. And cousin Fitzwilliam was very clear on that: he said if he had the fortune, he'd have married you, and not given a damn about what his family thought. I now support that statement wholeheartedly. If they don't approve of my choice, that is their problem, I fall a little more in love with you every day.'

What he says softens Elizabeth up considerably: 'Did Colonel Fitzwilliam say that? I really did like him, better than I liked you at that time. But I'm glad I didn't marry him, I think the two of us are better suited to each other, and you are so incredibly handsome.'

She kisses him, then snuggles against him, and says: 'I'm so glad you love me so much and express your love so eloquently and so often. It kind of makes up for leaving home, and Jane. We used to talk all night, sometimes.

Suppose I would have had to marry a Mr Collins, to secure an establishment like Charlotte did, and leave Jane for someone I didn't love or even esteem. I couldn't have, I would have become a governess first.'

'You're smart enough to be a governess, but I would have hated to see you humbled that way.' Darcy says that in a light tone, but the very idea of Elizabeth in a subservient position makes him quail inside. That must never happen, she is not meant to bow down to anyone. Not even if he dies without heir. As soon as they reach Pemberley he will make sure of that.

This time, it is Elizabeth who almost falls asleep in his arms, and he strokes her hair and kisses her softly to help her find sleep. Tomorrow will be another tiring day on the road, but they will be together, without other people. Darcy seriously thinks that there cannot be a happier man in the whole country than himself, to have won this marvellous woman and have her love him.

And with that thought he watches her sleep by the light of a cold fall moon. But all too soon he finds his eyelids grow heavy too, and he drifts off to sleep in the arms of the woman he loves to distraction.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 14

The next days of travel are both tiring and exhilarating. So much time to spend together, so much to see and talk about. Of course they get very accomplished at loving on the narrow seats of a carriage, and whenever they stop for lunch they smooth over their clothes and play the newly married couple to perfection, holding hands and nothing more in public.

Travelling with Fitzwilliam is as much fun as with her aunt and uncle Gardiner, he knows so many interesting facts about the country they drive through, and he is so well-read, there is always something to talk about. When Elizabeth suffers from the realisation she will never go home again, or when she fears not to be accepted by the staff for being an upstart, Fitzwilliam always notices, and he holds her or talks to her until she either believes him or doesn't care anymore since his love will make everything good.

Time flies, and before she knows it, Elizabeth is driving through Pemberley woods once again, in a carriage she chose herself for its quiet perfection, the owner of every bit of land and most houses for miles around no longer a rich, vain man she rejected and wronged, but her beloved husband. It is a weird sensation, this very place is where her feelings for Fitzwilliam changed radically, where she finally realised he had good qualities, was a human being and treated others as such.

This is where she will have to find a place among the long time inhabitants, the staff who don't know who is good enough to marry their adored master. Will they give her a chance to fit in?

As they drive up the last hill before they will see the house, Elizabeth is as nervous as the first time but for a totally different reason. Then, she was afraid to meet its owner and be embarrassed. Now, she is its mistress, and afraid to find herself unable to live up to that lofty status.

Darcy can feel her tension, and he takes her in a firm hold and says: 'I will not tell you they're just servants and will think of you as I please, for I know that is not true. Suppose I had brought Miss Bingley here, who treats your aunt and Mrs Annesley as if they are air, let alone the servants, then they would have let her know what they thought of her. But you are very likeable, and you show an interest in people, you care about them.

And I love you, so very much, they will see that immediately, and even if they do not yet know you well enough to love you for you, they will love you for me. Poor thing, you didn't even blink at meeting my family and lofty connections, why be nervous now?'

'I was nervous,' Elizabeth answers, 'it just wasn't obvious because of all the flowers and the diamonds and everything. And you weren't sitting against me so you couldn't feel my tension. And somehow, rich people who live days away don't matter as much to me as real people I will see every day, who will know everything about me, every tiny detail, when I laugh, when I cry, when we make love, when we argue. They will always be there, and talk about it.'

'I absolutely refuse to argue with you, so no danger there. And when your maid gossips about us, she will swoon in the hope to find someone who loves her as much as I love her mistress.'

'You will not force me to have a maid, will you?' Elizabeth is seriously put out by his joking.

'What is it with you girls? Georgiana doesn't want one either, says they gossip too much and watch everything she does. I suppose you want me to let go of my valet as well?' As Elizabeth stares at him, is he serious or is he pulling her leg again?, he laughs merrily and says: 'Valets watch and gossip about their charges too, you know. If I want to lie at your feet and lick your toes, I don't want the whole house to know about it straight away.

And I had really hoped to get you to ride, can't have a maid or a valet see that. Cooks and gardeners and housekeepers don't babble.

Though I actually really like my valet, I'd be very sorry to dismiss him, he'd be hired by another gentleman within the day so no chance to beg him to come back if I were to regret my decision.'

'Don't do it then, Fitzwilliam,' Elizabeth pleads, 'I wouldn't want you to lose out on a servant you like for me.'

By now they've reached the house, and Peter the stable-boy is waiting to assist the tired driver with the horses and the carriage. As Darcy hands his beloved out of the carriage, he wonders if he should tell her that the entire staff will be gathered outside the front door of the house to greet her. She might bolt.

As soon as they are well and truly out, the carriage is led away, the luggage will be taken into the house later.

Walking around the stables to the front door, they are both assailed by memories of the last time they were here together. Darcy feels Elizabeth reaching for his hand, this affects her nearly as much as it does him, of course it is her first time here since that moment of recognition, as she turned around to look back at the house and saw him. Since then, Darcy has walked this path dozens of times, and each time the memory of his first view of Elizabeth since that horrible scene at the parsonage moves him strongly.

Taking a firm hold of her hand, for both their comfort, he can see everyone gathered already, there must be a good fifteen people, men and women of all ages. The cook and his helpers, Mrs Reynolds and the household maids and cleaning help, the gardeners and even the stable staff, excepting Peter and the driver of course. As the master and his wife come closer, they all form a formal line, ready for the introductions. His steward, Nathan, is there, too, so good of him to take the time.

Though Elizabeth does squeeze Darcy's hand when she sees the people gathered to meet them, she does not show any sign of stress, and greets his staff as politely and pleasantly as she did his family and friends at the wedding.

She wants to know everyone's first name, and what their duties are, which takes a long time, but does mean she will be done with the introductions after this. Darcy can see she makes a favourable first impression, how could it be different? His Elizabeth is just perfect.

After nearly an hour everyone returns to their duties, only Mrs Reynolds and the steward are left, and since a light drizzle has started to fall they walk into the house, where Mrs Reynolds says: 'Welcome to Pemberley, Mrs Darcy, I'm certain you will love seeing the parts of the house that are admissible only to the family. We'll have plenty of time to talk later, you must be tired with the journey, and spending so much time on the staff will be very much appreciated. Would you prefer to have coffee or tea and a snack first, or would you rather freshen up a little and wait for dinner?'

Darcy leaves it up to Elizabeth, she is the mistress of the house now, and she talked of duties, so he'd better let her take charge straight away.

'Thank you so much Mrs Reynolds, I think I would prefer to freshen up first, we had a good lunch on the road, unless you're very hungry Fitzwilliam?'

Good, she makes firm decisions, Mrs Reynolds will like that. 'I'm good, as long as I may feast my eyes on you. Let me introduce you to Mr Nathan Brewer quickly, and then I'll show you our private quarters.'

Elizabeth seems to take to Nathan straight away, he is a very likeable man, a bit over thirty and very well-mannered. Handsome too, fortunately he is married and has two lovely children. Nathan soon says: 'I will not detain you any longer. It will be my pleasure, Mrs Darcy, to tell you all about the estate so you have an idea of what is going on here. But not these two weeks, for this will be your honeymoon and there will be no talk of business. I bid you a good day, you too, Darcy.'

'One moment, please, Nathan,' Darcy suddenly remembers, 'I need to see you for half an hour, will tomorrow just after lunch suit you? It's not business, it's personal,' he tells Elizabeth.

She doesn't seem to mind, and Nathan agrees, and with that, Darcy takes his wife's arm and leads her up a the grand stairs to his private quarters, very comfortable and hopefully to her taste. They may be a bit masculine in their décor, but that can always be adapted.

'Do you want to use the washstand, or do you want a bath? We have one that will fit us both, but it takes a while to fill.'

'I'll settle for a quick wash, love,' she replies, 'if we bathe I'm sure we'll get all distracted again and I want to explore while it is still light outside. Let's keep the bath for tonight, and be distracted as much as we like.'

Elizabeth looks around the room with approval, the bed is large, made of oak stained in a dark colour, but not massive, it has a certain elegance despite being of solid wood. There is a large wardrobe of the same wood, a simple design but again, quite elegant. The bedding is a pristine white, and looks very luxurious, very comfortable. Better move on quickly, or they'll be in that bed in seconds, distracted again.

The curtains are heavy velvet in a beautiful dark blue, matching the colour of one wall. There are no ornaments, just a few books and a candle, and of course a pitcher and bowl on their own stand. A very large mirror adorns an otherwise empty wall, is Fitzwilliam vain after all? Why else would he have such a large mirror?

'Don't look at me like that,' he has read her thoughts, he must have, 'I like to look nice, you know that by now, suffering heatstroke and chills to wear the latest fashion in coats. But I'm not that vain, I had that brought here for you, Mrs Reynolds said ladies like to have a really large mirror, and she knew where to find one in the chambers that belonged to my grandmother. I think it fits the room admirably, don't you?'

It is a beautiful mirror, it must have cost a fortune once, and strangely enough it is not at all outdated in style. 'It is beautiful, and it fits the room so well, I indeed thought it was yours, and wondered if you were vain. Thank you for being thoughtful, Fitzwilliam, I really appreciate it.'

And she kisses him on the mouth, but softly, anything can set one of them off now, and then they'll never get to the park today. But is it really that important to start exploring today? Can't they just spend time on each other whenever it suits them, and explore tomorrow? There will be plenty of opportunity.

But Fitzwilliam is showing admirable control, he accepts the kiss as it is offered, and just holds her for a few minutes. 'I'm nearly overcome with feeling, Elizabeth,' he breathes, his voice rough, 'here you are, in my bedroom, married to me, I had totally given up on that ever happening. I spent a whole month at Pemberley, alone, I couldn't face anyone with my grief, this room has seen me in the depths of despair. Mrs Reynolds started to worry that I was sick, I didn't eat, I didn't sleep, I didn't hunt. Everyone was so nice to me, but still I felt miserable.

And now you're here with me, in this very room, I'm so happy I may burst.'

Such love in one human being, and all of it for her. It's almost too much for Elizabeth, he told her he had been lovesick, but not how bad it had been. A whole month by himself, agonising over her? She had never been nice to him, had always tried to get the better of him, how could she ever have deserved such absolute devotion?

Does she deserve it now? She's just a twenty-year old woman with little experience in the world and plenty of shortcomings. It is gratifying to be sure, to be able to make someone so incredibly happy just by loving him and being with him. But isn't it tempting fate, isn't it hubris, to have one's mind set so much on a fallible fellow human? Will he not be certain to be disappointed as he finds more and more signs of imperfection in the woman he worships?

No, he knows whom he fell in love with, he knows her defects and he seems to love her for them as much as for her talents. Something like pride bubbles up in Elizabeth's mind, to have the love of such a man, so universally admired and respected, all to herself. It cannot but please her, and make her eager to return it, it is so easy to love Fitzwilliam, he is such an admirable man, and so handsome and yes, very sweet and loving as well.

'A penny for your thoughts, love?' The way he looks at her now is enough to make her heart skip a beat, such intense love, such devotion. But she has promised him to always say what is on her mind, and she will: 'Will I be able to live up to your image of me? I'm afraid you love me too much and will be disappointed. I'm not some kind of goddess, I'm just a twenty year old woman with a few very irritating character flaws.'

The look of devotion makes way for a really big grin: 'How can you ever disappoint me when you keep saying things like that, things that make me love you even more? You're beautiful, you're smart, and you're delicious, and your so-called flaws are the spicy core of your being. Without them you would be bland, tasteless.

Shouldn't I be the one doubting? You didn't like me before, why should you love me now? Maybe you just married me because you felt guilty for being unfairly prejudiced against me. Maybe you didn't want to hurt me again, maybe what you feel for me is pity, not love.

There is so much I could doubt, but I will not. I will love you to distraction and I will enjoy it. We're married and I can kiss you, and hold you, and talk with you, whenever I want.'

He certainly has a point there, if he doesn't doubt, why should she? They hold each other a little longer, then wash their faces and hands and go outside as long as the light lasts. Darcy shows Elizabeth his favourite spots near the house, a view across the stream in front of the house, the fruit- and vegetable garden, which in winter is merely a lovely plot with a high wall around it, a little Greek-style folly on the opposite side of the house, very secluded and a place that begs for some expert kissing and fondling. Tomorrow they will go further afield, but it is already starting to get dark, and they go back to the house, but through the stables.

Here they meet Peter, and Elizabeth is greeted enthusiastically by the stable boy with the sunny disposition. 'The new Mrs Darcy, I saw you get out of the carriage of course, but I had the team to take care of. So pleased to meet you, I can see the master is very happy to have you home with him.'

He bows as he speaks and is so ingratiating, that Elizabeth feels right at home, and she replies to his greeting with the same friendliness and enthusiasm.

Encouraged by her familiarity, Peter asks: 'May I take the liberty to ask whether you are a rider, Mrs Darcy?'

'You certainly may, but I'm afraid I have to admit that though I can ride, I do not really like to practise my skills. I find horses intimidating, they're so big and strong.'

Darcy adds: 'I would like her to try one of our good-tempered beasts, but I don't think we have a sidesaddle, nor has any of ours been trained to bear one, am I right?'

'I'm sorry Mrs Darcy,' Peter admits, 'I totally forgot ladies generally ride sidesaddle. That would be rather scary, I wouldn't like to do it. My misses is a farm girl, you see, and her father breeds hunters. She never uses a sidesaddle, that would be madly dangerous, those hunters are as fast as Mr Darcy's and as spirited. She always rides astride, with a special skirt split in the middle, like very loose trousers, she makes those herself.

Of course with the little one coming she daren't ride at all anymore, she's afraid to fall off and hurt the little mite. But she'll be back on a horse as soon as the little critter is born, I'm sure.'

Peter has less awe for his master's wife than he expected to, she is so nice to him and not stuck-up at all and he chats freely until he remembers the master asked him a question: 'I'm sorry Mr Darcy, sir, I forgot to answer your question, my misses always makes me talkative. We don't have a sidesaddle with the ones we use right now, but there is a right load of old saddles in the attic of the large barn. I could go there and check if you like, there are some huge spiders there that give me the creeps, but somehow I like scaring myself with them.

And I do think Daisy, the sorrel mare, has been trained sidesaddle, though we've never used her that way. You might ask master Hugo, he would know of course, he bought her when you thought you might want a placid horse for long distances, except you hardly use her, I know master Hugo means to ask you whether you want to keep her, but not now, after your honeymoon.'

It is such fun to listen to Peter talking, he has such a zest for life. Elizabeth clearly feels the same, she stands there listening to him talk and smiles. 'Do you have time to show us around?' she asks.

'I do indeed have half an hour to spare, of course after that there is the feeding to do, but master Hugo will not fault me for taking half an hour to show the new mistress around. We all want you to feel at home here, especially since you can see us. Some ladies don't, you see, Mrs Darcy. Begging your pardon, Mr Darcy, not to insult your friends or anything, and Miss Georgiana is always very friendly.'

'We all like to be treated as human beings, Peter,' Darcy says soothingly, the young man is clearly not used to talking with the people he serves, but he will get used to that with Elizabeth around.

The stables are large, well-kept, and very cosy, Elizabeth almost wishes she liked horses, just to be there more often. But Peter's talk of split skirts and farmers' daughters was very diverting, and it is clear he loves his misses very much. Apparently some other men adore their wives as well, maybe Fitzwilliam is not that unique.

After their tour it is fully dark, and they go inside to wash their hands once again, it's time for dinner and Elizabeth has petted several horses, among which poor Daisy who may be sold soon, a solid sorrel mare with a friendly face.

The dining room is another of those she hasn't seen before, and it is more grand than any room she has seen in the house so far. Wine-red walls, paintings everywhere, expensive, almost gaudy furniture and silk carpets on the floor. The China in the elegant cupboards and on the table looks priceless. Starting to feel very small once again, Elizabeth feels a hand on her shoulder as Fitzwilliam says airily: 'This room needs redecorating, it's ages out of style, but there is so much family-history attached to it I haven't dared tackle it so far. Once you've settled in we may try together. There are plenty of empty rooms to store the riches in, the heirlooms that we dare not sell.'

He doesn't even care about that room! In a flash of insight she observes: 'So that is why it's not included in the tour, you're ashamed of the opulence!'

He nods and adds: 'And of course of someone damaging a priceless hideous family-piece, but mainly because I think it's in very bad taste. I don't want people to think I'm a show-off. I prefer to be judged on my kindness as a brother, and my taste in landscaping.'

He says that with self-deprecation, it must be weird to let complete strangers in one's house, to unavoidably discuss one's taste in furniture and one's life. This room would indeed not form a faithful image of Fitzwilliam Darcy, nor of herself, for of course in a few months time people will start to become aware of Pemberley having a mistress, and then they'll blame Mrs Elizabeth Darcy for everything they don't like!

Imagine, there will be total strangers looking at and walking around in what is now her home. Elizabeth thinks of all the houses she has visited herself, she has seen sitting-rooms, saloons, even bedrooms. She wouldn't want anyone to see their bedroom, but those were probably the chambers no longer used, or the spare-rooms. Galleries are no problem of course, and the ballroom, if Fitzwilliam has one.

In fact, Elizabeth thinks most visitors would actually love to view the splendid dining-room. They are after all visiting the great houses to see riches and heirlooms from times long past, she supposes the taste of the current owner doesn't interest them very much.

But she can also understand Fitzwilliam not wanting to seem bent on flaunting his status, like Lady Catherine clearly was at Rosings.

Compared to Rosings, Elizabeth actually doesn't think the dining-room is in really bad taste, it is not ugly or anything, it's just way too opulent for daily use. If one wanted to impress rich relatives for instance it would do very well.

'Would it be possible to use a smaller room to dine in when it's just the two of us, or us and Georgiana and maybe a few friends? And keep this room as it is for larger occasions? It is not that ugly, merely very rich for daily use. It's great to impress rich visitors with.'

That idea seems to please Fitzwilliam, and he says: 'See, I knew you'd come up with a good idea. I love it. Let's find a new dining-room in the time we're here, and we'll make plans to decorate it. Unless you find that an unsuitable activity for a honeymoon, which in fact it is, then we'll wait until spring.'

But of course fitting up rooms is fun, and Elizabeth doesn't mind at all to do it in the coming two weeks, and they spend the rest of the meal contemplating the size a dining-room should have, and what colours would be desirable, and whether the China should be exchanged for something less gaudy from storage.

Elizabeth cannot help but speak up about the viewings: 'You know, Fitzwilliam, I've seen my share of great houses when I was travelling with my uncle and aunt, and we always got a thrill from seeing rooms like this, richly furnished but in good taste, historically correct, with a collection of valuable heirlooms.

We never judged the owner as being a show-off, it always was more a reflection of the glorious past than of the current inhabitant. I thought Lady Catherine's style of furnishing tasteless, because that was expensive without being beautiful or containing something of the family's history, but this is actually quite magnificent.'

That is something her husband needs to process, and after a minute or so of thinking and looking around, he observes: 'You may be right. I may have looked at it a bit too much from my own point of view, what I want visitors to see, but of course they have their expectations, too. This room is pretty much the same as it has been for generations. Seen in that light it would be a total shame to redecorate it, so much history would be lost.

Do you think we should not just keep it, but include it in the tour?'

'If you don't mind, I think your visitors would be very pleased to see it. Mrs Reynolds could explain, tell them how it was kept intact to reflect the history of the Darcy family.'

'I think that is a capital idea, I've never viewed a house so I just thought to show them the rooms I like best, excepting that one room we'll keep to ourselves.' This with a big wink of course.

'But you are right, visitors come here to see the riches they cannot afford, they want to gape at the magnificence of the old families. Let's rethink the whole circuit, you can be of help, you've been on the tour, saw everything yourself.'

That is true, but not entirely so: 'I was not a neutral visitor, love, I needed to see your human side, your endearing love for your sister especially, seeing her rooms was very important in my change of heart towards you.

Had I seen that dining-room, my prejudice against you, my conviction of your towering pride, would have been confirmed.' Then she adds, musing: 'Though I don't want your visitors to fall in love with you, so maybe you should show more splendour and less humanity.'

'My visitors will pretty soon be your visitors as well,' Darcy reminds Elizabeth, she may as well get used to the idea, people expect to get a tour in every big house they visit, and they will know there is a lady in the house.

'So think well what you want them to see, talk about it with Mrs Reynolds, and we can compose a new route together. But not necessarily on our honeymoon, it can wait.'

She seems interested, and she has the experience he lacks, this may become one of the duties she asked for, but it is clear that she would consider it a pleasure, not a duty.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 15

After dinner they retreat to a little room with a free standing bath in it, a room just for bathing! The bath is already full, someone has had a lot of work getting it that way, and they'd better make use of that work before it cools off again. It is a tight fit with two adults, but they do enjoy sitting in the bath together, though after a while it gets rather cold. After drying each other off, they then race for the bed, leaving the cooling water for the staff to remove the next morning.

And that bed is as good as it looked this afternoon, so warm and so soft, and the covers are so thick. As Elizabeth starts to get really warm, holding her beloved close, feeling totally tranquil after the hot bath, four days of travel and all the feelings she experienced today start to take over and she falls asleep before she can even think of making love.

There is no way in which Darcy can be disappointed over that, his urges have been satisfied so often the last few days that they do not bother him, besides, there are things that need thinking about, and that is best done by himself, before he goes to sleep. Having a warm, soft shape lying against him just makes it a lot more pleasant.

How will he secure Elizabeth from ever becoming dependent on anyone? Money of course is the answer, and it needs to be available only to herself, not even to him, not even to her children or family. Nathan will sort it out, and if he cannot, Darcy will write to his London lawyer. A few weeks will see it arranged to his satisfaction.

Then the riding business, Darcy really wants his beloved to feel the joy of riding a good horse, and hearing Peter talk so airily of his wife riding astride has returned his wishes to the front of his mind. The idea of a skirt that is divided in two parts does not entice Darcy at all, it's merely practical. Ladies' clothes are not exciting, but usually rather boring, he totally agrees with Georgiana on that score.

Can Darcy live with encouraging Elizabeth to do something her own class will find indecent, but which other classes find completely normal? Should he consult Mrs Reynolds? She is very conservative, better not. Nathan then, he is married, and he is just one class below nobility. He knows the people in this neighbourhood, they would never tell Darcy what they really think, but Nathan is one of them, he'll know. Better find something else to do for Elizabeth during their meeting, they did after all have a deal there was to be no business these two weeks. Maybe she'll enjoy a tour of the other side of the house, the servant's side. Kitchen, laundry-rooms, storage and larder, scullery. Somehow he suspects she'll want to know what is going on in the house, in the entire house.

Exploring the rooms they don't use will be a lot of fun too, especially with Mrs Reynolds, she knew Darcy's mother well, and she knows a lot about the family-history. Or he could give Elizabeth that lewd book from his London library. Finding his father's stash here will be a pastime he wants to undertake together, but of course she can easily spend a few hours browsing the fabulous library here. He'll just propose the options and she can choose, or do anything else she might enjoy, like going on a ramble outside.

Satisfied with his contemplations, Darcy very gently nuzzles his beloved, to feel her lovely soft skin, and smell her sweet feminine scent. Such a prize for him, such feelings she evokes in him, he has been very emotional with happiness several times today. But soon it will become sweet habit to stroke her, or kiss her, or make love to her, those memories of grief and sadness will no longer make him feel weak. So much to look forward to.

The next morning, Elizabeth wants to walk around the whole park: 'Your gardener, John, was it?, said it was ten miles round, we can be back in time for lunch.'

Frankly, Darcy has never walked it in its entirety, though he has often made the trip on horseback. But his boots are well-worn, he has been on several incredibly long walks with Elizabeth the day they got engaged and the day after, and several times during their engagement, they must have been as far. So why not? Maybe it is time for him to really get to know his own park on ground level.

And he manages quite well, they set a nice pace and enjoy the winter woods. 'It was more beautiful in summer, but I'm still very glad to be back here,' Elizabeth says.

'It will be summer again before you know it,' Darcy replies fondly, 'and I'm even more glad than you to have you back here.'

And he kisses her with all the love he feels, extending their outing by at least ten minutes.

Ten miles is quite a lot of ground to cover, and by the time they get back, a bit later than Darcy's usual lunch-time, they are both ready for a long rest and some hot food.

After lunch Darcy takes Nathan to his study, and Elizabeth is off for a tour of the servants' part of the house with Mrs Reynolds. It feels wrong to Elizabeth to live in a house and not know what lies behind every door.

They start out in the kitchen and a large room adjacent to the kitchen with tables and chairs, such a large space, with so much going on, Elizabeth never realised the staff needs to eat, too, and needs space to do so. This is a whole dining room for them, where they drink coffee and eat their meals, sometimes together, sometimes apart.

Then there is a huge larder with mainly foods that will keep, and a small space with perishables, meat, and cheese and vegetables from their own kitchen-garden, or grown by the local farmers. The scullery is next, where the pots are scrubbed and the water is heated for washing and cleaning. The laundry-room needs hot water too, and space to dry laundry even in wet weather.

Other goods like bedclothes and liveries, candles and China that has gone out of fashion are stored along with many other things a household like this needs.

And then there are the sleeping quarters for the staff, of course some go home after a shift, like Peter, but some, like Mrs Reynolds, live in the house and have their own rooms and their own sanitary facilities.

So many people to take care of a single family, Elizabeth is dizzy with the implications. The scale of it all is difficult to envision, of course they have servants at Longbourn but not this many. She looks forward to the time when Mr Brewer will explain the finances behind it all. Last of all Mrs Reynolds shows her the cellar where the fuel is kept, so many rooms to heat, and all that fuel has to be bought and delivered, and brought to each hearth, each fire maintained all day.

Then they go back to the main part of the house, where Mrs Reynolds says: 'It has been a real pleasure to show you around, Mrs Darcy, I feel I know you a lot better already.'

As they continue towards the sitting-room, Mrs Reynolds suddenly halts and says: 'I beg your pardon ma'am, but I really want to tell you I'm so very glad to see the master so very happy with you. My dear master is so much in love with you, it is such a joy to behold him finally getting the woman he deserves.'

Elizabeth is really touched that Mrs Reynolds tells her this, it gives her the feeling that she must be doing something right, that she has that estimable lady's approval, and she thanks Mrs Reynolds for her kind words.

'I was always afraid he'd fall into the clutches of one of those ladies out for his standing and his affluence, who seem to think the world was created for their pleasure, without a proper place in it for those of lesser birth and fortune. The master is not like that, he cares about all the people. It is clear you do, too, and that makes all of us here very happy. Of course we should have trusted Mr Darcy to find himself a loving wife.'

'Thank you so much, Mrs Reynolds, I admit I was a bit afraid you'd object to my being somewhat below your master's class,' Elizabeth says frankly.

'I never much cared about class, Mrs Darcy,' is the reply, 'I care about my master's happiness. I must admit I had my doubts about him being so much in love without his love being returned.'

Of course Mrs Reynolds cannot imagining a woman not loving her master.

'For months he was very unhappy, very sad. I though he was taken seriously ill, for he didn't eat, and had black rings under his eyes. I asked him whether he was ill, and he simply told me he was just love-sick, and that it would take time to heal.'

Elizabeth nods, she still finds it hard to believe that Fitzwilliam would have been physically ill after having his love spurned by her. She thought him so proud, so vain, and all this time he had really suffered.

'It was your account of him that made me realise he was in fact a very good man, Mrs Reynolds,' Elizabeth observes, 'until then he had not made a good impression on me, I thought him disdainful of the people he considered below him.'

The estimable lady clearly has trouble believing that of her beloved master, but she admits: 'He did tell me you had reason to dislike him. I couldn't imagine how that could be, but the master wouldn't lie.' Her face brightens, and she walks on, saying: 'Anyway, everything turned out for the best, and he is certainly very happy now.'

And as if to prove that, as they enter the sitting-room where Fitzwilliam is already waiting for his beloved, he immediately gets up from the comfortable chair he was sitting in and takes Elizabeth in a gentle embrace. 'I've missed you already,' he whispers in her ear, 'even an hour without you is too long.'

She kisses him chastely and says, in a normal voice not to exclude Mrs Reynolds who came in with her: 'Did you manage to resolve your personal issues with the help of Mr Brewer?'

Still holding her, not caring at all whether that might be awkward for Mrs Reynolds, he smiles at her and says: 'To my fullest satisfaction, my love. I feel as light as a feather. Which is for the best since my feet are killing me from our ramble this morning.'

And that is very true. Not about the feet, for in fact he didn't suffer at all, he just complains in the hope of being spoiled by his beloved, and it works, for she takes him to a sofa and offers to massage his feet. Mrs Reynolds has fled minutes ago, so he gladly accepts the offer of intimacy, and Elizabeth removes his knee-high boots and his socks and lovingly kneads his strong feet.

'Do you think I should take to wearing low shoes in the house?' he asks, 'maybe they would be more suitable to a married man.' His feet must have been tired after all, for the massage feels fabulous, he can feel the tension drain from his muscles.

As he sits back and enjoys his lovely wife's ministrations, he thinks of his conversation with Nathan just now.

Nathan started by expressing his approval of Darcy's choice of wife, some might find that disrespectful of a steward towards his master, but Nathan is older than Darcy and has been married to a lovely, superior woman for years. Darcy cannot but respect his smart and able steward, and their relationship has ever been very familiar.

As Darcy poses his problem, Nathan instantly knows what he means, and promises to find out how to lawfully secure an independence on Mrs Darcy, and to make the arrangements with Darcy's London lawyer, so the papers can be signed as soon as they are back in town.

Then Darcy asks him: 'What would you think of a woman riding astride, Nathan, would it be shameful?'

Nathan replies: 'Is there another way to ride, then? Oh, you mean on a sidesaddle. No-one does that where I live, the only people owning a horse are farmers, and their girls don't have their own saddle. If their dads even have a saddle at all.

May I ask why you want to know, is Mrs Darcy thinking of joining you in the hunt?'

Darcy replies honestly: 'I want to ride together, but she feels unsafe on a horse. I thought she might feel safer astride, but she says it will be a disgrace to me.'

'If you stay on your own property, no-one will even find out, Darcy. Your staff and your tenants will not talk, they are very loyal. Besides, whom would they gossip to? You're the only noble who even notices them.'

That is enough for Darcy, Nathan knows what is going on on the estate, so that's where they'll start.

Elizabeth's voice wakes him from his reverie: 'You were miles away, love, and very pleasantly distracted I think. I suppose you would look fine with low shoes, though I guess I would have to get used to it. I've never seen you wearing anything but boots.

But I'm sure you were not thinking of shoes just now, not even of what you are planning to do this evening. It was something different.'

'It was. There are so many things we can do together, I just don't know where to start,' is his vague reply, hoping she will not ask directly for he will not lie or keep things from her, but he doesn't want her to think he is obsessed with getting her to ride either, he is, but he doesn't want to frighten her or put pressure on her.

Elizabeth supposes he must be planning a surprise, being too inquisitive is not a good trait in anyone, and she will trust Fitzwilliam, he has proven time and time again that he deserves it. 'Will you show me the rest of the house? I haven't seen the library, yet. Maybe we can find some books to improve our minds. Unless your feet are bothering you?'

A bit ashamed of having complained without true reason, Darcy quickly assents: 'Of course, you haven't even seen the house yet. Well, during that tour with your aunt and uncle Gardiner, and bits of it today with Mrs Reynolds. I get the feeling she likes you, am I right?'

'I suppose she does, yes. She has noticed you are very happy to be married to me, and I guess that is good enough for her.' Elizabeth thinks for a moment and adds: 'And I guess she liked the way I took time to get to know all of them, she said most ladies don't see staff as people.'

Starting on the ground floor Darcy shows Elizabeth all the rooms that are currently in use, including the ones she has seen during the tour. Again she is struck by the difference in her situation then and now, but this time it is merely interesting, she is starting to get used to the idea of leaving Longbourn and her family behind and living with Fitzwilliam in this huge house.

He looks very appealing, and since there are no people about she can steal a few kisses without being caught. Wrapping him in her arms is a matter of seconds, and soon they are kissing lovingly, with surprisingly little lust, just a lot of intense feeling.

When they break off the kiss, still holding each other tightly, Fitzwilliam smiles and observes: 'It will take all of our two weeks to view the entire house this way. But it will be time well-spent.'

Elizabeth doesn't answer, not with words. In moments like these they don't need words, though this is only the fifth day of their married life.

They spend the next two days exploring the house and the park, walking as far as they comfortably can, but there is so much more to be seen that they cannot reach on foot. Darcy is aching to ride, but he does not want to leave Elizabeth all by herself, that just doesn't feel right on their honeymoon.

Elizabeth is aware of Fitzwilliam's restlessness, and since she doesn't plan to keep him locked up in the house she says one afternoon: 'You need to ride out, love, don't let me keep you indoors or wear your boots down walking. I'll be fine, there is the library, and Mrs Reynolds promised to give me a tour of the unused chambers, a Darcy history lesson she called it. If you tell me where that lewd book is hidden, I'll certainly amuse myself for a few hours. I don't want you to feel a captive in your own house.'

He cannot deny it, and admits: 'I am aching for a good gallop over the hills. I'm so sorry we cannot share this, there are so many places I want to show you.'

'Why don't you make arrangements then for me to accompany you, Fitzwilliam, I will try for you, really. Maybe I will feel safer when you are with me, we'll never know if we don't try.'

'I feel uncomfortable asking so much of you, Elizabeth,' he replies, 'but I really want to do this together, very much. It's such a huge part of my life, and we share everything else. May I ride out alone for an hour or two, and talk to the coachman to see what can be done to put you on a horse?'

'You may, beloved, if you hand over the book, in case Mrs Reynolds is too busy to spend an hour on me.'

'Will you come with me to the stables to see me off?'

'That, too.'


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 16

Half an hour has him mounted and disappearing out of sight, and Elizabeth returns to the house alone. Once there, she looks for the housekeeper, who is very pleased to show her around the chambers that are relics of the Darcys who lived here before.

They start out with the room that used to be Fitzwilliam's grandmother's, his father's mother. The mirror in their bedroom used to be hers, and the whole room is as tasteful as that huge piece of furniture. Not only the furniture looks as new, and the walls have probably been re-painted, but Elizabeth is amazed at how well the fabrics have been preserved, the curtains are still a beautiful pink with silver, the bedspread looks as good as new, and there are masses of pillows strewn across the bed that look just as if the room is still in use. Frankly, it is more like a girl's room than an elderly lady's.

'It is all so beautifully preserved,' Elizabeth says, 'it doesn't look old or worn at all.'

Mrs Reynolds is pleased with the compliment, and she observes: 'It is as if fabrics lasted longer in those days, in that wardrobe over there there are some dresses that look as new. Old-fashioned of course, but not worn at all, let me show you.'

Walking to the wardrobe and opening it, she takes out a very formal ball-gown that does indeed look as if it could still be worn, though it is a lot stiffer and lower-waisted than the current fashion. Two other dresses are as strangely designed to Elizabeth's eyes, and Mrs Reynolds says: 'These are riding-dresses from her time, Mr Darcy's grandmother was a very active lady. She loved to ride, even hunted with the men. Look how little worn these are, they just don't make fabric like that anymore.'

They are indeed very well-preserved, like the pillows and the curtains, and beautiful, though strange-looking in the eyes of a twenty year old.

'Is there a portrait of this lady in the house?' Elizabeth asks, and Mrs Reynolds tells her there is one on the gallery, with 'old' Mrs Darcy on a horse actually. 'We'll take a look at it later,' she promises.

They put the dresses back and close the door of the wardrobe, then move on to the next room, a room with Fitzwilliam's late mother's possessions. It is not her original room, that is used by Georgiana now, but a lot of her belongings are displayed here. To prove where Georgiana inherited her musical talent, there are instruments, a large harp and a smaller harp, several flutes and guitars, and since it's a bedroom of course there is a bed, and again, beautiful pillows, but in muted, darker colours.

'Though this lady was Fitzwilliam's mother, maybe knew Fitzwilliam's grandmother as an elderly lady, still his grandmother's possessions look like those of a younger woman, while her daughter-in-law's look like those of an elderly lady,' Elizabeth observes.

Mrs Reynolds replies: 'That is true, Mr Darcy's late mother seemed a bit older than her age. She was not very strong, and especially after she had Georgiana her health deteriorated. The poor mistress never was strong enough to ride or even walk much, she was mostly indoors or in her favourite garden, I think Mr Darcy will show it to you yet, though of course it will not really bloom until next summer.

You are more like the elder lady, she was less tall and less noble of birth, but very strong and healthy. She was small and light like you, and very active, though you seem to prefer walking over riding.'

Elizabeth affirms this, and asks: 'What was she like, Fitzwilliam's mother? Was she sweet, was she often sad?'

'She was very beautiful, there is a portrait of her as well, also in the gallery, and she was tall, but thin. Her sister, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, is just as tall but physically strong and a good deal broader. She was the beauty of her days, and she made an even better match than Lady Anne, Mr Darcy's mother was called Anne. Her sister still lives, she named her daughter after her beloved sister, they were very close. Lady Anne was a very good match for the late Mr Darcy, she was from a very good family, but not generally very strong, fortunately the master and Miss Darcy have their father's vigour. They are both as tall as their mother, Miss Darcy looks a good deal like her.

Lady Anne Darcy was very sweet when the master was a younger child, but of course boys go to school and generally lose touch with their mothers, though he did spend all his holidays here and was a great help to his mother when she was very big with Georgiana. When he came back from college he became very close to his father, and he learned how to manage the estate really well. His poor mother didn't live to see that, she died when he was still in college. I think Mr Darcy looks much like her in his features and his height, though he has his father's vigorous strength and proud bearing.'

They view several more rooms with antique and even quaint furniture, silverware and bronze and marble statues, then move to the gallery to look at the portraits. Mrs Reynolds is right, Fitzwilliam's grandmother looks a lot stronger and younger than his mother, sitting on a horse proud and straight she looks like a true Darcy, her bearing reminds Elizabeth of Fitzwilliam. The strange dress looks very becoming as it should be seen, with a woman wearing it and on a horse.

Of course both Fitzwilliam's mother and his grandmother married into the family, but somehow his mother seems the odd one out, a tall, languishing pale beauty among sturdy, hale people. Studying her portrait Elizabeth thinks she can see a resemblance to Lady Anne de Bourgh, they have the same finely chiselled features and pale complexion, though this young lady looks a bit more alive, less sallow, than Lady Catherine's daughter, and also a good deal more interested in the world around her.

It is difficult to imagine her holding Fitzwilliam as a baby, but then it is pretty difficult to imagine Fitzwilliam as a baby and a child at all, he is so much a man to Elizabeth. Still, both Georgiana and Fitzwilliam must have plenty of their father's looks, for to Elizabeth the portrait of their mother does not put either of them in her mind, they're both so active and healthy.

When they have seen everything interesting, Elizabeth thanks Mrs Reynolds profusely for the entertaining tour, then retreats to their bedroom and picks up the lewd book. It is bound in a very expensive and nondescript leather cover, which suggests to Elizabeth that it was especially made for a rich person, despite its vulgar contents.

The language is atrocious, and not very sympathetic to her own gender. Like so many men, the writer of these stories sees women as property to be used, and Elizabeth finds that much more offensive than the precise descriptions of the intimate deeds the people in them commit.

Having read one story in its entirety, Elizabeth gains a whole new respect for her beloved: to have distilled from these pages how to please a virgin, without having any previous experience of his own, is quite a feat. Apparently he would have been very likely to lose control and either be too rough, causing her pain, or too excited, reaching his high before really having started. Of course Fitzwilliam has great control over his urges, but still Elizabeth is very proud of him.

After one story she has had enough, it not very entertaining to read how women are used by men who have all the power, and she decides to go out for an hour or so, being married does not mean she cannot enjoy walking out by herself anymore.

She decides to climb the hill behind the house, hoping she will see Fitzwilliam come back from there. Also, the view must be fabulous. Since she is new in this house and they don't know her habits yet, she rings for the butler to let him know she will be out walking, and the general direction in which she is going. Then she steps out.

There is a little rain, but she has a good coat and it doesn't bother her much. The climb is enjoyable, and she relishes the exercise and the view, it is indeed very beautiful. Imagine actually living here, who would have thought it?

In excellent spirits she reaches the top and looks back down on the house. After three days she has an idea which part is where already despite its sheer size, it seems so absurd to have just one family living there. It should be possible to see a rider coming from any direction, she can see a long way, but if she sits down to wait she will get cold as well as wet.

Therefore she decides to follow the ridge towards the park she knows, and walk back from there. From her habit of taking solitary rambles Elizabeth has developed a perfect sense of direction, and she descends the hill towards the path that runs along the river, moving away from the house for a tiny stretch towards the bridge at the turning point of the circuit, for she wants to cross it to walk on the opposite side of the river, having seen a few paths there she wants to explore.

Once over the bridge the path is leading her back towards the house, and soon she strikes one of the side-paths, and follows it uphill. It is a narrow path which winds between the trees, more a track than a path actually. Though narrow, it is not short, and since it runs at a straight angle to the river, it has quite a steep incline. But of course Elizabeth is not afraid of a little climbing, and she quickly reaches the top of the ridge on this side of the river.

There are trees all about her, and the path still continues, but down of course. Elizabeth cannot help but follow it, though it is still going away from the house.

After another ten minute walk through the woods, the trees start to thin out a lot, until the path leaves the forest and a large grassland spreads out before Elizabeth. It is beautiful, even going on winter, in summer it must be stunning.

But her rambling has taken a lot of time, and the sun is close to setting. It is time to go home, and quickly, for she has been away quite a long time and Fitzwilliam may be worried. Turning back, she has at least half an hour to walk before she reaches the river, but she is still elated with having this huge park to explore, and she is not afraid of getting caught in the dark, she already knows the way home well enough and it's smooth enough to be safe even at night.

Back into the forest it is darker already, and over the hill, down the slope to the river she walks. Soon it gets positively murky under the trees, but Elizabeth is not afraid at all, she relishes the wildness of the wood and the quiet around her. Walking on steadily, she soon thinks she is halfway to the house, and still it isn't totally dark. She does feel a bit anxious about her long absence, the people here are not used to her habits and they may disapprove of her staying out so late. Of course she still has to learn to judge the distances, everything is so much farther away on an estate.

Nearly there, she can hear an owl screech, and though she is not scared, the harsh sound in the silent, rapidly darkening forest does startle her. But she is a brave young woman and continues her walk as fast as she dares in the dark. Until she hears footsteps behind her.

That could be Fitzwilliam looking for her, but it could also be a poacher, or something else entirely. In a strange wood in the dark it is much easier to imagine things. A bit spooked now, Elizabeth decides to move off the path and see who it is before he can distinguish her. It is pretty easy to step behind a bush, and she carefully checks her breathing to not give her presence away.

The footsteps approach rapidly, but very quietly, does Fitzwilliam have such a light tread? She really doesn't know, but if this were a poacher that is how he would walk, silent like a cat.

She can hear breathing now, not heavy, but controlled, like her own. Then the shape passes her bush, still noiseless but rather fast, in the ever fading light she can discern broad shoulders, narrow waist, considerable height. And very proud bearing, a poacher wouldn't have that, this must be Fitzwilliam. But by now he is quite a bit ahead of her, and she suddenly feels a wish to have him in her arms.

Quickly moving back to the path, she steps on a dry branch, snapping it with a distinct popping sound. The shape in front of her calls out in startlement, and turns around instantly, coming towards her. He is very dark, and very large, a bit menacing actually.

Elizabeth has to restrain herself not to hide behind the bush once more, but she still has a clear head on her, it is not that late in the evening, and this is private property, it must be Fitzwilliam approaching her. She feels a stab of sudden anxiety, what if he is angry with her, what if he yells at her?

A quiet, eager voice belies her fear: 'There you are, my love! I walked right past you, how could that be? I was starting to feel a tiny bit anxious.'

He wraps her in his arms, and she clutches herself to him even firmer, and rests her head on his broad chest. He smells of horse, of course.

'All right, I lied. I was starting to feel very anxious, not because I think you cannot take care of yourself, but because I missed you so much.'

She feels impelled to defend herself: 'I misjudged the time of day, and the distances out here, I'm sorry to have caused you worry. Are you angry with me?' Elizabeth asks despite his warm reception of her.

'Angry?' he exclaims, tightening his hold on her, 'who gets angry at a cat for purring or reproaches a sparrow for flying? Rambling is your nature, you can't not do it. No, I'm not angry, merely very happy to have you in my arms again. Shall we go home? Dinner will be ready.'

But before they go anywhere, they kiss deeply, reunited once again.

'You know you really startled me with that noise. I jumped two feet in the air with fright. Were you hiding on purpose?'

'I heard footsteps behind me and though I knew it was probably you I decided to hide, you walked so silently I thought you might be a poacher. When you passed by and I saw your size and especially the way you carried yourself, so proudly, I thought it had to be you. I followed you from behind the bush, but I stepped on a branch.'

It is so good to have his large hand in hers, to walk side by side through the dark forest.

'Believe me, I didn't feel proud. An owl startled me, and you were nowhere in sight, though I knew you'd find your way home I was starting to doubt I would.

I'm glad to know a poacher would not even have seen you, though you wouldn't have been in danger from one of them since you're not a deer or a hare. We have poachers here sometimes, but usually they're not dangerous to people, they are very alert and if they spot someone they merely disappear and try some other time.'

He stops and embraces her again, kissing her hair, and her face, and her hands, and then walks on. This time they make it to the house without further stops for caresses, and once inside he asks: 'Do you want to freshen up first? It's not that late yet, it gets dark early.'

Elizabeth nods, and replies: 'Please, if you'll come with me. I want you close the rest of the evening.'

A breathtaking smile is his confirmation.

As they enter the bedroom, Fitzwilliam seems to be anticipating something, something pleasant, and he leads her to the bed, where a long skirt of a simple design and quite a sturdy fabric lies waiting.

'Peter lent me this, he said his missus didn't need it for some time and told him to have you try it. If it fits and you like it, she can make a similar one for you of any fabric and in any colour you choose. Will you please try it?' Now Elizabeth gets an idea of the boy he must have been years ago, very eager, and so sweet.

'Of course I'll try it on,' Elizabeth replies, 'but what is it?' She picks it up and immediately understands. They are trousers made to look like a skirt. Fitzwilliam really wants her to ride with him, and he thinks this is the solution. Well, she did tell him she'd straddle a horse if he dared let her, and she will. Gladly. This park is too large to explore walking, and too rough to use a carriage. She really needs to ride to see all of it.

Feeling not the slightest shame or reluctance to undress in front of him, Elizabeth takes off her dress and puts on the garment. Of course it has no top, so she helps herself to one of Fitzwilliam's laced shirts, rolling up the sleeves and tucking the length in her waistband. The huge mirror shows her a young woman in a long skirt and an oversized blouse, until she takes a few steps, then she can see the skirt split, but it actually looks rather nice and flowing, and very feminine.

'Are you being overcome with heat?' she asks her husband dryly.

'I'm not anymore, not since you dressed again,' is his pleased reply, 'but I am nearly overcome with anticipation and anxiety: will you allow me to teach you to ride in this garment? Will you brave ridicule and outrage to make my dearest wish but one come true? You've already fulfilled my biggest wish, so I'll understand if you refuse.'

'I will, and gladly.' Elizabeth truly wants to do this, for herself as well, but he has to make the decision, it's his reputation on the line.

She takes off the shirt and puts it back in the wardrobe neatly, then says: 'I'll need a blouse, I can make do with one of your shirts for a few days, but I prefer to wear a more feminine top. Several ones, for they'll smell of horse quickly, and I have a feeling you will want to ride often.'

Then she takes off the skirt, or pants, and puts them away as well, now undressed except for her underwear. Instead of getting her dress, she walks to the washstand and washes her face and hands, dries them, then takes her eager beloved in her arms, still mostly undressed. Dinner will have to wait, they are going to be busy for half an hour.

The next day Darcy finds it hard to even take time for breakfast, he really is as excited as a boy, Elizabeth must think he's totally out of his mind. He so loves to ride, but going out by himself isn't as fulfilling as it used to be, he really misses Elizabeth, wants so much to show her around, and share the exhilaration of the ride with her. Then when he came back from his ride yesterday, Peter handed him the garment his wife had urged him to show the master, and Darcy barely took the time to thank her for him, eager to have Elizabeth try it on.

When he returned to the house the butler told him straight away that the mistress had gone for a solitary walk, he seemed a bit worried actually until Darcy told him that going on solitary rambles was a habit of Mrs Darcy, was to be expected of her in even the worst weather, and nothing to worry about. And he didn't worry himself, not even when he had been waiting for her return for nearly an hour and it started to get dark.

He didn't worry, he realised she probably misjudged the distances on his estate, but he did miss her terribly. So he finally went out to find her, following the circuit in the hopes she'd be there, actually fearing to get lost himself if he stepped off the path, his sense of direction not as keen on foot and in the dark.

Then when he found her, Darcy realised Elizabeth was very pleased to see him, and eager to embrace him and kiss him, but she hadn't missed him until she saw him again. She was perfectly content to ramble on her own, she is indeed a very independent spirit.

Reminiscing will not get her on the back of a horse, though, so Darcy forces himself to eat his usual, and he can see Elizabeth doing the same, a bit nervous as well. That may be the idea of having to trust her life to a strong creature with a will of its own in half an hour, or it may be wearing trousers. For she insisted on putting them on straight away, to get used to the feel of the rough fabric between her legs.

In fact, Elizabeth fears Mrs Reynolds' looks, and when they meet the housekeeper in the hall, just before they go to the stables, she does look a bit strangely at the master's wife. But she doesn't say a thing except to wish them a good morning very politely, and each continues his way.

Peter is as excited as his master, a bunch of kids with a new toy, except the toy is herself! The coach-master, Mr Jean Hugo, a Frenchman actually, is there, too, to discuss their choice of horse, and all three agree that Daisy should be the one, she is the most stable horse the master has, and the easiest to guide.

Without judgement Mr Hugo observes, in accentless English, Elizabeth notices: 'And Peter remembered right, Daisy was trained to carry a sidesaddle before you bought her, Mr Darcy. Though of course that is more than three years ago.'

Elizabeth is now anticipating riding astride, so she's very glad there is no ladies' saddle in the stables, she really wants to try how it feels to have true control over a horse.

They take Daisy to a sandy paddock, Fitzwilliam asks Peter to stay with them this first time, which makes Elizabeth feel even safer. Peter seems to have a special way with horses, and he clearly loves going along, taking a long rope with him, as well as a long whip.

'Daisy may try to be lazy with a new and inexperienced rider, but don't worry Mrs Darcy, I know how to handle the whip, I won't cause her to bolt or hit you by accident.'

And then the moment has arrived, Peter holds Daisy's head, though Elizabeth can see the good-natured creature doesn't really need that, she's patient enough, while Fitzwilliam adjusts the stirrups to Elizabeth's legs, and gives her a boost up. Then she sits high on a solid saddle, but with the warm, strong body beneath her moving slightly to adjust to her weight.

From the very first, Elizabeth feels much safer sitting astride, her balance is much more natural, both feet have support from the stirrups, she can squeeze her legs to hold on to the horse. That causes Daisy's ears to perk up, and Peter asks: 'Did you squeeze your legs, Mrs Darcy, begging your pardon for the frankness of the question?'

Elizabeth laughs and replies: 'No offence taken, Peter, I'm sure you have my safety in mind with your question. I did, I felt safe holding on to the horse that way. Please speak freely.'

A broad smile spreads over Peter's face, and he explains: 'Daisy is very sensitive, and she has been trained to listen to very subtle commands. She is supposed to start moving when the rider squeezes his legs. I could see her ears move in expectation of instruction what to do next. Better let your legs rest in the stirrups and try to keep your balance instead of holding on to her with your legs. That will confuse her.'

The next half hour is very tiring for Elizabeth, but very rewarding as well. It is clear from the start that Peter is a very good instructor, after he has gotten over his first hesitation to tell a lady how to adjust her seat and to name the separate parts of her leg that she has to move to control the horse, he tells her how to set Daisy in motion and let her make turns with nothing but her seat and legs.

When they are having a short pause from instruction and Elizabeth is merely riding circles in a nice stride, Fitzwilliam comes towards her and falls in stride with her horse.

He is so happy, her beloved, walking along with her on a horse, seeing her perfectly at ease on this strong but very well-behaved mare. She says: 'It is such a difference, sitting astride. I'm not afraid at all, I'm looking forward to going out with you.'

'Who would have thought Peter is such a good instructor,' Fitzwilliam says with great respect, 'I think you'll need a few more lessons right here, until you've felt all the gaits, but Daisy does seem very tractable, not the kind to throw you or run back home. You don't mind someone else giving you instruction, do you? He's very good at it, he is teaching you things I didn't know, though I've been on a horse since I was four years old.'

'I certainly don't mind,' Elizabeth replies, 'he has a way of explaining things that I understand immediately. And he is very cute when he has to mention a part of a woman he isn't supposed to know a lady of standing even has.'

And Peter may be modest to the point of humility, he is a true instructor, after five minutes he says: 'With your permission, Mr Darcy, I'd like to continue Mrs Darcy's lesson. She's progressing exceedingly well, knowing Daisy's nature very well I think your lady wife may be up to going out with you in a few days.'

'Of course I will retreat, Peter, I'm back to observing your lesson straight away. Do you mind if I join you tomorrow? I'm very impressed by your knowledge, I think I can improve my riding with your help. Where did you get such instruction yourself?'

That has Peter stunned for a few moments, his cheeks blush hotly and he studies his shoes with great concentration. When he has regained a semblance of composure he stammers: 'Mr Darcy, sir, thank you for your kind compliments. I'm just a stable boy, I don't deserve such praise. Of course you're welcome to join Mrs Darcy, but do you truly think to learn something? You're a superb rider!'

Fitzwilliam is clearly affected by his servant's shyness, and trying not to make it worse he gently replies: 'I think you underestimate yourself, Peter, Elizabeth had never ridden a horse astride, and look at her sitting on Daisy as if she has never done differently. I know I can stay on nearly every horse I want to, and I can get it to do what I want, but I want to learn your subtlety, go with the horse instead of forcing it. Please tell me where you learned that, I know you're not originally from a farm.'

That works, for Peter now stands firmer and says: 'It's my missus, sir, she sometimes teaches me on her father's horses. He breeds hunters for the gentry, and she gentles them for him. She said to me: 'Peter, if you're going to ride Mr Darcy's horses every day, you will not ruin them with a heavy hand and a bulky seat. Let me teach you to ride properly.' And she did.'

'Please give your missus my regards,' Fitzwilliam says, 'or, you know what? We'll do it ourselves, will you ask her to make a few of those trousers for Elizabeth, and we'll come visit this week. Does she have time to make them herself, or will she be able to get help from your family or village?'

Proud of his missus, Peter chooses to ignore the implications of having the master honour his wife with a visit, and replies: 'She will be glad to have something to do, she's very active and not being able to ride from being large with child, and with me being here most of the time, she has been a bit unhappy. She'll be honoured to have you visit, sir, and ma'am.'

That must touch a nerve in Fitzwilliam, he saw his mother unhappy being left alone during her pregnancy, and though Peter only stated his long absence as a fact and a reason for his missus to be pleased to sew for his mistress, Fitzwilliam will not forget it and do something about it. Elizabeth can see it in his expression. They have gotten to know one another quite well.

'Please continue, Peter, we'll discuss the details later,' Fitzwilliam now says, and he steps back to let the lesson proceed.

And after another half hour of instruction Elizabeth has trotted with Daisy on the long line, a jarring movement that forces her out of the saddle and back in with a bump, unless she moves along with the horse to let the force of its movement be absorbed by her muscles. Very tiring, and undoubtedly very painful tomorrow, but also very satisfying.

They unsaddle Daisy together, such a sweet natured horse, Elizabeth already loves her. 'You didn't need the whip at all, Peter,' she observes, a bit surprised.

'You are right, Mrs Darcy, you already have a way of making Daisy understand what you want, so Daisy didn't get the opportunity to be lazy. You are a quick student.'

They part with Peter after Daisy has been cared for properly, and return to the house with a feeling of satisfaction. Fitzwilliam says: 'I didn't find that titillating at all, nor indecent. And you enjoyed it, didn't you?'

'I did,' she replies, 'very much so. Though I'll probably be sorry in the morning. You'll have to lift me in a hot bath to loosen my muscles.'

That idea doesn't put him out at all, and they exchange a very passionate kiss right there in front of the house.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 17

When they enter the house they once again run into Mrs Reynolds, who very politely requests Mrs Darcy to come with her for a few moments. Fitzwilliam kisses Elizabeth again, a bit less passionate under Mrs Reynold's direct eye, but not exactly chaste either. Then he says: 'Meet you in the library in half an hour, for our big search?'

His eyes twinkle, he is looking forward to what they may find, and though Elizabeth doesn't want to read any more of those demeaning stories, she does like the information her beloved manages to distil from them.

Mrs Reynolds takes her to the servants' part of the house, to the large storage space Elizabeth visited days earlier. Going straight for one of the shelves, the housekeeper removes a package wrapped in paper, puts it on a narrow table in the middle of the room and unwraps it. There is fabric in it, pristine white, a whole stack of it, and the housekeeper takes one piece from the stack, unfolding it for Elizabeth and saying: 'I don't know how Mr Darcy convinced you to straddle a horse, but it is clear he is over the moon and you certainly don't seem to mind. You might want to wear this until you've had some nice blouses made.'

And she holds up a beautiful blouse with frills and tucks that looks vaguely familiar somehow. It will do much better than Fitzwilliam's shirts, though Elizabeth indeed wants to have some blouses with a little more colour made as soon as she can have a seamstress over. Without hesitation she takes off the oversized shirt and puts on the blouse, it is a perfect fit and probably looks very good on her.

'It's part of the livery the servants wear,' Mrs Reynolds observes, 'but no-one will notice with your posture and the rest of your attire. You look surprisingly regal in those whatchamacallits, like the old Mrs Darcy, she could wear anything and look like a queen.'

She is clearly lost for words over the skirt, no, trousers, that her new mistress is wearing, though Elizabeth finds them very comfortable.

Mrs Reynolds takes out two more blouses and puts them on the table, probably the same size, then re-wraps the rest and lays the package back on the shelf. And she is not done, she takes out another package, even larger, and heavy, Elizabeth helps her to lift it to the table. As Mrs Reynolds unwraps it, she says: 'This is my emergency store of fabrics, usually we order fabrics from the seamstress along with taking measurements and choosing a pattern, but I'm guessing that whoever developed that riding attire will not share the pattern with our regular seamstress. Am I right in supposing it to be Peter's missus?'

At Elizabeth's fond nod, the housekeeper observes: 'I thought so, he's always telling us about her exploits on her father's horses, I didn't think she was doing that ladies' style, for her father has a reputation for breeding the best hunters within a day's ride. They don't usually teach those to bear a lady's saddle, you know, hunters are pretty high-strung.

Is he any good teaching?'

Mrs Reynolds likes Peter too!

Elizabeth honestly replies: 'He is very good, he can explain things so clearly. Even Fitzwilliam was impressed, he merely stood back and watched. He asked to join the lesson tomorrow.'

'Did he now, our master? Good, I did think that Peter fellow had a way with horses. And with ladies, the maids all adore him, though his missus has him well-trained.' Suddenly realising how funny that sounds, considering the lady in question's profession, Mrs Reynolds laughs merrily, showing a very pleasant human side, and she adds: 'And since Peter's missus is sitting at home without anything to do, waiting for her baby to be born, I beg you to choose several suitable pieces from this stack to have her make you some of these skirts of your own. The fabric of this one undoubtedly wears well and is very sturdy, but she will be back on a horse as soon as the babe is born, so she will need it back, and you ride for leisure, not for profession, so you can wear a more lady-like quality and colour.'

If that is all the criticism Elizabeth will get from Mrs Reynolds, she is very happy to get off so lightly. To Elizabeth, whatever the good lady is really thinking is of no moment, as long as she keeps her censure to herself. It is clear the housekeeper blames her beloved master for having his wife straddle a horse, and Mrs Reynolds' only concern strong enough to risk Mr Darcy's displeasure for interfering with his wishes over, is apparently that the lady of the house must wear colours and fabrics suitable for a lady.

No problem for Elizabeth, she browses through the stack of fabrics to find three pieces pretty enough for a lady, but sturdy enough for riding, and in a colour she likes. Mrs Reynolds clearly approves of her choices, and says: 'A fine collection, Mrs Darcy, sturdy enough to resist constant wear, colours suitable to a lady but not likely to show staining, and fabric pliable enough to give the skirt a bit more flow to it. It actually suits you quite well, that riding skirt, it was a bit disconcerting at first when you moved, but I'm getting used to it. Master Fitzwilliam so loves to ride, even as a small child he did already.'

That is endearing, the elder lady using his first name when remembering Fitzwilliam as a boy. Elizabeth finds she is settling in quite readily with such friendly people around her.

Mrs Reynolds asks: 'I will notify the seamstress, will it suit you to have measurements taken tomorrow? And choose patterns and fabrics of course?'

Elizabeth affirms that is fine, she likes the blouses she has just gotten from the housekeeper rather well, but white is not a colour to wear around horses.

'And I suppose I'll just hand these to Peter, to give to his wife? And settle with him for the cost of the making? How is it for size, does it need adjusting?' Mrs Reynolds is very good at her job, she doesn't forget any detail.

Elizabeth raises her arms to let Mrs Reynolds check the skirt, which the lady does without hesitation. 'It is a tiny bit too wide, and you're not likely to gain any weight with the master wanting you to ride all over the place once you're used to the horse. Better make it a tiny bit narrower, do you agree?'

'I do, Mrs Reynolds, and thank you for your kindness,' Elizabeth spontaneously says.

'It is my pleasure, mistress,' the elderly lady retorts, 'you've made the master very happy, which makes me very happy. I've never seen him smile and laugh so much, and he is positively lively these days, kissing you wherever it pleases him, living his own life and not being a gentleman to the exclusion of all else.'

Elizabeth feels obliged to mention: 'Fitzwilliam did say he planned to visit Peter's missus himself, but if Peter takes the fabrics home she has something to relieve her boredom straight away.'

After one last approving look of Mrs Reynolds, apparently she doesn't object to the master being familiar with the servants, Elizabeth takes the blouses to their bedroom, washes her face and hands quite thoroughly at the washstand and changes into a dress.

Then she goes to the library, where she receives a hearty welcome from her ardent lover. He invites her on his lap and wants to know: 'Did Mrs Reynolds give you an earful over straddling a horse?'

'Actually,' Elizabeth replies perkily, 'she blames you. She merely tried to save what was left of my reputation by giving me three beautiful blouses to wear with the skirt, as she has decided to call it. I agreed to have my measurements taken by the seamstress for more suitable blouses tomorrow, the ones she gave me are part of your servants' liveries. She also made me pick fabrics for skirts of my own, from the emergency stash. Did you know you had an emergency stash of fabrics in your storage chamber?'

'I did not,' Fitzwilliam replies, and a bit concerned, 'but Peter counts on his missus making the skirts, did you tell her that?'

'No need to,' Elizabeth says soothingly, 'she already suspected, said Peter's missus probably wouldn't give out the pattern for the skirt. Mrs Reynolds will give the fabrics I chose to Peter, apparently that is what the stash is for, when the seamstress comes over it is customary to choose the fabrics for what she will be making then and there. She will come for blouses only.

Mrs Reynolds was very pleased with my indulging you in your love for riding. Though I do want a bath tonight, love, I'm stiffening up already, and it's only noon.'

'Maybe you'd better take that bath straight after lunch, I'll order it, and spoil you a lot for suffering for my pleasure. Of course I want you back in shape for your next lesson as well.'

That cheeky face needs kissing, is this the same man who stood off to the side in a ballroom, watching in disdain how the Hertfordshire people danced? Elizabeth cannot believe it.

'I was planning to write my sister this afternoon, do you think we should offer her your special book to prepare for their wedding-night?'

But Fitzwilliam is not falling for her joke: 'I thought it better to write my own personal account, Elizabeth, and send it to Bingley as well as your cousin. They might be shocked by the lewd language in the book.'

He is truly learning to give as good as he gets.

As they cuddle closer, Elizabeth starts to feel her abused muscles, and a little sound of distress escapes her.

Her sweet lover looks at her in concern and bows his head: 'Is it that bad already? I'm so sorry, I feel really guilty for putting you through this.'

'Don't, beloved,' Elizabeth says very softly, stroking his hair, and taking his hand and kissing it, 'I enjoyed myself hugely. I know it's just muscle-ache, it will pass. I'm looking forward to riding out with you very much.'

And soon she forgets her aching muscles in the heat of their search for explicit books. Of course Fitzwilliam knows the most likely hiding-places, but Elizabeth manages to find the first stash. It consists of five magazines with very naughty pictures, drawn very graphically in a certain order, forming an entire story with very few words needed to tell it. The pictures say plenty.

Though the story is as unflattering to women as the written one was, the graphic images and the lack of text make it quite interesting, and they put it away on a shelf in plain sight for further study. Then they search on.

When it is time for lunch, Fitzwilliam has found another book, this one written by a travelling artist, relating his escapades with noble ladies of all ages, matrons, virgin daughters, very stimulating and somehow much more respectful, though clearly a scoundrel this writer knows how to please a woman and he writes about it very graphically, leaving as little to the imagination as the pictures of the other books. The introduction promises everything in the book has truly happened, which is rather hard to believe after glancing over a few pages.

After supporting Elizabeth to the dining-room, Darcy takes the book to their bedroom, to read to each other. When he returns he says: 'I've ordered the bath filled right after lunch, if you don't soak those muscles, you will not be able to move tomorrow.'

'I thought I was rather strong, being able to walk half a day without feeling tired. I'm a bit put out with myself.' Elizabeth is not taking this well.

He explains: 'Never mind, love, remember how much trouble I had climbing a simple hill? I can sit on a horse all day and not feel a thing. It's the same body, but totally different muscles.'

They eat quickly, then retreat to the room next to their bedroom, and Darcy indeed slowly undresses Elizabeth, then lifts her and gently lowers her into the hot water.

'That's too hot!' she exclaims as her foot touches the water, and he keeps her above the surface with just her feet touching the water to get used to the heat, until his arms tire and he cannot lift her anymore. Then he gently sets her on her feet, and slowly she gets used to the temperature, immersing herself deeper and deeper, until she lies in the bath altogether.

Darcy removes his own shirt and kneels next to the bath, kneading her warm muscles until they are supple again, starting with her legs of course, they have suffered the most, but slowly moving up towards her thighs, buttocks and stomach. Elizabeth merely feels the cramps grow less, but Darcy feels something else entirely, touching his beloved this intimately cannot but excite him.

He massages her neck and shoulders, and her back, and then turns his attentions to other parts of her body, parts that have no muscles but only sweet, pliant flesh and skin. With the water cooling, and their mood heating, Elizabeth comes out of the bath and Darcy dries every inch of her gently and thoroughly.

She can step out of the bath easily, it has worked, hopefully she will not stiffen up again so they can ride tomorrow. But now they walk to the bed, kissing all the time, Elizabeth removing his trousers and grabbing between his legs, very indecent, but very stimulating.

'Read the book,' she says, 'and we'll just touch for a while.'

That is not what Darcy wants, he wants to bury his face in her breasts, and in other places, tasting her most intimate parts. But it is a good challenge, sticking to just touching for a while, whilst reading a very titillating story out loud.

The story starts with the youth of the author, that would supposedly ruin the mood they are in with a dry description of his early ambitions to paint the landscapes of the world, but in fact is isn't like that at all. The boy Pierre, an outlandish name because his mother was French, grew up with an upper class father on the family estate in plain old England, and did indeed at that age set his first steps on his way to being a painter.

Except he didn't paint landscapes, but portraits, and as a young child he already had an eye for a face, and a nose for scandal. For apparently a lot of fooling around was going on in the rooms and the gardens of the old manor, and he saw and remembered them all, to describe them into the tiniest detail in his memoires, decades later, if indeed this all really happened.

Fitzwilliam has a magnificent reading voice, and he knows how to make the most of it by not trying to give each character a mimicked voice, he only changes the inflection with a different character, and the effect is astounding. The story comes to life before Elizabeth's mind's-eye, and when the first piquant scene announces itself with a crawl through the brush to get a prime view of Pierre's mother with a family friend, Elizabeth is totally taken up by what she hears, transferring her growing ardour to the superb performer she would never have believed had such acting in him.

He doesn't falter or get distracted when the action starts to unfold, he doesn't comment, he doesn't give a sign that her ministrations affect him, except sporting a towering erection of course, but nothing else, no shudders, no moans, nothing.

Just his sedate voice describing fabulous love-making, with the lady getting as good as she gives, and every word, every detail read perfectly, without an error, and without losing the character of a fifteen year old aspiring artist describing the whole.

Holding the book and concentrating on reading, Fitzwilliam cannot reciprocate her arousing caresses, but Elizabeth's ardour is stimulated quite enough by what she practically sees happening before her, and the resonant voice making it come to life.

The love-making in the ornamental garden of Pierre's father comes to a height without the boy experiencing any ardour himself, he is a neutral observer, not even judging his mother for making love with a man not her husband.

When the two adults in the book experience a towering climax and crash on top of each other, spent, Fitzwilliam has clearly reached his own limit, his last sentence sounds a bit choked. Hearing that sound Elizabeth looks at him and she sees him put away the book, then come towards her with abandonment, he is beyond excited, he is lost in lust. Immediately Elizabeth realises, that what the lewd book described might happen if one drives a man past his control, is now going to happen to her.

A bit disconcerted to see self-possessed Fitzwilliam totally lose control and just jump her, she is nonetheless very stimulated by the gorgeous male specimen coming towards her fast. Within a second she feels his full weight land on her and his manhood enter her at the very same time. As the very breath is pushed out of her lungs by his greater weight, she finds she trusts him even more than she thought, for she experiences nothing but elation. This is the essence of the man, her husband, a part of Fitzwilliam no-one has ever seen, not even himself.

Soon, there is no time for contemplations of what is happening, he has lifted his weight off her chest and is pumping frantically, she can breathe again, but at the same time she is gasping for air with ecstasy, every thrust is sending a flash of lightning through her entire body, every push forces a tiny cry out of her as she feels herself get totally lost in her fervour.

Though they have both gained quite a lot of experience the last few days, and are more or less in a constant state of being sexually drained by indulging whenever they feel like it, which is often, this is so intense it cannot last long, and it doesn't.

As her beloved shudders in a towering climax, Elizabeth feels a similar high on the verge of breaking over her, just as he slows down. She pants: 'Not yet, just a tiny bit more!' and he manages to give her just enough, two times, three times, he is done for, chest heaving, his stomach must give him hell, but he thrusts a last few times, as firm as before, and the wave of ecstasy comes crashing over Elizabeth, causing her to moan in total release.

Fitzwilliam cannot even move to the side anymore, he lands right on top of her, again, but it doesn't matter, she wants him close, she wants to feel his sweaty body, taste the salt on it, feel his hair wet with the exertion, never in his life has he let go like that, Elizabeth has never been as sure of anything. She is actually very proud of her beautiful, admirable husband.

But the fabulous husband himself is not so pleased, even when he is still heaving for breath his face shows something is bothering him, a lot. Did he hurt himself? He cannot speak a word yet, he has gone very deep indeed, but he tries to, to no avail, nothing comes out that makes sense even vaguely.

This needs a woman's touch, and Elizabeth strokes him very gently, and kisses him softly, hoping to calm him down a little. This was so intense, how can he not be totally sated, as usual? She has never heard such reading, never saw such ardour.

Her loving touch does calm him down a lot, and that helps to get his breath back of course. But instead of asking her whether he didn't squash her, or whether her muscles didn't suffer, he uses his first extra breath to plead: 'Can you ever forgive me for doing that to you?'

As she stares at him without a hint of understanding, he decides he knows enough: 'I knew it, you cannot, and you're right, it is unforgivable, I'm so sorry. I never thought I could lose control like that, you must have been so frightened. I was so sure I would never hurt you, and now I've done it, and we've only been married for a week.'

Slowly, comprehension dawns on Elizabeth, and she wants to tell Fitzwilliam there is nothing to forgive, he let go and it was wonderful, he did look a bit scary there but she trusts him with all her heart, and indeed he didn't hurt her or force her. He even went beyond himself to satisfy her desire.

But she cannot reach him to tell him that, his shame has taken over completely, he is unable to face her, has buried his face in a pillow, why? What is so terrible about losing control? That he is not perfect? He knew that already, didn't she tell him once, at length? Didn't she tell him she hated him?

After losing himself totally in heat, and assaulting his beloved in a fit of blind passion, Darcy cannot think of anything to say to his Elizabeth than to beg for mercy. It was all too good to be true anyway, a classic case of hubris, everything went too well, he was too happy.

She must rue the very day she married him, just another brute like all other men, she must think he sees her as his property, bought with the promise of riches and a secure future, to be used as he sees fit...

'Mr Darcy!'

He doesn't even manage to attach a meaning to her using his last name, he automatically looks up at the pert tone and sits up, facing the woman of his dreams.

'Good!' Elizabeth says, face serious and quite put out, 'something can still penetrate your wallow in self-pity.'

She strokes his hair, and takes hold of his chin and kisses him on his mouth, a lot gentler than her face looks and her voice sounds. 'Hmm, you smell nice, you always do after making love. Why do you think I always have a bit of heat left after making love? You never seem to.'

She is stroking his neck, his shoulders, his chest, all with quite a bit of heat. Then she looks him in the eye and says very gently: 'Sorry for being bossy, but you were beyond reason, I needed something to call you back to this reality. And it worked perfectly. What is your problem, Fitzwilliam? I promised to tell you everything, but I did expect you to do me the same courtesy. So talk.'

For a moment, Darcy is stunned. She is the same as always after making love, touching him, smelling him with some desire. He can see no reproach in her, no hurt. After some time he finds his voice, and he says: 'I lost control, I grabbed you and took you, like those rough men in those lewd books.'

'So I pushed you a little too far,' she says, gently now, 'having you read stimulating stories to me with no outlet for the lust they worked up. And causing you even more lust by touching you in intimate places. You lost it, became your base self for a few minutes. I kind of liked it. And you can read so well, it was as if I was really there, why have I never heard you do that before?'

What? She liked it? She compliments his reading? Did nothing bad happen?

'Would you have liked me better if I had read to you when your sister was sick at Netherfield?'

She smiles at the memory, who would have thought it would end in their marriage.

'I suppose I would have, yes. Unless you had read this particular story. But seriously, who could do anything but admire someone who reads so well?'

There is but one question to ask: 'So you're not mad at me?'

'No I'm not.'

'And you forgive me for what I did to you?'

'Mr Darcy.' Oh, she did it again, he can't help it, he must throw himself at her feet.

'Yes ma'am?'

'Stop feeling sorry for yourself. There is absolutely nothing to forgive. I made an error of judgement, you didn't notice until it was too late. The result was incredible. I found out I trust you even when you come at me like a a wild creature. Your stomach must still hurt from your last efforts to satisfy my needs. Nothing changed between us. Well, except for the reading. I want you to read that whole book to me, and if that means you'll grab me again and take me again, I'm looking forward to it. Now take back your dignity and hold me.'

He does. She wants him to do it again. Except for the shame, it did feel good, and his stomach does hurt. If it makes the gods angry so be it, he is the happiest man in the world.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 18

Of course Darcy wakes up a boy once again. The whole thing repeats itself, only today Elizabeth wears a beautiful white blouse on the riding skirt, it really looks like a skirt when she stands still. And Darcy will ride his tall black gelding, his most sensitive horse, the one he feels can teach him the most.

Elizabeth wants to saddle Daisy herself under Peter's guidance, as Hugo the coachman saddles Darcy's nameless black. Darcy has never named a horse after coming of age, his horses are distinguished by description, unless he bought one already named. This one, the black, didn't have a name, Hugo bought it from a horse-dealer, and they don't care about such nonsense.

Hugo comes along for safety, though Darcy doesn't expect them to need any help. Elizabeth mounts without help and finds her seat immediately, already striding in nice large circles before Darcy has even mounted.

But since yesterday he has been a bit distracted, he lost control in the most horrific way possible, felt he had wronged Elizabeth beyond forgiveness, and she didn't even mind. She said she trusts him not to harm her, and of course he didn't really. But could he have stopped if she had cried out, or protested?

Peter is talking, he'd better listen or make a bad impression on Mrs Darcy. Setting his horse to stride the same circles as Daisy, but on the opposite side of the paddock, they are instructed by Peter, very politely of course, to shorten their horse's stride by tensing up a little, then lengthen it by relaxing once more. It works, and the black flicks an ear at him as if wondering how he managed to get that after years of pulling reins.

Of course Peter rides the black when Darcy doesn't use him, exercising the horses is the part of Peter's job that takes most time and that he seems to like best, so Darcy is the one needing the lesson here, the black already knows it.

The instruction continues for half an hour, Peter leads them through different exercises to connect to their horses. Darcy has little time to see how Elizabeth is doing, he's hard at work himself, and strangely enough, his legs ache with the effort it takes to ride this way.

After a little rest for horse and rider, they do exercises while trotting, and here Elizabeth needs Peter's attention for she still has some trouble to find the rhythm at which to move along with her horse. But she seems to improve rapidly, and she does so well that Peter tells her how to go to a canter, which is clearly a relief after the teeth-rattling trot. Somehow Elizabeth's former lessons must have an influence on this different way of riding, for she couldn't learn so quickly from scratch, could she?

After the lesson, Peter politely suggests they let the sweating horses walk themselves dry on a little tour of the property, outside the paddock.

Darcy leads and Elizabeth follows, Daisy behaves well, of course, and they stride all around the house and gardens. Then they leave the horses at the stables and go back to the house, to freshen up and read a little before lunch. After lunch they repeat the bathing, except this time Darcy gets in the bath too, or his legs will be stiff tomorrow with the precise control Peter's exercises demand.

And they even repeat the reading of Pierre's memoires, the next chapter, college, teachers and fellow students, a few maids, everything female is put through their paces. This time, Darcy manages two lustful scenes before he puts away the book and starts their loving very tenderly, in control all the time.

In the afternoon Elizabeth receives the seamstress as Darcy secretly reviews what Nathan has found out about securing an independence, and visits Peter in the stables after having had word there is something the young servant found that he wants to show the master.

When Elizabeth is done, they ramble, following another path to where it joins a public road, getting home just after dark once again. It is getting cold outside, there may be frost soon.

As they walk, Elizabeth tells him about the seamstress: 'She took my measurements, and I chose patterns from a book with drawings of fashionable ladies, and fabrics from a book with pages of cloth instead of paper. I've never seen that before.

Then Mrs Reynolds came in and suggested I have two or three really fashionable dresses made, 'For London, Mrs Darcy, everyone there will be sizing you up, the master was well liked and coveted among the ladies, that's what Simon, his valet, told me. All those ladies will be scrutinizing you, and with a really superior dress it is much easier to be above those petty jealousies.'

Since she was right, I let her convince me, and the seamstress showed me the latest in fabrics and styles, and helped me choose three.

But Mrs Reynolds was not finished with me by far, she strongly suggested I order a long winter coat, as well as a short one, to ride in. She said they needed to be fashionable as well, for I was going to want to wear them in London, too.'

Somehow, Darcy has a feeling his love is not yet done, there is still more to come.

'Of course I objected that I couldn't ride in London, without mentioning why to prevent gossiping by the seamstress. But that didn't foil Mrs Reynolds, for she observed: 'But the master will be wanting to ride in London too, I thought you might want to have one of those dresses made that old Mrs Darcy wore in the painting.'

Elizabeth becomes very intense now, and she says: 'She was right, Fitzwilliam, if we are to spend the entire winter in London, I don't want to sit indoors all day. I'm afraid I'll have to bow for convention and overcome my fear, and ride like a lady there. So I took her hint and chose a fashionable fabric for a riding dress, the seamstress showed me a picture of what it would look like and the style is surprisingly similar to that which your grandmother wore. It is quite becoming actually.

So you see, I'm turning out quite an expensive wife after all, despite being from the country.'

He is almost touched, Elizabeth agreeing to a new wardrobe? And to continue riding in London despite the sacrifice to propriety she'll have to make? She does not show any signs of having been pushed into this, she must really want to make the most of her stay there.

'You don't mind, do you?' she asks. His silence has made her uncertain, she is of course not used at all to spending such amounts on clothing, but Mrs Reynolds is totally right and very attentive to her situation. Ordering all that in London would expose his love to the seamstresses there, who would not understand her reluctance to go all out on lace and ostrich feathers. Starting here with what must be a toned down version of fashion is much more sensible, once she is used to London she will choose her own style.

'I am very happy that Mrs Reynolds thought of this. A London seamstress would eat you alive, dress you up like those ladies we saw at the theatre without consulting you. Though this seamstress' idea of high fashion may be several months out of date, Elizabeth. We live far away from town, you know. Still, if you see a style you prefer you can always order that. Though very rich, I'm also very spoiled, and you deserve some compensation for the hardships you suffer.'

He takes her in his arms and whispers: 'Do you really want to do that, overcome your fears? You can ramble in London, you know, there are some beautiful parks. There is a space in my London stables for Daisy, and I suppose she is very suitable for city-life, but wouldn't you feel humiliated? I don't want to see you diminished in any way, I love you so much, and I admire your independence more than anything. I don't think I can bear to see you bow for anyone or anything.'

His concern obviously touches her, but she has an amazing answer for him: 'Your grandmother inspires me to try, beloved. On the portrait in the gallery she sits that horse with such dignity, she must have been a very strong woman indeed and I will not be diminished by being like her. I'm going to honour her memory by being as dignified as she sits that horse.'

Her bearing is so proud as she tells him this, and then she is back to down to earth Elizabeth: 'Of course I'll have to practise a little before we move, it won't do to show fear in town. I'll have to do that here, in the paddock, where Peter can help me figure out a way to stay in control despite lacking the use of my one leg. Daisy and I will just have to put up the effort.'

'My dearest Elizabeth,' Fitzwilliam breathes, 'I admire you so much.'

He kneels before her and rests his head in her lap, and for a very short moment Elizabeth is reminded of him at his most prideful, not long ago at all, slighting her, looking down on everybody, insulting her during his first proposal. Where did that man come from? Mrs Reynolds never saw him, Elizabeth will never see him again, this is the true Fitzwilliam Darcy, a great man, respected by all, and he kneels before her to profess his love. It is almost unbelievable, but he is real, she can feel his short hair, his manly jaws, covered in very short stubble at this time of the day.

He looks up at her and they kiss, overcome with love for each other, such intense feeling.

When that kiss is done he is back to his usual sedate self, and he says: 'I do admire you, and I propose we have Peter's missus involved as the true expert. She'll relish the challenge and the excitement. But not yet, first I want you to have more experience with Daisy. There is not very much time, but the last four days of our honeymoon will do for what you plan. I want you to spend the rest of the time riding as it should be done, with the use of both legs. Do you agree?'

'I do,' Elizabeth affirms.

That night after dinner they sit by a roaring fire reading decent literature for a change, and Elizabeth wants her beloved to read a few paragraphs to her to see if he's as good when reading superior material. And of course he is, but since it takes up a lot of time they decide to read on for themselves.

Suddenly Elizabeth looks up, and remarks: 'I didn't even ask you what you did this afternoon.'

Fitzwilliam replies with a certain satisfaction: 'I went to see Peter in the stables, he had braved the spiders and rooted out something I was of two minds to see. But with our conversation just now in mind I'll have him spend some time on it, it's an heirloom from the old Mrs Darcy, as Mrs Reynolds calls her.

It needs a good clean and some oil, then plenty of buffing, and then Hugo will have to re- stuff it with lambswool to fit it to Daisy exactly. But when all that is done, you will be the proud owner of one of the most beautiful lady's saddles in the country. The London belles will look at you and grit their teeth, for not one of them can match you in...well, in anything.'

'How do you know it's hers?' Elizabeth asks, also of two minds.

'It had her name on it, but when you see it, you'll instantly recognise it. One might say it looks like the mirror, stylish, of the very best quality, and above all, timeless.'

The next two days they have a very busy honeymoon again, getting up rather early but not without some passionate loving, having breakfast, riding in the paddock for an hour, having lunch, soaking their punished muscles, reading Pierre's story and loving each other again as a result, then rambling, riding out to a village, visiting neighbours, dining, talking and reading, possibly loving each other one more time that day. Or just snuggling or cuddling until they fall asleep. Then they repeat that the next day.

But on the third day, Peter suggests they ride in the paddock for half an hour, then ride out, he has confidence that Elizabeth can handle gentle Daisy, and Darcy agrees wholeheartedly.

And now he has another wish come true, they start by striding over the road, crossing the bridge without problems, then entering the park straight across a large flat grassland. Darcy proposes they try a canter, and Elizabeth consents. They start out slowly, and soon she calls out that he can go faster if he wants to, she is not scared since she has excellent balance riding astride.

They cannot hold hands, of course, but riding is a whole different way of being together, Darcy starts with showing Elizabeth a fabulous view over the farmed fields just beyond his park. They have covered so much ground in such a short time, he can see Elizabeth is amazed at the speed at which everything flies past, even at a trot or a canter.

They have a fabulous ride, everything Darcy ever dreamed of, he really needs to force himself to keep it short, or Elizabeth will suffer muscle aches again. But of course there will be tomorrow, and a whole week after that, no need to rush things.

After their lunch, and their bath, and the things that usually follow that bath, Darcy proposes they try fishing, and Elizabeth wholeheartedly consents, though it is rather cold and the water will be freezing. They walk by the stables to find the hunts-master, hoping he is in and not doing his rounds on the estate.

Though it is a bit of a gamble, they are lucky, for he is just back from inspecting the southern end of the park, and very pleased to set them up with tackle and bait. Darcy can teach Elizabeth how to cast, they're not likely to catch many fish anyway in winter, but practise makes perfect, and it is a suitable activity for a honeymoon.

'Do you mind being active all the time in our honeymoon?' he asks Elizabeth, 'wouldn't you rather laze about? We could, you know.'

She smiles and replies: 'If we laze about in bed, we'll only become active again in a different way, giving the housemaids even more reason to gossip. And besides, I like sharing your sports with you, will you teach me to handle a gun as well?'

'Sure, why not. I'd like to keep the mornings for riding, but in the afternoons we can do whatever pleases us. Do you want to drive to town some day? It's not London, but there is some amusement, music, theatre.'

Elizabeth doesn't even have to think before she says: 'I suppose we'll have plenty of that in London, I'd like to enjoy the country as much as we can. We'll be without all winter.'

'If you get fed up with town, Elizabeth,' Darcy says seriously, 'we can be back here in three days. I won't have you unhappy.'

'We'll have Jane's marriage anyway, that will put us back in Hertfordshire for at least a week,' Elizabeth observes, 'I think I'll manage, if your staff there is as liveable as the people here.'

'I've never noticed any difference, Theo, the butler, runs the household, there is no housekeeper there, and there is just one maid who hires help to do the cleaning and washing. Then there is Simon, my valet, but he only lives in my house when I'm in town. I suppose I'll have to let him go, having him around all the time just doesn't feel right now we're together.

The stables are much smaller, with only one pair of very sedate carriage horses trained for city traffic, stable, but not very fast. It's difficult to exercise the spirited carriage horses in town, Bob does that, but I'll probably send him back to Pemberley once we've arrived, and have him pick us up for Bingley and Jane's wedding. Of course there is a boy to keep the city team.

If you wanted a maid I'd hire one, though Simon would do as well, the few times Georgiana really wanted to make an impression he has helped her dress up, he's good at it. He has no interest in ladies, so he's safe around a maiden, though that is not something that should become common knowledge, he'd be in deep trouble.'

Darcy can see Elizabeth has no idea what he means by his valet having no interest in ladies. She may be highly intelligent, and educated to an incredible level for someone home-schooled, she is a typical country girl in the ways of the world. Never mind, a winter in London will remedy that altogether. She'll catch on quickly.

By now they have reached the river and Darcy is ready to explain how trout fishing works, and his beloved is soon practising her cast. She doesn't have much reach yet, or much speed, but that is no problem, fish are slow in winter so they need plenty of time to strike the bait.

After ten minutes of instruction Darcy can make a few casts of his own, and he is lucky, he catches a reasonable size trout almost instantly. Since he doesn't know how Elizabeth will handle him killing a fish, he releases it back into the river, they probably won't catch enough for dinner anyway.

Casting a rod is very tiring when one isn't used to it, and it's rather cold, with a slight drizzle slowly drenching their coats, so after an hour Darcy is ready to call it a day. But Elizabeth really wants to catch a fish, and they stick it out another quarter of an hour before she decides to give up and try another time.

'I had a great time nonetheless,' she says, 'next time I'll catch one.'

The next morning they ride out again, Elizabeth is now so used to riding that she doesn't need a bath anymore to loosen her muscles, so they just wash and change afterwards, and yes, read a little in Pierre's memoires, by now he is travelling across the island in search of commissions and instruction to improve his art as painter of portraits. But those exploits are sketched superficially, only his quest to improve his skills in his true art, as lover, is described in great detail, and it must be said that the techniques he learns are often very stimulating, as well as the way in which he acquires them, taught directly by married ladies, light women, anyone female that he can convince to give him 'lessons'.

Of course their reading is usually followed by more physical exercise, of the kind almost exclusively practised in the bedroom, though Pierre would certainly object to that statement since he manages very well in parks, bushes, against trees and his favourites, in the labyrinths and follies of the rich and noble.

And then Fitzwilliam tells Elizabeth he has a visit in mind for the afternoon. Before long they take the carriage to visit Peter's missus, as everyone apparently calls her. The young couple live in a picturesque cottage just outside a small village, rather close to the boundary of the park, but due to the size of the park it must be a good half hour walk to get there.

There are no horses around the house, nor any other livestock except a few chickens, but behind the house there is a large paddock and there are several fields, suggesting that she usually does keep a few of her father's horses there.

Peter's missus' actual name is Sarah Norman, and even with a huge belly she is quick on her feet and rather slim of limb. She has dark red hair pinned to her head tightly, lively grey eyes and a snub nose. Elizabeth finds her oddly attractive, she can imagine what Peter sees in her, there is so much energy in his sturdy young wife.

Mrs Norman is not as humble as Peter, she shows Fitzwilliam the respect he is due as her landlord and the master of her husband, and she is very nice and outgoing to both him and Elizabeth, but it is clear she has the independent spirit of a farmer's daughter, that certain awareness that everyone in the world needs food, and farmers provide it. Elizabeth likes her a lot.

Of course Mrs Norman loves talking about horses, she knows a lot about them, even about Fitzwilliam's horses. She has one skirt all ready, and says: 'Peter said you ride every day, so I asked my mother to help to get it finished as quickly as possible. We made it exactly as Mrs Reynolds told Peter to, I hope it fits perfectly. The other two will follow next week, I'll give them to Peter.'

Fitzwilliam tells her: 'Thank you very much, Mrs Norman, you have made me very happy by enabling Mrs Darcy to ride with me. With your permission Mrs Reynolds will give your payment to Peter to take home to you, as well as the skirt you lent Mrs Darcy.'

Mrs Norman smiles charmingly and replies: 'My pleasure, Mr Darcy, and please let me thank you as well, for allowing Peter shorter working days, I'm often lonely being unable to walk much or ride at all. It's so good to have him around when I'm having difficulty with the work here. I can't wait for the baby to be born, and be able to move properly again, and do my own duties. I'm used to taking care of myself.'

Fitzwilliam proposes they step outside, which is a rather strange suggestion, but Mrs Norman accedes to it as if they have an arrangement of some sort. And when they do go outside, to the paddock behind the house, Elizabeth realizes they actually do, even though they have never met before.

For in the paddock she can see a horse that must be Daisy, from the colour and the markings on her face, and Peter is just removing her usual saddle and replacing it with another, a beautifully made lady's saddle. Before Elizabeth can become nervous that they want her to just get on, Peter is finished and says: 'All right, I sure hope Daisy remembers, for I've never ridden like this and it scares me half to death. Like those spiders I saw when searching for it in the attic.'

That probably means he is looking forward to doing it, and his expression seems to confirm Elizabeth's opinion. Fitzwilliam asks Elizabeth: 'Since neither of us knows how to use one of these, Elizabeth, will you instruct Peter in mounting? Then Mrs Norman will take over the instruction.'

He's really going to do it, try whether Daisy still remembers carrying a sidesaddle! Elizabeth searches her memory, and pictures how one gets on, and is supposed to sit. Peter is undoubtedly very nimble, and not very heavy, so she cups her hands and stands next to Daisy, and tells him: 'If you'll just mount astride, then move your right leg to the opposite side without changing your seat. Your seat should remain right above the middle of Daisy's back, facing forward.'

Of course humble Peter has real trouble using his mistress as a mounting block, but the only alternative is use his master, and that idea daunts him even more, so he takes a good hold of the saddle, then quickly and lightly steps in Elizabeth's hands and finds his seat.

Elizabeth moves his leg to the right position, Peter's other foot already has the stirrup, and he has Daisy just stand still for a moment to feel the correct way to sit. It doesn't even look too ridiculous to see a man on a lady's saddle, but that is also because Peter doesn't seem to feel awkward at all. He's busy.

Daisy doesn't move an inch, or a muscle, and Peter picks up the reins. 'How do I get her to move, Mrs Darcy?' he asks, and she tells him, adding: 'Though I've learned in a very unsubtle way, you might want to adapt that to your own style.'

Which he does, since Elizabeth only sees his heel move a little, and as Daisy indeed sets off, Mrs Norman falls into stride with horse and husband, and they talk a lot. Fitzwilliam smiles at Elizabeth, and she cannot help kissing him, he is so very attractive.

When they look back towards the action, Peter is showing just how good he is with a horse, for even in a totally unfamiliar position he has Daisy striding perfectly, and happily, she seems really content as she is.

Mrs Norman calls out a few words, and Daisy performs an exercise they have practised, Elizabeth cannot see Peter doing anything, but he must have. After a few more laps he clearly thinks it is time to make some speed, and Daisy trots off. Trotting is not pleasant without two legs to use as springs to catch the movement of the horse, his teeth must be rattling, Elizabeth remembers the feeling, and also never managing to get her father's horse in a canter. That is so much easier astride.

But Peter now moves his leg back slightly and Daisy changes to a canter, which looks just awesome, even with a guy in trousers on the beautiful saddle. For a short moment, Elizabeth imagines herself there in that beautiful dress she ordered, and she almost feels eager to try this in a few days.

After riding a few figures, and speeding up and slowing down, again without obvious signals to the horse, Peter, being a man, has to try a full-blown gallop as fast as the paddock allows, then halts Daisy, unhooks his legs and slides down the saddle.

Then he just puts his foot in the stirrup and mounts again, and Daisy stays rooted to the ground.

As he slides down again, Elizabeth applauds him, and says: 'Bravo Peter, you really are a superb rider!'

Peter smiles shyly, and adds: 'And Mrs Darcy, Daisy is a fabulous horse. She did everything I asked, I didn't miss the use of my right leg very much. It wasn't scary, except trotting is something one needs to practise, in very tiny portions, that is very tiring.

I'm very sure you will be able to enjoy riding in London, despite having to use a lady's saddle.'

Mrs Norman observes: 'She is a truly great horse for this. And I thought it looked very elegant, I can imagine why a lady would choose to ride like this, in a proper riding dress the image is just so charming. Even Peter looked almost elegant in a canter.'

So Mrs Norman teases her husband too, and apparently he likes it as much as Fitzwilliam likes to be teased.

Peter having exchanged the saddles once more, Fitzwilliam shows Elizabeth the lady's saddle, it is indeed a marvellous piece of work, dark brown leather with leaf-like ornamentation in a lighter shade. 'We're going to leave it here, Peter will work with Daisy and his missus for a few days, until he has found the perfect way to guide Daisy with just one leg. And then he'll teach you, so you'll be safe.'

That arrangement gives Elizabeth a twinge of excitement, with such training she will not feel afraid to ride on old Mrs Darcy's saddle, she will feel like she has accomplished something. On their way back they snuggle a little, and talk about Mrs Norman's little house and her love for horses. 'She has no staff at all, Fitzwilliam, how will she find the time to ride with a newborn baby claiming constant attention?'

'I suppose her parents will mind the little thing, love, remember, her dad really wants her to work with his horses, so he will have to free her to do so. Or pay someone with less talent to train his horses. Somehow I'm certain that Mrs Norman will not be stuck at home with a baby, no, that is not her purpose in life at all.'


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 19

The rest of their honeymoon passes way too quickly, reading, talking, making love, riding, fishing, shooting at targets, trying out the lady's saddle. It is much easier now Elizabeth has a lot more experience riding, and a better horse. Also, Peter is as good in instructing her to ride sidesaddle as he is teaching riding astride. After two days Elizabeth dares to leave the paddock and go out, though trotting is still a bit much to ask, she prefers to go to a canter straight away.

There are a lot of clothes coming in, riding skirts, blouses and gorgeous dresses, and the two winter coats, which is just in time, for the weather turns to freezing temperatures and even snow.

'How can one seamstress make so many items in so little time?' Elizabeth asks Mrs Reynolds, as she tries on the coats, over one of the dresses.

The good lady answers: 'I let her know everything needed to be finished within the week, she probably hired a lot of help. That coat is perfectly fitted, she is very skilled, she probably sewed those little tucks herself and let someone else do the simpler jobs, like hemming. Can you do any sewing at all, Mrs Darcy?'

Elizabeth admits: 'I'd probably be ridiculed, censured and despised for it if Mr Darcy's connections found out, but actually I'm very good at it. We couldn't afford a really good seamstress, and I've always been fond of needlework, and when my youngest sister tore her best gown and there was no servant who could repair it credibly, I tried, and I did such a neat job and I felt so good about it, that I've stuck to the habit. Also, we used to improve the fit of the dresses we had made, my eldest sister Jane and I. But I'm very impressed by your seamstress' skills, I couldn't do it that well.'

Again, Elizabeth seems to have made a good impression on Mrs Reynolds by admitting to having mended and fitted her own dresses, something Miss Bingley would undoubtedly find disgraceful.

The housekeeper comments: 'So you know good fitting from bad, and how much work is involved. Good.

The riding skirts look very well-made, too, Peter's missus has a deft hand with fabric. And they look much better than the one you borrowed, the fabric you chose makes the skirts flow much more naturally and they look very feminine on you, Mrs Darcy, especially combined with the new blouses. I saw you ride out on old Mrs Darcy's saddle, when your riding dress is finished you will look just like the old lady's portrait, the master will be so proud!'

Such warmth cannot but make Elizabeth feel really at home here, and in a way she regrets leaving again so soon, and for such a long time. Mrs Reynolds is still admiring the quality of the new dresses, and remarks: 'These dresses, Mrs Darcy, it may seem as if we live in a backwater here, but the master's newspaper is delivered within a day, and the magazines with the latest fashions are also eagerly received. A good seamstress can draw a pattern from a picture, within three days she is ready to make the first try-out dress.

No, your clothes will be fine, but there are some city-folk who will try to look down on you, not even for your lineage, but for being from the country. They will snub you and make you feel naive and unsophisticated. Don't hesitate to tell the master, he will set them to rights. And in matters of style and manners, trust to Simon, he is forthright and always aware of the latest affectations.'

Elizabeth is quite astonished with Mrs Reynolds having an opinion on London folk, and she supposes the good lady must be a little prejudiced against them. But thinking of the beplumed visitors to the theatre, and Miss Bingley's superior attitude, she can imagine the housekeeper being at least partly right. There is just one thing.

'Why would I care what a bunch of total strangers thinks of me, Mrs Reynolds? And how could Fitzwilliam set them to rights, he has no influence over other people, does he?'

The good lady replies: 'I'm afraid I wasn't totally clear, mistress, I'm not talking about total strangers here, but of the staff in your London house. You have proven you care about the servants, and I suppose that means you care about how they treat you. Though you are nominally their mistress, they will test you and try to gain the upper hand over you.

Even Miss Georgiana had a world of problems with them, until the master offered the instigators a choice: treat her with respect, or find another position. Miss Georgiana didn't tell the master at first, until she confided her troubles to me and I advised her that her brother would not find her childish or a whiner, they had told her she would not be taken seriously. But of course he listened to her, he's such a good brother.

You seem rather strong willed, so you will not come to fear them, but they will try to put their will upon you in all kinds of matters. Don't let them, show them who's mistress.'

Frankly, Elizabeth cannot believe this. Servants trying to run the household? Of course she is not going to wait until they snub her then run to Fitzwilliam complaining. She wants to know straight away, she'll ask Fitzwilliam as soon as there is time, there is no way in which she will live in a household where she is treated disrespectfully by anyone.

'Thank you for the warning, Mrs Reynolds, I will certainly keep your it in mind. Are we done here?'

'My pleasure, Mrs Darcy, I want you to feel at home in town as much as here. There is nothing left to do here, I just want to know, do you want to wear some one of these dresses already? To get used to the splendour?' That last is said with true humour, Elizabeth knows the dresses, though rich for her, are very sober compared to what fashionable London ladies wear.

'Yes, please,' she replies, 'and one of the blouses, I think I'll wear it with the new riding skirt when we go out tomorrow. Last time, and then it's off to London. I'll miss all of you, Mrs Reynolds, you have made me feel very welcome here, very much at home.'

The lady is pleased to hear that, and observes: 'And we will all miss you, as much as we will miss the master. He is so lively, and so happy, it has been a real pleasure to have the two of you over for your honeymoon. In spring there will be duties, not just for the master but for the both of you, apparently. Mr Darcy said you and me are going to change the tour through the house together, he mentioned you proposed including the dining-room in it, and told me we may include any rich room you feel is appropriate. I approve of that, a tour is supposed to show off some riches, though the visitors always like to see Miss Georgiana's rooms as well, and they make people see that the master is a loving man.

I'd so love old Mrs Darcy's room to become part of the tour, I love to tell people about her, though we never met. The lady who was housekeeper before me told me about her, before she retired and I got her position. I started as cook, you know, when the master was still a child and the late Mr Darcy and Lady Anne Darcy were a happy family.'

She is looking forward to having a family in the house again, that much is clear. But Elizabeth secretly hopes that may still take a while to happen, seeing Mrs Norman has shown Elizabeth that being with child is very intense, and she still wants to enjoy her life here unburdened.

Better find Fitzwilliam soon and get to the bottom of this matter with the London staff. Elizabeth supposes him to be in the library, and that is exactly where she finds him, reading a new play, a very serious work. He looks up as she comes in, and immediately his expression softens and he puts away the book.

'There you are, I've missed you,' he invites her in his lap, and they snuggle and kiss a little. 'How were the dresses and other clothes, any good?'

'They were fabulous, love,' she replies, 'perfect fit and very fashionable. Mrs Reynolds tells me they are indeed the height of fashion, taken from a magazine straight out of London, like your newspaper.'

'An express, for a magazine? Maybe the fellow delivering my paper deals in fashion as well,' Fitzwilliam says, smiling. 'And why not, fashion can be important, especially in London. I'm glad you'll be totally up to date.'

'Mrs Reynolds told me the London staff may try to snub me or rule me. Do you think that is true?'

Her beloved looks a little serious, then smiles again and replies: 'They did try that with my sister, but she was so young, and so docile. And I gave them a distinct warning then. No, you will be fine, everyone is always polite and very friendly.'

And he becomes positively affectionate, kissing, fondling, but Elizabeth is not so easily convinced, Mrs Reynolds was very clear on this and she wants to know.

'According to Mrs Reynolds, they look down on country people. Do you think she's exaggerating then?'

Still nuzzling her, he says lightly: 'Mrs Reynolds has been to my town-house altogether maybe twice. And you can imagine she would have felt inferior there, here she rules the roost, and there she is a rustic old lady with no influence. So yes, I'd dare say she makes more of that incident than it deserves, I'm sure everything will be fine, she's just projecting the displacement she felt being in town on the London servants.'

Somehow, Elizabeth is not so sure, there must be things going on in his house that is kept from him by the servants, and Mrs Reynolds would know about if from talking to Bob and Simon, whenever the latter accompanied Fitzwilliam to Pemberley. But her beloved's attentions are getting very distracting, and soon every thought of discordance in the household is driven out of her mind by love and desire for her perfect husband. She is just as smitten as Lydia was with her 'dear Wickham'.

The next day Elizabeth takes leave reluctantly of the whole staff and of Daisy. Hugo will bring both riding horses to London, riding the one and leading the other in turns, the sidesaddle in the carriage as luggage. Horses safely delivered in London, the stable-master is then to return to Pemberley in the carriage with Bob. Taking the riding horses to London is a job that should be Peter's, but Darcy won't hear of him leaving his missus who may deliver their baby any day now. And since the other stable-boys cannot be trusted with two horses, yet, Hugo will have to accomplish the three day ride.

When Darcy tells Bob he is to return to Pemberley with the fast carriage horses, since they are planning to stay for the duration of the winter, he seems rather relieved, which somehow seems weird to Darcy, for why would a young carriage driver prefer to spend a winter in the country? There is not much going on at Pemberley when the family is away, and there will be a lot more work for Bob, since Darcy has given Peter a three week leave when the baby is born. Hugo will have no problem ordering Bob to do Peter's work on top of Bob's own.

The old Fitzwilliam Darcy would have let such a subtle sign pass, but the new Darcy experiences a buzz of misgiving and lightly asks: 'Do you prefer the country to the city, Bob? I had thought you the kind of man to enjoy the amusements of London, especially in winter.'

Bob doesn't answer, he looks caught instead, and when Darcy lets a few moments of silence fall the poor man doesn't know how to act anymore. This is the master speaking, he cannot just stand there saying nothing, that would be disrespectful, even rude.

'I beg your pardon Mr Darcy,' he says, 'they told me if I let anything slip I'd be sorry, but I suppose if I lied to the master I'd be even sorrier. So there goes: I've never liked being in London because they always picked on me. I used to just stay in the stables most of the time, but since Bruce started to notice the ladies, there is no safe place left.'

'Who are they, and why didn't you tell me?'

So Mrs Reynolds was right.

'I didn't think you'd believe me and they said they'd get me fired. Theo and Janine are the ones who started it, Bruce and the hired help merely follow their lead. Simon is not involved, he's their worst victim. He doesn't dare tell you either. Cook and Mrs Annesley don't even know, they've been very subtle.'

Darcy wants to shake him for being foolish, but the poor man has suffered enough. This is Georgiana all over again, only worse, for Bob cannot defend himself at all, his position carries great responsibility, but is unfortunately also quite humble. But Simon, Darcy has always treated his valet with the utmost consideration, how can he be forced to silence? They have spent weeks on the road together!

Putting a hand on his driver's shoulder, Darcy says: 'Bob, I trust you with my life every time we go out together. You are valuable to me, and I want you to be happy in my service. I believe you, and I will act, but first I want to see them at it with my own eyes, I need to see exactly what they are doing. It will be difficult enough to dismiss someone who has served my father before me. Can you bear with them for a few more days to enable me to witness their misdeeds?'

Bob nods, obviously relieved, and he even manages a smile, for the master does realise how many decisions his driver makes when sitting on the box of the carriage handling four spirited horses. But to dismiss his long time butler on Bob's word...

'They've done it before, Bob, and I warned them against it. If I witness them bullying anyone, they will face the consequences. I will not be trifled with!'

Darcy can see the effect of his anger on Bob, even though the young man knows he's not the target, he still blanches. Another reason Darcy is glad to have won Elizabeth: she will never hesitate to face him and tell him the truth, and apparently even Simon didn't trust him with it. It feels lonely, to have everyone around him perform some kind of show, leaving him out of everything that matters.

'Choose the carriage you trust best in this snow, Bob, and don't hesitate to call for a break for yourself or the horses if it gets too cold.'

Darcy's friendly tone and caring message calm Bob down, and he observes: 'I love driving Mrs Darcy's carriage, master, it's very light, but still steady and the box has a little windscreen to protect the driver from the elements.'

He bows his head and admits: 'They were not respectful about the mistress either, Mr Darcy, and I secretly hoped she'd teach them a lesson. She has more will than all of them put together.'

'You're not alone in this anymore, Bob, I am with you, and the mistress will support you, and she is indeed not an easy prey. I'd almost let them try and watch what happens. But I want her to like London.

I will speak to Simon, and ask him the same favour I just asked you, to help me catch them at it. It will end, Bob, and I hope if anything happens in the future, you will tell me, or the mistress, straight away.'

'Yes, sir, master, may I go now? I'll go put on some extra layers. I feel much better, sir, thank you sir.'

Just after lunch the carriage is ready and Elizabeth and himself are on their way to London. Darcy tells her what Bob confessed, and she is very concerned: 'I'm glad you asked him, or he might have suffered even more those few days until Hugo arrives. I'll be alert as well, they may indeed try for me, and though Bob and Simon are as human as myself, to the rest of the world I suppose disrespecting me would be counted the worst offence and therefore the best reason possible to dismiss them instantly. Will they be difficult to replace?'

It clearly distresses Fitzwilliam to even consider that, he has shared his life with these people for years, he needs to see them at it to really believe. So Elizabeth says: 'Never mind, don't answer that, let's first see how things work out.'

And as they drive away through the park she kisses him and caresses him to make him feel a little better, of course those kisses leading to other tokens of affection.

Despite the snow they reach London in the usual three days, and as Bruce takes the horses to guide the carriage to the stables, Fitzwilliam catches Bob's eye and sends him a heartening look. Then he takes Elizabeth to the front door, which Theo is holding for them, looking at his master with what to Elizabeth seems true affection.

But the butler knows his manners and greets Elizabeth first, very formally and very respectfully. Elizabeth doesn't know him well enough to see what he feels, whether he is set to dislike her.

Trying to be fair, Elizabeth makes an effort to draw him out as she did the staff at Pemberley, but that doesn't work, she cannot get any story out of him, only polite phrases and short replies.

It is difficult not to take that personally, but Elizabeth steels herself as if she is with Miss Bingley, if these Londoners want to test the country folk, she will be ready for them and not care. She can feel her emotions detach and her courage rise.

As a true lady she now enters the house on her doting husband's arm, to be welcomed by Janine, the resident maid, several hired girls and the cook, a gentle man of middle age, strangely enough rather thin. He has two helpers as well. And Simon, the valet. He is supremely handsome, about her own age, small of stature and slim and elegant. Dressed in a livery, he wears them as if they are a king's regalia, just the crown lacking.

After greeting the cook, his helpers and the hired maids, most of the staff goes back to work, leaving only the butler, the maid, and Simon.

Simon greets the lady first, too, bowing and kissing her hand, and he does make some conversation with her, about how he has missed the master, and how he is looking forward to introducing the new mistress to London culture and manners.

'Mrs Reynolds has set you up with the latest fashion, I see. Your coat is just marvellous, I'm looking forward to the rest of your collection.'

He is so friendly and elegant, and very well-mannered, Elizabeth can see why Fitzwilliam likes him, though she doesn't see any sign of him not liking ladies at all. He's very nice, actually.

Georgiana and Mrs Reynolds seem to be absent, and the butler tells them Miss Darcy is off to her lesson, but will return in an hour and a half, in time for a late lunch.

Fitzwilliam now invites Simon to come with them to the sitting-room, and orders tea and coffee as Theo takes their coats. The contrast between Fitzwilliam treating the one as a friend, and the other as a servant doesn't seem as obvious to her beloved as to Elizabeth herself, and she quickly watches Theo's reaction. His dignified expression shows a flash of feeling, then returns to normal. The feeling is not so much unfriendly or angry, but rather envious and hurt. Theo seems to love Fitzwilliam very much, his eyes follow his master for quite a long time as Fitzwilliam walks in the direction of the sitting-room with Simon, arm over the smaller man's shoulders, talking away freely.

Elizabeth cannot observe Theo any longer without being rude, so she switches objects and takes a look at Janine, who does not look dignified at all, but openly hostile. And not at Simon's back, but straight at Elizabeth. Whatever does that woman think she is doing? She behaves as if she is the mistress here, and her new mistress the servant.

This is not the time to challenge her, though, so Elizabeth does not return the stare but pretends to study the hall itself, which is not a peculiar thing to do since it is very beautiful, with wooden panelling, a marble floor, and a magnificent chandelier high above her head. A chandelier in the hall!

Though Elizabeth is not used to the number of servants Fitzwilliam employs, she has always had servants about, has seen how her parents dealt with staff and, from a certain age, found her own way to associate with them. She has always been less familiar than her mother, not complaining to servants or telling them any private concerns, but more informal than her father, preferring to be liked rather than just obeyed. And it has always worked for her, she has never had reason to suspect their maids gossiped about her or were polite to her face then vented their dislike behind her back.

This is the first time that Elizabeth has ever had a servant disrespect her, and she finds she has no tolerance for such a lack of manners. If Janine truly hates Elizabeth just for the fact that the latter married Janine's master, she cannot be won, and she will have to go. Elizabeth looks at the décor of the hall a little longer, waiting to see if the maid will take her dislike further with her master absent, but before anyone can do anything, Fitzwilliam returns to the hall.

He must have missed her already, for he has a very soft expression and a question in his eyes. He takes Elizabeth in his arms, but instead of relishing his affection she steals another look at Janine, then at Theo. It is unmistakeable, both are very jealous of the attention she gets from the master of the house. It's just incredible how much love he inspires in them, for Elizabeth is quite certain he doesn't care half as much for them, nor can she imagine that Fitzwilliam has ever encouraged them to get attached to him personally. He takes good care of his staff and likes to be appreciated for that, but all in all serving him is just a job like many others.

Of course Fitzwilliam notices she is not entirely with him, and he looks at her, again with that question. Now she leans into his embrace as she always does, and whispers: 'I'll tell you later.'

'Come, beloved,' he observes, 'let's make ourselves comfortable in the sitting-room. It has been a long trip.' Then he kisses her for good measure, as if they haven't already been very intimate in the carriage that morning.

Elizabeth follows him to the sitting-room but looks back for a second, seeing the two main servants of this house look after their master and his new wife with undisguised envy.

Once in the sitting-room, Elizabeth sees Simon sprawled over a chair, he truly feels at home here. The two of them sit down as well, Fitzwilliam clearly eager for Elizabeth to join him on a sofa, holding out his arms to her again. Though that is not entirely decent in company, this is actually a servant, so she indulges her husband and sits quite close to him, his arm around her once more.

'Master, you are smitten!' Simon comments cheekily, 'I remember you being down, but I have never seen you this exuberant, it is a feast to my eyes.'

He is pretty forward, and Fitzwilliam doesn't seem to mind at all, this young man has a lot of goodwill from her beloved, and he knows it. 'I am totally lost, Simon, don't expect even a smatter of sense out of me, I'm not back to earth yet after two weeks of heaven.'

After five more minutes of easy chat, not without some bantering between the two men, Janine enters with coffee and a few treats, presenting a totally different figure, all affability, obviously glad the master is back, even rather attentive to the new Mrs Darcy. What a minx!

But once the coffee is served she has to leave the room, and no sooner has she closed the door behind her, or Fitzwilliam's expression and tone change to kind concern as he asks: 'Now tell me, Simon, what is going on here? All seems well around me, but I'm hearing reports of bullying going on behind my back. I want to know what has been done to you, and why you haven't told me anything.'


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 20

The effect of Fitzwilliam's question is most extraordinary. Simon has to swallow very distinctly, then hides his face in his hands in what seems to be shame. Why should he be ashamed of being bullied and not telling his master about it? Fitzwilliam doesn't hurry him, he sits quietly, waiting until Simon has his control back.

When the young valet starts to speak it becomes obvious that he is indeed very much ashamed, and his halting words soon explain: 'I'm sorry master, you know I've never kept anything from you before. But what they are imposing on me with is so intimate, and has such potential to harm me forever if it gets out, there is nothing I can do. If they talk, I will never work again, and I may be in danger from the law and everyone around me. They can reduce me to become a beggar with what they have the power to disclose. If I had told you before or even told you now, you would have me thrown out without references, I'd be ruined.

I've not done anything wrong, master, you know I wouldn't. This is just who I am, I've tried to get cured but nothing works. Can't you just ignore it? I can bear a little teasing, I'm used to it, I have older brothers.'

'It's not just you, Simon,' Fitzwilliam replies soothingly, 'they have been tormenting Bob as well, and he clearly cannot bear it, I could see he had something on his liver, though I had to push him to tell me. But you, Simon, I didn't even notice anything was wrong, you kept it from me.'

'Please don't make me tell now, master, please. I thought I might just find another situation, then pray they forget about me. You're married now, there is no place in your household anymore for a valet. I'll have to leave you anyway!'

Elizabeth just cannot believe her eyes, another one of them, Simon is very close to tears at the very thought of leaving Fitzwilliam!

'I know what they use to hurt you, Simon, why do you think I let you help my sister dress all by yourself? Don't you think I would have insisted on a chaperone otherwise?'

That was obviously the wrong thing to say, for Simon now collapses, hugging his own knees, crying softly. Whatever can be so bad that it reduces a grown man to crying, after having withstood months, maybe even years of torment from his closest colleagues? Elizabeth feels really countrified, it is as if they are talking in city code, something she cannot understand.

Fitzwilliam looks at her and asks: 'Do you mind?'

Well, apparently she's not totally stupid or thick after all, just countrified, for she can still take a hint and recognise he wants to comfort his valet. Comfort a servant? Is this Mr Darcy? Feeling quite soft inside, she nods her assent, and sees her beautiful husband stand next to his young servant and lay an hand on his shoulder.

Fitzwilliam is very proper, this is nothing Elizabeth wouldn't do if she saw someone in such distress.

'Never mind, Simon, you trust me, don't you?'

Now looking more like a boy, the handsome young man gazes up at him and replies: 'More than anyone I know, master.'

'Can you believe me if I say you will be safe here? I need Bob to enjoy his work, we trust our lives to him, he cannot be unhappy or distracted. And I need you to feel welcome and useful here, and you will be. I don't suppose I'll need a valet that often anymore, but Mrs Darcy and Miss Darcy will make good use of your insights in London society, and I have a feeling there will be a vacancy in my household staff very soon that you may be able to fill with your talents.

There is a slight risk that your secret will come out when that happens, but if it does, I will stand by you and keep you from ruin with the means I have at my disposal. Please trust me, Simon, and be brave for a few more days until the matter is resolved. Just pretend nothing has changed, I'm going to be haunting this house the coming days and especially the servant's quarters and stables, I want to know what they're doing and what measures are pertinent. That depends on the nature of the offence, which I want to find out for myself.'

The young valet does take heart at Fitzwilliam's speech, though Elizabeth still doesn't understand, but she supposes her beloved will explain later. First he ruffles Simon's hair, and the poor lad looks up at him in adulation. Worse than that actually, in worship. But Simon's not a boy anymore, he's a man, at least her own age. Then that look must be...

Elizabeth cuts that thought short, it would explain a lot, but she has never heard of it. Better wait what Fitzwilliam has to say before jumping to conclusions.

Her beloved must be absolutely torn in two, stalking the halls of his own home to catch his trusted servants red-handed, dismissing Janine and most likely Theo as well will be very hard on Fitzwilliam, he has lived with them for years. Elizabeth kind of hopes he will catch them at something really bad, to make it easier on him, but also so that she herself does not have to convince him to let at least Janine go. There is no way in which Elizabeth is going to share a house with a maid who looks at her with undisguised hatred!

Soon Simon has calmed down, and Fitzwilliam leaves the two of them to take a short stroll to the stables, quietly and unobtrusively.

Elizabeth and Simon stay behind.

'I'm so sorry, Mrs Darcy, to let myself go before you, the first time we meet you see me lose it. That cannot make a good impression.'

His voice is back to normal, but his mind isn't, Elizabeth can see that easily. He's still almost in shock, having his trouble exposed, and realising the master knows his secret. It must be bad to cause a grown up man such intense fear and shame.

'I don't doubt your fear is very real, Simon, and living in one house with people out to hurt you is unacceptable. I'm sure your master will make everything right. I like his suggestion of you helping both Miss Georgiana and myself to get a little more world-wise, I know she has lived in town at least half her life, but I suppose she has been very sheltered. She may be of an age now to want to change that. I've lived in the country all my life, I may be a lost cause. I'm very certain we can use the help.'

She has decided to make some conversation, they hardly know each other and Simon still seems a bit upset, better not set him off again by the wrong remark. And he indeed thankfully observes: 'If the master sees fit to keep me in his service I will be delighted. And I do trust him, in fact I'm starting to feel very relieved he knows. He'll tell you I'm sure. The master would never marry a woman he couldn't share everything with, and I'm sure you will settle in town really quickly.'

When Fitzwilliam returns, Simon asks leave to retire, and of course is allowed to go. 'Remember, Simon, you'll be free again soon. And I've asked Bob to hang out in the staff-room more often, he doesn't mind playing bait, he's got everything to gain by exposing whoever keeps taunting him, maybe we won't even need to use your testimony.'

And to Elizabeth he says: 'Shall we retire to our bedroom for an half an hour, my love, where we will not be disturbed?'

As they sit on the bed, Fitzwilliam says: 'I cannot believe I'm stalking my own staff, the people I thought were loyal to me above all else. I feel betrayed and even a bit sad.'

Elizabeth takes him in her arms, and observes: 'They are loyal to you, in fact I think they are mostly very jealous of Simon. I observed those two when you took Simon to the sitting-room, and Theo looked more than a bit envious of your preference of Simon over him. Janine threw me a decidedly unfriendly look, there was nothing subtle about that. Then when she came in with the coffee she was the complete opposite, friendly, almost demure. What is she thinking, that she can make me leave? That I will accept insolence from a servant?'

For a very short moment, Fitzwilliam almost smiles at her decided tone, then his face becomes serious once more and he states: 'In our marriage it will not work, but there must be plenty of places where a cunning servant manages to sow discord between a husband and wife. Suppose I wouldn't believe you? She was perfectly polite before me.'

'But what is the gain? What is in it for her? Does she like making people unhappy? We cannot unmarry, and even if we could, you could never marry her. There would be another mistress of the house sooner or later.'

'There you may have the point, she felt she could handle Georgie and thus be the mistress of the house, being the highest-ranked female of the staff. To keep that position she needs to get the better of you as well.'

Elizabeth still thinks the stakes too high: 'But it will cost her a job she has had for how many years?'

'Ten, I think. She started as a very young woman, I don't think she has ever served someone else, she must have lost perspective. Do you want her gone?'

'I'm sorry my love, but I do. I've never disliked someone at first sight, and since my dislike of you turned out to be so wholly undeserved, I have become even more careful disliking them on second sight. But the look she threw me, it was pure hatred. I do not want to live in a house where someone hates me, and since I promised to stay with you until death do us part, I'm afraid she will have to be the one to go. But it need not be tonight, and if you want to see her hatred of me with your own eyes I will bear with her a little longer.'

'Please don't ever leave me, dearest, don't even joke about it. The very idea of living without you makes my heart falter.' Fitzwilliam squeezes Elizabeth to his chest so firmly that she cannot move a limb, but she doesn't want to, whenever he shows his love for her so strongly she feels wanted, and safe. Her beloved is still musing.

'Maybe my staff has grown too close to me after all these years, maybe it is time they find some other position, where they will have to earn the respect of their employers again. But I still need to see with my own eyes how bad their bullying is, to decide whether they will get references from me.'

Then he seems to realise something else, and observes: 'Do you really think I treat Simon differently than Theo? Simon may be too close to me as well, but I like him. I appreciate Theo's work here, but I don't feel a bond to him. Nor to Janine, frankly.'

'You certainly did treat Simon differently just now, you took him to the sitting-room chatting, and left Theo with your coat and Janine to serve the coffee. And frankly, both Simon and Theo looked as if they adore you a bit much for grown men, I mean, if they had been ladies I would have been jealous myself.'

Something falls into place for Fitzwilliam, but not for Elizabeth, so this time she looks her question.

'I see I have some explaining to do. I told you when we were still at Pemberley, but I suppose you didn't understand. You know some things are just not talked about in the country, not even at Pemberley.

Simon does not fall in love with women, he falls in love with men. That of course is not something he can have other people know, he is doomed to live in loneliness forever. But he is a good valet, and he has other talents, so he can at least make a good income for himself and his parents and siblings. But if word gets out, no-one will hire him, and even his own family may refuse to acknowledge him any longer.

I don't mind what he is, I know I can trust him with Georgiana and that means a lot to me, but others would throw him out or even beat him. He said just now that Theo had found out and bullied him with the knowledge, threatening to expose him if he complained to me. And what would he complain about? Them bullying him with preferences that would most likely get him dismissed instantly?

Except that I already knew, I don't remember how, I guess it must have been those yearning looks at me, and his total lack of interest in Georgie. Despite being a servant and a low one at that, Bruce always looks at her in a certain way, well, like a man, another man recognises that look. Except Simon never had it.

And now you are telling me Theo also looks at me that way? Why would he pick on Simon then?'

Elizabeth is not exactly stunned with what Fitzwilliam tells her, it confirms that thought she suppressed for not ever heaving heard of this existing. Instead of shock she feels a bit of shame, to be so naïve and countrified. But that doesn't mean she is stupid, and she replies: 'To cover up his own secret. Hating someone who has that will throw people off his own trail. Very low if you ask me.'

'You're not shocked? Disgusted? You're not going to have me kick Simon out for having a bit of a fancy for me?

'Of course not, as you said, it's their problem, not ours. Though Theo is making his problem Simon's as well, and that's not fair. My problem is, I'm just realising how naïve I am. I need Simon badly, I need to be brought up in the ways of the city fast, before I make a total fool of myself.'

'My dearest Elizabeth, have I told you recently how much I admire and love you?'

He's doing it again, looking at her in that special way that makes her heart skip a beat. They are already in a tight embrace, they cannot hold each other closer. With a cry of feeling she kisses him, and he answers that kiss with all the love he feels. It is so special to love someone so much and know that love is returned.

As soon as she gets her breath back, she replies: 'You have, beloved, and I'm glad, for I feel kind of stupid right now.'

'You have been in this house for less than an hour, and you've found the reason why Theo is bullying Simon. He must indeed be jealous, I'm not sure about hiding his true nature, but you may be right, I've never caught him checking out women, but I thought it was professional pride or respect. I didn't catch him checking out men either, and once I suspected I did notice Simon doing that, very covertly, it may have been when Nathan came to London on business, he's very good-looking after all.

Of course I felt Simon react whenever I touched him, and a touch sometimes does happen when someone is wrenching you in a coat that seems at least a size too small. But both of us ignored that and just horsed around a little. That familiarity must have made Theo livid. I'm sorry I never caught on to that, but of course there was trouble with Georgiana before this. It's time to make tough decisions.

Will you let me spy a little in the kitchen while you explore? I expect Georgiana to come home any minute now, I wonder what she has seen of all this.'

And so it happens that Elizabeth checks out the rooms of this house, there are very many of them, and all perfectly decorated. Fitzwilliam does have excellent taste, but Georgiana needs some space to develop her own preferences, and some rooms can use a bit of a feminine touch, maybe she can convince her sister to exchange some thoughts on that soon.

Coming across the library of course she gets distracted, so many books, it must be one third the size of the Pemberley library but that is large enough to provide a medium sized city with books. This is still very large for a private owner, and Elizabeth wonders how many books are doubles, and how many are adding to the sum of his collection.

As she browses the shelves, picking up a volume now and then to take a closer look at its contents, she feels a presence behind her in the room.

Thinking it to be Fitzwilliam about to surprise her, she turns around to see Janine standing there, looking even more hostile now she's alone with her mistress. Except she doesn't seem to recognise Elizabeth as such, which strangely causes Elizabeth to feel curious rather than angry or affected. Why does she act like this, what is the gain the woman expects to come of it?

As Elizabeth just looks at her curiously, the maid isn't affected at all by her scrutiny, she just stands there and stares back. Elizabeth is not going to start a staring-match with a dependent, or speak to her if there is nothing she wants from her, so she turns back to the rows of books and ignores Janine entirely. Feeling a bit of discomfort to turn her back on someone so hostile towards her, she soon dismisses the feeling and finds interest in the books around her, until Fitzwilliam seeks her out to tell her Georgiana is back from her lesson and lunch is ready.

After leaving Elizabeth to explore, Darcy moves quietly towards the kitchen, something he is surprisingly good at for a man of his size and bearing. Of course being a sportsman he has learned to keep absolutely still, or he'd never shoot anything.

He supposes few members of his staff ever enter the kitchen, it is the cook's domain and anyone except his helpers would be in the way. The kitchen has a door to the staff-room which is usually closed but can be opened, to allow the cook's helpers to serve meals and coffee, and Darcy plans to spy on what is going on in the staff-room from the kitchen.

Entering the kitchen through the door that is used to serve meals to the family, he explains to the cook why he wants to stay in the kitchen unobtrusively for half an hour, and though the cook is surprised to hear it, he also admits he is usually too busy and his place in the kitchen is too noisy to hear much of what is going on in the staff-room.

Preparations for lunch and dinner tonight go on, the kitchen staff ignores him, and Darcy peeks through a knothole in the door at what is going on in the room itself.

Bob is indeed sitting there, chatting with one of the hired maids, a pretty young woman with a fresh face. She must be hired especially for their return to the household. After a short talk, the maid excuses herself to go back to her duties, and the cook brings Bob his lunch, and stays for a while to catch up on the Pemberley news.

Then Theo comes in, and one of the cook's helpers brings him his lunch, which he eats at the same table as the two others. Everything seems completely normal, just three men, one of whom has just arrived after a long absence, exchanging news.

The cook comes back into the kitchen with a question written in his face, and Darcy starts to doubt whether Bob hasn't read the situation in the wrong way. But when the cook has closed the door behind him, Darcy having made way for him for a moment, the latter goes back to the knothole and sees a totally different scene.

Theo is sitting menacingly close to Bob and asks calmly why Bob doesn't eat his lunch in the stables, where he belongs being the country bumpkin he is. Considering the smell he carries around him all day, there is only one place suitable for him, doesn't he agree? With the other horses? They might be better company, too, same long nose, same big teeth, same level of intelligence.

When Bob doesn't react, Theo shoves him once, hard, Bob nearly falls but he manages to keep himself upright. Devilishly clever, for if he were to fall someone would certainly come running from the kitchen and ask for an explanation.

As Bob rights himself, Theo spills the contents of his cup of coffee in Bob's plate, ruining the food on it, then starts to eat his own lunch, totally ignoring Darcy's trusted driver, forcing him to either complain to the cook and hope his word will be believed against the highest-ranking servant in the house, or do without lunch.

Bob seemingly chooses the last option, and makes himself scarce, undoubtedly to the stables. Seeing the pleased expression on Theo's face is truly painful. How can he have kept such a sadistic nature from his master for so long? How can anyone enjoy torturing someone weaker than themselves?

Darcy decides not to confront Theo with what he did just yet, Theo might warn Janine something is up, and that is not useful at all. Instead, Darcy tells the cook he has seen enough, and suggests the cook might want to peep through that hole himself sometimes when the room is almost empty, see what is really happening in the servant's quarters. Then he swears the man to silence about the master's presence in the kitchen, and he does the same with the helpers. Last thing he does is claim another lunch for Bob, and Darcy is off to the stables to deliver his driver a well-earned meal and commend him for his bravery in facing an abusive superior.

In the stables he can hear a loud voice, and hoping to clear up this business quickly, he quietly peeks around a rough wooden door. And incredibly he can see Bruce, the much younger stable-boy, giving Bob another dose of humiliation. Bob outweighs and outranks Bruce, but apparently he dares not resist this much more physical abuse either. He merely shrinks into himself and takes what he seems to think he cannot avoid getting.

Darcy's anger has been rising steadily, and now it reaches a boiling point, and since the house-staff never comes into the stables he can do something about this situation straight away. He barges in and steps in front of Bruce, face livid undoubtedly.

Seeing his master in a fit of rage, the young man positively blanches, struck dumb, but having been caught red-handed striking a higher ranked colleague who has not lifted a finger to resist, there is not much to say.

Bruce's reaction takes the worst heat out of Darcy's anger, and the latter quietly turns around to hand Bob his lunch, saying: 'I thought you might like some edible food after all, you must be hungry after driving the team through town. I always feel very safe with you on the box, Bob, know that you are not invisible to me.'

Realising his master saw everything that happened, not just here, but in the kitchen, too, his relief is just incredible. He only manages to whisper: 'Thank you master. For your kindness and for the lunch. With your permission I'll go sit on the box now to eat my lunch, so you can finish your conversation with Bruce in peace.'

So he does have some spirit left in him, good. Darcy almost thought it might be too late for poor Bob.

As Bob moves away slowly, Darcy merely observes Bruce. Will he have to be dismissed, too? He is still so very young and impressionable, but he did seem to enjoy poking and slapping Bob a shade too much. No-one can see them here, no-one could have forced him to do that. What he has to say now is very important for his future, as far as Darcy knows Bruce is not married yet, but his mother does depend on his income, as well as his younger siblings.

Finally able to speak, the young man falls to his knees and begs: 'Master, please have mercy on me, my mother and little sisters cannot do without my income. If you throw me out it'll be the poorhouse for them.'

So he does realise the magnitude of what he has done.

'Do you know what you have done, Bruce? You seem to realise that molesting a superior deserves the severe consequence of dismissal, but do you truly realise what you have done to a fellow human?' Darcy feels his anger rise again, he would really like to kick this hypocrite heap of snivelling humanity out on his ear, right now, but Bruce is a human too.

'I do know what I have done master, I was brutal and he didn't even try to defend himself. He was always nice to me, he never did anything to hurt me. I admire him, for he knows horses so well, and he can drive the fast horses through that narrow street around the corner. I truly don't know why I started to pick on him, I must have been mad.'

Darcy raises himself to his full height and speaks with authority: 'Bruce, look up at me.'

As the young man obeys instantly, there is a semblance of true repentance in his attitude, but the decision will be up to Bob.

'I caught you molesting your superior, your position in this household is forfeit, I can dismiss you with a bad recommendation. That means you'll be lugging bags of grain in the harbour, if they'll take you.

Since you are not the only one in this house preying on the weak, I am inclined to think you are not bad by nature, just impressionable. Your fate is in the hands of your victim now, for only he decides whether you may stay despite what you did to him. If he allows it, you will work as the lowest stable boy on my estate, three days away from here. You will be able to support your family, but you will not be able to see them for a year, and you will get acquainted with hard work under a strict master. But only if Bob can still bear the sight of you after what happened.

You will not talk to him on this matter until I give you leave, on punishment of instant dismissal. You will not go into the house for meals or coffee or at all until I give you leave, again on punishment of instant dismissal.

Do you understand?'

'Yes master, I understand. I did a despicable thing and I deserve punishment.'

He has not pointed the finger at Theo or anyone else, he takes full responsibility, which in Darcy's opinion speaks for him. But he is capable of a deed Darcy finds unimaginable, and it will take some hefty recommendations from his dependable staff at Pemberley to regain his trust in this boy.

'Better get back to work then, I'll get back to you as soon as my other business is finished.'


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 21

Now Darcy visits Bob on the box of the carriage, his driver seems relieved, but that is not enough. He deserves reparation for what happened, such a strong, calm spirit brought down to taking punishment without offering any resistance.

'I feel very bad about what was done to you under my roof, Bob,' Darcy says.

'Begging your pardon sir,' Bob retorts, showing some spirit once again, 'but how could you have known? Even Cook had no idea, and he was at work right next door. Theo is devilishly clever.

May I ask whether you confronted him too, sir? Bruce is not a really bad guy, you know, he just followed the others. Though he did continue blithely on his own, he did not feel any pity either.'

'I did not confront Theo yet, for I don't want the rest of the servants to know, I still need to see Janine at her worst. Theo at least will be dismissed without references, he abused his position to torment you, and he really enjoyed it, he should never have people working for him again.

I'm in doubt about Bruce, I told him you would decide on his fate. If you can still bear the sight of him he will be transferred to Pemberley, where he will learn the meaning of hard work as lowliest stable-boy under Mr Hugo. If you don't ever want to see him again, he will be dismissed.'

'But master, he has a mother and three or four siblings depending on him. He'll be lucky to be hired at the docks, and if not, they'll be in the poorhouse.' Bob seems very distressed at the thought, and he exclaims: 'Please don't let the poor mother and those girls suffer for their brother's foolishness. Let Master Hugo work the mischief out of him, he was often bored here, Master Hugo will work him to a thread, then teach him truly useful skills, and your people there will show him how to be a valued member of a team. Please don't ruin his life on my account, master, I will enjoy seeing him covered in muck, that is enough retribution.'

'So be it, Bob,' Darcy says solemnly, 'you're a better man than he is. I will give you one day to reconsider, let him stew in guilt and uncertainty that long. Don't speak to anyone about this and make sure he doesn't leave the stables or admits anyone in here to let them know it's time for retribution. You're bigger and stronger than him, I give you leave to restrain him with force if needed. I trust you will not abuse that privilege to get even.'

And with that, Darcy leaves the stable, to hear his sister's voice somewhere in the house. Georgie is here, better find Elizabeth to have lunch together, Janine's reckoning will have to wait. And who knows, maybe it will have to wait two more days.

Georgie is still in the hall, a good opportunity to study Theo again, and Darcy can see his sister handing him her coat, and Mrs Annesley doing the same. The butler's expression does not change. Good, at least Georgiana is no longer imposed on.

Having been greeted by her brother with a loving embrace and a few heartfelt kisses she immediately inquires: 'Where did you misplace Mrs Darcy, Fitzwilliam?'

He does feel a need to hold his beloved, he has seen some shocking scenes today, especially Theo's glee after tormenting Bob was appalling. Where might she be? 'I left her to explore, she can be anywhere in the house, let me go find her. See you in the dining-room in ten minutes?'

'Who needs ten minutes to find your beloved, Fitzwilliam? She's in the library of course, just fetch her from there. It'll take less than five. Unless you have plans to celebrate your reunion after having been separated for at least half an hour?'

'I have, yes,' he replies in the same spirit, 'so better make it ten minutes after all.'

But he does go straight to the library, where he indeed finds his beloved, browsing among the rows of books, lost to the world.

'Improving you mind once more?' he asks her cheekily, and she turns around instantly, smiling, their reunion as loving as Georgie predicted.

'I've had a productive hour,' he tells her, 'I spied on the servants' room from the kitchen and saw Theo chewing out Bob in a way that was not even remotely harmless. I didn't intervene to keep Janine in the dark a little longer. Then I followed Bob to the stables and caught Bruce laying his hands on the poor fellow, and since that happened where neither Janine nor Theo ever come I could intervene without risking accidentally giving the game away.

Bruce will not leave the stables until matters are resolved in the house. And now there is just Janine left, of course I will let her go because your asked me to, but I'd prefer to know in what manner, Theo is not getting references, Bob has decided to keep Bruce, if he gets sent to Pemberley to scrub stables as lowliest stable-boy under Hugo. The young thug has a family depending on him, and Bob couldn't bear to risk them going to the poorhouse.

How many rooms did you see until you got stuck in the library?'

Smiling fondly, Elizabeth replies: 'About ten, I lost count after I tried to add up all your books. I married the richest man in the world, even if half are doubles.'

'Not so many as a hundred are doubles, only my very favourites.'

'Then I am the luckiest woman in the world, though Janine did creep up behind me in the library to stare at me in anger. I looked right back, wondering why she was doing this to herself, and when she didn't say anything I turned my back on her and went back to browsing the books. Frankly, I don't know what to do with her, so I just ignore her. I cannot get angry, and I cannot get scared. She can't poison me, can she?'

'Not without killing me too, she can't,' Darcy replies playfully, but actually he is starting to get rather concerned. Janine's behaviour is totally unheard of, she may actually pose a threat to Elizabeth, she seems totally out of her mind. 'But just to be on the safe side, better not go anywhere by yourself until she is gone, all right? I've never heard of someone acting like that, it worries me. I cannot risk you, I cannot live without you.'

Now Darcy feels his hand being released, and he is taken in an embrace and kissed. 'Don't be foolish Fitzwilliam, people don't just physically harm other people. She's probably just trying to intimidate me. But I will stay with you or your sister all the time, if that makes you happier.'

'It does.' They kiss once more, then go to the dining-room, where Georgiana greets Elizabeth with affection, embracing and kissing her on the cheeks. After greeting Mrs Annesley his beloved sits down in the chair next to him, exactly where he wants her, and he takes her hand until lunch is served.

As they start on their lunch, Darcy keeps a steady eye on his maid, and at first she is her usual self, polite, obliging. But when Georgie starts telling Elizabeth enthusiastically about her piano classes, clearly very much at ease with her new sister, Darcy steals another look at Janine and sees what Elizabeth means.

The maid is openly showing hostility towards Elizabeth, who doesn't notice because she is intent on Georgiana. Of course Darcy would have been too, if he hadn't decided to be impolite and look at something else, and he is truly shocked. He has never seen anyone look like that at another person, let alone a servant at her new mistress. What did Elizabeth ever do to her? And what will Darcy do with Janine? He agrees with his beloved that she cannot share a house with this creature, but where Elizabeth gave him a few days to solve the matter, Darcy wants the woman away from the love of his life today.

She notices him looking at her, and a smile overspreads her face. She says: 'Master, the cook told me he has something to discuss with you, will you please pay him a visit after lunch?'

Staggered by the sudden change in her, he merely replies: 'Thank you for the message, Janine, I will see him as soon as we're through. You may leave us now, Janine.'

Her reaction to his curt dismissal is relatively mild, she merely curtseys and leaves. Very strange, and rather disconcerting.

They keep up a lively conversation through lunch, this scene is exactly as he imagined his sister and Elizabeth together, Georgie has so much more spirit with Elizabeth around, she cannot but benefit from the association. Of course Elizabeth is used to having a sister, several actually, but only one she can really relate to. His beloved doesn't seem to miss her sister as much anymore after their three weeks of marriage, but she is clearly glad to talk to Georgiana.

After lunch he leaves Elizabeth and Georgiana together in the sitting-room, Georgie demonstrating her new skills on the piano, Elizabeth relishing her performance. He addresses Mrs Annesley, who is working on a gorgeous piece of needlework, a real masterpiece as always, and Darcy decides to ask her tonight whether she keeps everything she makes. But now he merely entreats her not to let Mrs Darcy leave the room by herself, or leave her behind by herself. 'She did not promise to obey me, so please beg her for me if needed.'

In Mrs Annesley he finds at least one member of his staff who is very normal, and she smiles a little at his foolishness and promises to keep Mrs Darcy from being on her own in any way. 'You've changed, sir, since you've been married.'

'I've found happiness, Mrs Annesley, does it show that much?'

She affirms: 'It does, sir, you're a lot more lively, more your actual age.

Not to worry you, but have you noticed something seems afoot in this house? I cannot put my finger on it, and everyone pretends nothing is wrong when Miss Darcy and myself are around, but your valet is not feeling well, and Janine just looked at your wife rather inappropriately.

Oh, I suppose that's why you don't want Mrs Darcy to be by herself?'

'Thank you Mrs Annesley, you're the first person to talk to me frankly, you are right, there is something amiss, and I'm determined to get to the bottom of it. I've talked to Simon and to Bruce already, and Cook promised to keep an eye out. Can I ask you to do the same, within the bounds of propriety of course?'

'You can, Mr Darcy, my eyes and ears are yours.'

And trusting Mrs Annesley to keep his Elizabeth safe, Darcy is off to the kitchen for the second time that day, again quietly, but he doesn't see or hear anything. The cook has contrived to be alone in the kitchen, and tells his master: 'I decided to check the staff-room unobtrusively, as you suggested, and the second time I saw and heard something you need to know.

It was Simon, he was having his lunch alone as he does nowadays, then Janine comes in and like, sits really close to him and starts to touch him. Indecently sir. Really indecently. But Simon, he did not like her doing that at all, he looked as if it was torture to him.

She said, nastily: 'You don't like me touching you, do you? You never have, and I've tried so hard to cure you.'

That's what she said, and he still looked as if she was menacing him. She stroked him and kissed him and he bore it, but didn't return it. Then she took him by the chin like a stubborn child and said: 'You're beautiful, but you're all filth inside. Never mind, the master will let you go soon, can't have you around now he's married. That hurts, doesn't it?'

He fled, and she was positively gleeful.

Do you suppose she did that to him before? It was downright cruel, he must have a girl somewhere that he is faithful to, without her parents knowing. I truly didn't know those things were going on so close to my kitchen, I will check a few times a day from now on. A guy must be able to eat in peace.'

With a resigned feeling, Darcy says: 'Thank you very much, I promise you things will change soon, so that everyone can eat and live in peace in this house.'

First he checks on Simon, and gets a warm smile as welcome. 'Do come in, master,' his valet says, and Darcy decides to do just that. Simon's room is nice, not large but very liveable, and its inhabitant seems content enough.

'How do you feel, Simon?' Darcy asks.

'Frankly sir,' the young man replies, 'I feel useless. You don't need my services anymore, there is nothing for me to do, I just hide here all day until I get hungry.'

'That will soon change, Simon,' Darcy says, 'I saw Theo torment Bob today, in such a way as to leave me no option but to dismiss him instantly. Will you take his job? Not being a butler, but running the household, hiring staff, keeping the stock and the household accounts? Your first job will be to hire a new butler.'

Simon doesn't doubt a second, he says: 'Yes, sir, I will.'

'You accept that I am married now, to the woman I love more than my own life?'

'Of course sir, I saw that straight away, she's the one you were waiting for all those years. You're a new man, you're clearly very happy. I can't wait to teach her city manners. It'll spoil her for you of course, but you won't find that out until it's too late.'

Darcy doesn't even manage a smile at Simon's joking, what he was afraid of has now come to pass, and he says: 'Then all I have to do is fire two trusted servants whom my late father hired, ten years ago. Still, it needs to be done.

Janine was observed tormenting you with unwanted indecencies, fortunately Cook thought you were in a secret engagement to find her repulsive. Also Mrs Darcy has told me Janine watches her with hostility, and during lunch I saw it myself. That is plenty of reason for dismissal.

Another day or two and you can exchange your torment for another: housekeeping.'

Back again to the sitting-room, where Georgiana is still at the piano, of course, and Elizabeth has her own needlework out. She's pretty good at it, but Mrs Annesley's work is art.

Ever since his father passed away, Darcy has made every decision in his life by himself, only in the matter of winning Elizabeth's heart did he seek the comfort of Georgie's support, and his aunt's testimony, but in the end he made his own decision to propose once more. Still Darcy remembers how his father and himself used to deliberate before either of them made a choice, and since he now has Elizabeth for his wife, and Georgie has turned out very observant, he again feels the need to share his information and come to a decision together.

He even decides to let Mrs Annesley have her say, she did notice something was going on and at her age and as an employee herself she can bring a different view on the matters at hand. It is hard to decide on the fate of two servants who have been in the family for a decade, and since Darcy has only ever received their respect and devotion, he feels a need to share his doubt.

At the first convenient pause in Georgiana's playing, Darcy speaks out: 'Ladies, all three of you, I need your opinion on a matter of great delicacy. I feel that together you have exactly the right expertise to help me come to a just decision. Please let me explain.

And he tells exactly what he has witnessed this morning, and heard from the cook this afternoon, relating Simon's ordeal in such a way that the cook's opinion, of him having a forbidden engagement with a girl somewhere, is the most likely option. Georgie may suspect, but Mrs Annesley must not know the truth about Simon.

They all listen to him without remarks or questions, and he concludes with: 'Please give me your opinion on what to do, I've lived with them for so long, and they've treated me with such respect, I still find it hard to believe they would torment colleagues and feel pleasure doing it.

If I send them away without references, they''ll have a hard time finding a new position, but in my opinion neither should have people depending on them again. What is your opinion?'

Georgiana is the first to speak up: 'I suppose you told Elizabeth about how they tried to get me under their thumb about a year ago, but Mrs Annesley may not know about that, yet.' And Georgiana proceeds to tell her lady-companion how Theo and Janine acted as if they were her parents, making decisions in her name and browbeating her into accepting them, telling her the master would not believe her if she complained to him.

Mrs Annesley is truly shocked to hear this, and she dares to say: 'Since you asked me to speak freely, Mr Darcy, I will not hesitate to tell you that I would have laid them off straight away. Without references. That was not just a breach of trust towards Miss Georgiana, it was also a sign of complete lack of respect towards you. You have been very lenient then, I would advise you to be a lot more strict now, and just throw them out. Today. I would not have a servant in my house who looked at my beloved wife as Janine did at Mrs Darcy during lunch. She needs to be taught her place in life by serving a lesser family in a lesser function for a few years.'

Since Mrs Annesley is an employee herself, her opinion carries weight with Darcy, and he thanks her for her honesty. Then he looks at Elizabeth, who says: 'I agree with Mrs Annesley. It is hard to just throw them out in shame, but they did have a clear warning before, and chose to disrespect you again. They knew what the consequences might be, and took the risk to have the base enjoyment of treating two of their fellow human beings cruelly. Let them feel your wrath, Fitzwilliam, before they dupe another family.

I'll accompany you to steel your heart.'

Georgiana adds: 'And I agree, too. I have felt the tension though I didn't know the exact cause. Simon was with his parents of course during your absence, but when he came back and said hello I could feel something was wrong. And Janine and all the maids she hired have been barely civil to Mrs Annesley and myself. I was planning to speak to you about it, but you beat me to it.'

'If that is how matters are,' Darcy says, 'I will be very grateful if you will stand by my side, Elizabeth, when I dismiss both Theo and Janine. I suppose the staff they hired will have to go, too. I plan to let Simon take over as housekeeper, and have him hire a new butler and new maids.

I think I'll keep Bob here to take over from Bruce when he gets demoted to the Pemberley stables. Anything I forgot?'

'Begging your pardon, Mr Darcy, but I think so,' Mrs Annesley now observes. 'Being married you will be around a lot more often, and Georgiana has grown up to such an extent she doesn't really need a constant companion anymore. Please tell me, sir, what are your plans for my employment?'

'Would it be acceptable to you, Mrs Annesley,' Darcy replies, 'if I were to ask you to help Simon with finding dependable staff and taking charge of the accounts? After that I would set you up to start your own business in your art. For I cannot imagine you are keeping all those magnificent pieces of embroidery you have made to yourself. You must be able to sell those to even the most spoiled noble ladies in London and far beyond.'

Fortunately, Mrs Annesley looks pleasantly surprised instead of crushed. He has more or less confirmed her assumption that she is no longer needed in her current function, after all.

'I have sold some of my pieces, Mr Darcy, and well, but with the right connections and a little seed money I think I can do much better. Of course I'd love to just stay with my family and earn the income we need with my crafting, but just in case that doesn't work out, will you give me a good reference?'

'Mrs Annesley,' Darcy replies, 'first of all, what you do with fabric and yarn is not craftsmanship anymore, it qualifies as art. And as such, I will be happy to recommend your work to all my connections, and their connections, and to prove your supreme talent to them, I will start by commissioning two works from you, one to be placed in a room in this house, and one for the splendid dining-room at Pemberley. Mrs Darcy really wants to include it in the tour of the house next year, and your work will catch the attention of every visitor there.'

Seeing Elizabeth's approval, he adds: 'I leave it to the two of you to decide on subjects and on size and colours. You know the room, you know this house, you will come to an agreement together.

And of course you'll have my highest recommendations, and seed money for your business to prevent you from ever needing them. Your husband and children will be pleased to have you home again. Should you need a new position after all, do not hesitate to contact me, through Simon, or directly, and I will help you find a suitable place, maybe a bit closer to London.'

Mrs Annesley has a husband and children in town? Elizabeth is quite stunned to hear that, the poor lady, living three days' ride away for most of the year. How can she stand it? Well, she probably has to, it sounds as if she is the one providing the income.

Before Elizabeth can start thinking of what kind of imagery and what colours would fit with the dining-room, Fitzwilliam asks her in a very soft voice, almost a whisper: 'Can you deliberate with Mrs Annesley some other time? I want to have this over with. I'm convinced it is the right thing to do, but that doesn't mean it won't be very hard on me. I'm glad you offered your assistance, if only to stand at my back and show me I'm not the cruel monster I'll feel myself to be.'

And within ten minutes they find themselves in Fitzwilliam's study, Elizabeth sits on his lap for a moment and gives him some caresses and a loving kiss. He really needs a bit of support, and he will need it even more when this is done, but he is the master of the house and he has to protect those who depend on him.

After a few minutes their kiss comes to a natural finish, and he says: 'Will you take a chair and sit next to me behind the desk? Then I'll ring the bell for Theo. He has family in London, I will give him a fortnight's salary to tide them over until he has found a new situation. What he did was despicable, and he enjoyed doing it, but I'm not like him, I don't enjoy destroying people's lives, therefore I will give him at least a chance to avoid financial ruin.'

Elizabeth does as he asks, and she can see him shut out his feeling and take the position of master of the household. Then he rings the bell.

Theo answers promptly, and is very polite, not at all how Fitzwilliam described his actions in the servant's room. But her beloved's blindfold has clearly been removed, he knows what hides inside this man, and it is not pretty.

'I need you to sit down for a moment, Theo,' Fitzwilliam tells his butler as he enters and waits for his masters orders. The servant is instantly alert, it is as if he suspects what is going to happen next, but he does not seem afraid or hopeless. He is playing a dangerous game yet.

'This morning, just before lunch, I was in the kitchen, Theo, spying on the staff-room. It had come to my attention that some members of my household were not feeling very wanted there, so I decided to take a look myself at what was happening. A good thing I did, for what I observed was not something I want to happen in my house.

I saw Bob being tormented by a higher-ranked servant of the house, he was insulted, pushed about, and his food was spoiled, forcing him to miss lunch. Bob never even tried to defend himself, though he is a sturdy chap and could have taught the house servant a considerable lesson if he had dared.'

By now, Theo clearly shows he knows what the master is talking about, not even he would dare deny what the master says he has seen for himself.

'The higher-ranked servant doing the bullying was you, Theo, and I won't deny it hurt me deeply to see you treat another human being like that, and enjoy it. Is there anything you have to say for yourself?'

Theo does not despair yet, his master obviously disapproves of what he did, but he doesn't seem to see much harm in it himself, and his reply to Fitzwilliam's question proves Theo doesn't quite see the seriousness of the situation, not yet. 'It was just a lowly stable-boy, master, they don't have feelings anyway. They're just one step up from the animals they care for.'

That is not what his master wanted to hear: 'I'll tell Bruce you said that, he'll be even sorrier he felt it necessary to emulate your behaviour by making Bob's life in the stables Hell as well. He can mull that over as he undergoes the consequences of his behaviour towards Bob.'

Fitzwilliam is rather put out and observes coldly: 'Theo, Bob is not a lowly stable-boy, he is my driver. He can guide a team of four high-strung thoroughbreds through London rush-hour without getting so much as a scratch on my carriage or displacing a hair on one of my very valuable horses. He is irreplaceable to me, I trust my life and that of my wife and my sister to him.

But even if he had been a lowly stable-boy, you would still not have had the right to hurt him and enjoy it. It proves that you lack feeling and humanity, and I will not expect any of my staff or my family to bear the consequences of that, or even witness the bad example. You will leave my service and my house tonight, and you will not be getting any references to find a new job. I don't think you are suitable for a leading position, you will have to start over at the bottom, which may help you to regain some affinity with the lower ranks by being part of them.

I will not have your family suffer for your lack of respect toward myself and my household, so I will have a fortnight's wages delivered to your parents tomorrow. Go pack your things and begone, Theo. May you find a better path in life.'

Fitzwilliam now clearly shows the heartache all of this is causing him, and for the first time, Theo shows some feeling worthy of witnessing. Still sitting down, he reaches over the table and touches his master's hand, who does not pull his back but accepts the touch. Then Theo finally gets what is happening here, and he cries out: 'I'm sorry master, I thought I always loved and respected you, but you are right, I didn't. I thought you were too easy on your staff, and meant to correct that.

But I suppose I was just jealous and took my dislike out on them, Bob always allowed to go wherever you went, Simon always horsing around with you, touching you, chatting you up. I hated them. You warned me before, and I disrespected you again. I'm sorry, and I'll be much sorrier yet, banished from your household.

Will you allow me one embrace, to take with me the rest of my life? You never gave me even one, you know, in all those years.'

Fitzwilliam is very upset by what Theo says, his butler did all these horrible things out of jealousy? Elizabeth so understands her beloved's shock. Why didn't the man just speak up? Now he'll bear the consequences of his actions, and will never see his master again, will have to bear his ill opinion for as long as it takes Fitzwilliam to process his memory of this moment, which will probably not be very long, since he admitted to not really caring for his butler despite feeling responsible for all his staff's well-being.

Having let go of his mask, Theo is a sorry sight. And despite finding his explanation rather thin when considering what they tried with Georgiana, Elizabeth cannot help but feel sorry for the man. She gives Fitzwilliam a significant look, and he understands and walks towards his former butler, embraces him with all the regret he feels, then says: 'I'm sorry you took it out on innocents. Fare well, Theo.'

His face is impassive until Theo is gone, and when the door has closed behind him he takes Elizabeth in his arms and squeezes her against him, whispering: 'I swear I didn't do anything to encourage either of them, I've always treated them like every other member of my staff, like Bob, or Peter, or Mrs Annesley. I'm not sorry he is leaving, I'm just sorry I couldn't give him a commendation.'

Then he releases her, blanks his face to seriousness, and says: 'Better ring for Janine, have it over with. Then we'll talk to Simon and Mrs Annesley how to continue. I suppose Janine must have some place to go, she didn't speak out on our wedding-night, I asked everyone to spend the night with family or friends and let me know if they didn't have a place to stay.

All the hired help go home at night anyway, I'll ask Simon and Bob which ones can come back tomorrow and which ones stay away. The kitchen staff are above suspicion as far as I know. Plenty to do before dinner!'

With another ring of the bell, Fitzwilliam summons the maid to his presence. As soon as she comes in it is clear she knows, she must have met Theo as he left or he must have sought her out, and she is not going to be as repentant as Theo was when he finally realised what he had done.

Janine remains standing until Fitzwilliam tells her to sit down, but instead of waiting for her master to speak first, she pleads: 'I had to do it master, for you, he has to leave this household or he will besmirch your name with his foulness.'

Now Darcy proves he is not a mean hand at playing the same game, for he earnestly observes: 'I take it you refer to Simon and the girl he is engaged to in secret?'

He is clever, let her explain this without becoming graphic! Her face shows her puzzlement, she is not up to this, but she does try: 'Simon is not engaged to any girl, who told you that?'

Realising the impetuousness of her remark, she corrects herself: 'I'm sorry master, I didn't mean to presume by asking you questions.'

'At least you seem to realise now that you are exceeding your authority in this house. I'm very sorry it had to take you so long to find that out, for I remember warning you almost a year ago that I would not tolerate you usurping my position. Then, I let you off with a warning, this time I'm afraid I cannot do that. By your repeated offence you have proven you cannot be trusted with responsibility, Janine, and though it pains me to have to do this to a servant who has always treated me with respect to my face, I cannot accept you going behind my back, humiliating my valet with unwanted intimacies, welcoming my beloved wife with blatant disrespect.'

Now Janine's attitude changes from demure to vicious, and she hisses: 'You really have no clue, do you? Everyone knows that your 'beloved wife' is just a fortune seeker, a mercenary. I suppose she has ordered a whole new wardrobe, and sent plenty of money to her impoverished family. Why should I respect her?

And your precious valet, why do you stand up for him? Does he pleasure you often to make you keep him here? We all know what he is, how can you stand to have such a one around you? Maybe your new missus didn't hook you after all, maybe you married her to cover up what you do with Simon all night!'

Staggered by the maid's rudeness, and her sudden change from trusted servant to vicious harpy, Fitzwilliam nevertheless doesn't show much of his shock and displeasure, it's knowing him well that gives his rising anger away to Elizabeth, she can see it in the taut muscles and swollen veins in his neck, the clenched jaw, the narrowed eye. Janine has crossed a line and she is going to bear the full brunt of her master's righteous anger.

'Say what you will of me once you are out in the street, Janine, I don't care. My reputation can easily weather the vicious gossip of a degraded servant who after nine years of faithful service decided to blow away her future to gain power over the family she once served.

But be careful what you say to others about Mrs Darcy! I spent six agonizing months winning her affection, I'm pretty sure you see my happiness now I've finally succeeded. I worship the ground my missus walks on, and if I hear any vile piece of gossip that can be traced back to you, Janine, you will regret the day you dared speak to your betters in this way.

I will not even address the vileness you spew about Simon, his private life is none of my business, nor is it any of yours. I will protect myself and those who depend on me against anyone out to hurt them, and you can guess at my connections and means. If you want to find a new job I suggest you keep your vile thoughts where they originated, and spend some time learning to control your temper, or it will be the washing-house instead of a great house for you.

Now pack your things and be gone from my house within half an hour. If I owe you any wages, tell me now.'

A deafening silence follows Fitzwilliam's angry tirade, but he is calmed down to iciness already and observes: 'I take that as a no. You can leave us now, Janine, despite what you did and said I wish you well and hope you will find some measure of happiness. Fare well.'

Not waiting for an answer, Fitzwilliam leaves the room, taking Elizabeth's hand in the process and leading her out. She accepts his gesture, suspecting him to be in need of some loving attention after such viciousness and such a task. He goes straight for their bedroom, and on the bed where they spent their fabulous wedding-night they hold each other for half an hour, stroking, kissing, in total silence.

After these moments of quiet he gets up, washes his face at the wash-stand, his hair dripping wet until he uses the towel.

'All right, that is done,' he states in his usual voice, 'now the next step. I'll consult Bob and Simon, then call a meeting of the staff, and then we have dinner. We may have to fetch it from the kitchen ourselves, I'm glad Cook is above suspicion or we'd have to beg Mrs Annesley to whip up a meal, I'm sure she can.

Let's go, love, and be brave a little longer.'


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 22

Simon is still in his room, and a little maid, looking a bit white in the face, fetches Bob from the stables. They all move to the sitting-room, where Georgiana and Mrs Annesley are at their usual pastimes, Bob almost afraid to be in the master's domain, Simon only a little apprehensive.

Fitzwilliam doesn't spend any time relating what just happened, he merely states: 'Simon, Bob, we will do the rounds of the house in about ten minutes, and I want you to please tell me which members of the hired staff should be told not to return to work tomorrow. You point, I pay their wages and tell them to go. We'll make do with what staff is left, then find new people in the morning.'

Simon, now finding a measure of humour again, and seemingly totally at ease in the sitting-room with his master and the rest of the family, says: 'I'll wait the table, master, you will not suffer inconvenience for saving our skins.'

'Thank you, Simon,' Fitzwilliam says, glad for the droll remark, 'I am afraid I cannot guarantee Janine keeping her vile mouth shut, but I suppose Theo has no real reason to slander your reputation. Whatever happens, we'll support you.

Bob, with Bruce gone we will need someone to take care of the horses here, and I suppose you can do without a three day ride sitting on the box next to him, then sharing Peter's work with him. What would you say to staying in town after all, and driving us to Mr Bingley's wedding with the lead-footed team?'

Bob cannot speak for a moment, but he nods his assent, and after a short time manages to whisper: 'Yes, master, I'd like that.'

'And if you have everything in order around here, Simon, you can join us, too, attend to our needs and flirt with the ladies' maids.'

Gathering his breath to speak up, Simon just in time realises his master's quick thinking, and replies: 'I'd love to, master, Miss Bingley's maid especially is very... talkative. If I hit on her every servant of every house in London will know what I did as soon as she is back in town. Maybe one of you can catch me at it? She is easy as well as talkative and not very pretty, and I don't really want to...well, you know what.'

Bob offers with a grin: 'I'll console her if the master forbids you to come near her, I don't mind if she's not a looker, I'm not that handsome myself.'

'But you're a devil with a whip, right?' Simon says, knowingly.

Fitzwilliam scrapes his throat loudly and says: 'We have ladies present, please watch your mouths.

And Simon, please don't forget yourself, I'm still the master of this household. If you think I'm going to stalk the halls of Netherfield as well as my own house, to catch you with another servant, you might want to reconsider. You think you are a clever fellow, if you cannot get yourself out of a tight spot with a foolish young woman you're not nearly as smart as you think you are.'

Both servants suddenly seem to remember who their master really is, bow and study the floor. Soon after that Fitzwilliam takes them with him to judge the hired servants and notify the cook of the changes. Elizabeth supposes they will also check whether Theo and Janine are truly gone from the house.

In the end, two of the four maids may stay, the other two receive their day's pay and are dismissed. The cook is shocked to hear that both Theo and Janine will no longer be working and living in the house, but he promises his helpers will assist with the serving that night.

'I am certain you will have plenty to do, Simon, if you are to take up Theo's duties. My boys will do the manual labour, keep the fires going and the pitchers filled. And Bob won't mind giving a hand with the pot-scrubbing now the house is safe again, am I right?'

'You are right, Cook,' Bob replies, 'I exercise the team once a day, and Bruce is not much fun to be with, so I'll gladly come and help out in the kitchen.'

'You know you can let Bruce do all the work in the stables, Bob,' Darcy reminds him gently.

'Thank you, master, I will let him muck the team's stables, but with all due respect, master, he cannot handle the fast team. He's used to the lead-foots, and just the two of them in front of a heavy carriage. He'd crash Mrs Darcy's pretty carriage and kill someone besides. If he behaves well at Pemberley, Mr Hugo may teach him how to drive a full team. I'm glad I'm past that, Mr Hugo is a menace, though he is the best. I'm actually glad I don't have to drive him back home.'

Darcy is ready for a solid dinner, and a chapter of Pierre's naughty exploits, with the unavoidable of loving afterwards. Accounts and other details will keep until tomorrow.

'You look knackered sir,' Cook observes, 'it must have been a long day for you, travel all the way here and then find the house in an uproar. We'll have dinner for you in half an hour, my boys will take care of whatever the maids cannot handle, and I'll send one over to Bruce with a platter of food. Just leave things back here to us, and things in the main house to Simon. You have done the hardest part already, a nasty mess to return home to.'

And Darcy is tired, so he lets himself be sent back to Elizabeth and Georgie, glad to have managed relatively well so far. In the sitting-room his beloved invites him in her arms, and disregarding propriety he settles against her and lets her spoil him.

During dinner, Darcy arranges with Mrs Annesley to take the whole of the next day to find Theo's accounts and let Simon get acquainted with his new tasks. Then they can request and review references of potential new servants, and set those they deem suitable up with an appointment to meet Mr and Mrs Darcy, hopefully finding their new butler and maids among the applicants.

Turning in early after a tiring day, Darcy still doesn't feel like sleeping, and offers: 'Why don't I read us a chapter of Pierre's exploits?'

'If it is not too tiring for you, please do, Fitzwilliam. I so love to hear you read. You know I may soon let Georgiana in on your secret, and you'll have to demonstrate your superb skills to her as well. Maybe with a little more exalted literature, though.' Elizabeth is not just talking, she is stroking his chest and shoulders and relishing the feel of his body beneath her hands.

Darcy merely smiles in assent. He doesn't actually mind reading for an audience anymore, if that audience consists of people he knows well. And with his beloved in his arms, touching him but no longer as intimately as that first time he read from this book, he starts on the next chapter.

Pierre has settled for some time, he is painting an entire family with grandparents, small children dressed up like little adults, and even the household pets, a lovely setter and a prize stallion. As he works hard by day to get every single family-member on canvas in their own portrait, and incorporated in the family painting, he works even harder at night, pleasing the lady of the house whose slightly older husband cannot keep up with his wife's needs.

Of course Pierre also samples all the female members of the family, excluding only the grandmother, who is as righteous as a nun. How she ever got eight children is a miracle, according to Pierre.

But since she does have eight children, there are plenty of daughters and grown-up granddaughters to entertain Pierre for several months, until all the portraits are done.

They should be shocked at what the book describes, many of the ladies are not married, and some of them are bound to betray their sins by their swelling waists in a few months, they are after all a very prolific family.

But somehow the naughtiness of it all makes it even more fun to read, and neither Darcy nor Elizabeth feels inclined to put the book away to spare their tender feelings. 'It's all made up, isn't it?' Elizabeth asks.

'Most probably, yes,' Darcy answers, though sometimes he has a little doubt, what if it all did happen?

'I feel a bit ashamed to enjoy this, but we'll make up for it by reading some extra poetry, right?'

Darcy smiles and replies: 'Sure, we'll make up for our sinful reading by choosing some edifying works to cleanse our minds.'

Then he continues his superb reading, and soon he puts away the book and concentrates on his beautiful, strong-willed, brave wife, who backed him so strongly today. For someone not used to being in command of servants herself she made such a resolute decision, she will be a true mistress to both Pemberley and his London house.

Soon they are totally involved in each other, confirming their love in a very physical way, and the very bed where they made love for the first time in both their lives, some three weeks ago, can now testify that they have gained a lot of experience since then.

Though breakfast is served by the cook's helpers, nothing else is different, there is a fire in every room where it is supposed to be, the pitchers are filled, the laundry removed, everything seems the same as usual. Except for Simon joining them at the table, and him and Mrs Annesley talking business constantly.

Georgiana seems bored, and Elizabeth offers her to accompany her to her piano lesson today, to allow Mrs Annesley the time to help Simon, but also to see how her sister is doing. 'Do you mind taking a cab?' Georgiana asks her, 'Eric, I mean Mr Fielding, doesn't like to have a carriage waiting out front for up to two hours. He says my mind needs to be free of distractions, and having a carriage block his narrow street, just for me, does distract me. And you'd better bring your needlework or a book to keep you from studying me, or he'll send you to the waiting room. He can be very strict. He looks kind of good-natured, and he is very polite and obliging, you'll notice, but once he's teaching, he's the master and his student obeys. You'll like him, though, he's very talented.'

Elizabeth tries to keep herself from having an opinion, she can embroider and watch Georgiana and 'Eric' interact before she decides whether her sister has a crush on her piano-teacher. At least he's English. Does he know she has thirty thousand pounds? That much money would go a long way towards establishing a career in music.

Now she's doing what she wasn't going to do, Elizabeth's time for prejudices and assumptions is past. Georgiana is nearly an adult, she has known someone who was after her money, no-one will be more paranoid than Georgiana herself.

'I don't mind at all taking a cab, if you'll hail it for us, you know I'm as rustic as woollen underwear. I'll be at your mercy entirely, hiking through town.'

Georgiana squeezes Elizabeth's hand, and observes: 'I'm so glad you've come to stay here, we'll have such fun together. Let Fitzwilliam take care of business, and we'll amuse ourselves.'

'I do feel guilty leaving him to bear the responsibilities again, we were going to share those.' Elizabeth feels a little doubt, Fitzwilliam was so affected by what happened, is it fair to leave him by himself?

'You're doing your share chaperoning me. Can you picture him watching me play piano for two hours? Don't worry, he's glad you're doing the honours. And you can always make it up to him tonight.'

Such a cheeky remark for a sixteen year old! But true nonetheless.

And as Fitzwilliam is poring over the household accounts with Simon and Mrs Annesley, Elizabeth is taking her first baby-steps into the city, under the expert guidance of her sixteen year old sister-in-law.

'This is actually the butler's job, as long as we're in front of the house,' Georgiana says, beaming, as she expertly hails a cab. 'But Mr Fielding has no butler, and Mrs Annesley agreed it would be absurd to let him hail a cab when I can do that just as well myself. I'm really good at it.'

And indeed, the first cab to pass by does halt in front of them. Georgiana greets the driver, calls out the address, then gets in, followed by Elizabeth. It isn't very lady-like, but if Mrs Annesley approves, Elizabeth is not going to object. Within ten minutes they arrive, and Georgiana lets herself out of the carriage, pays the driver, and says: 'It's that house over there, come!'

A young maid opens the door and leads them through a marble floored hall to a medium sized room with a light wooden floor and white-washed walls. There are no paintings, no ornaments, just a large piano with a very broad stool, and a sofa with a thread of silver in its midnight blue cover. The room is stunning in its simplicity, and very bright even in winter.

For there has been no snow in London, whereas Derbyshire was cloaked in pure white when they left, and the country they passed through was covered in a dusting of snow, London is freezing cold but in a drab grey, with overcast skies and regular rain. Elizabeth does realise that with its number of inhabitants, snow in London would stay pure only very shortly, the soot of all the fires and the constant tread of countless people would turn the beautiful cover into grey muck within a few hours anyway.

Her contemplations are interrupted by the maid offering to take her coat, the beautiful long coat Mrs Reynolds advised her to have made, and the entrance of a handsome young man, supposedly Mr Fielding. He is not as tall as Fitzwilliam, and rather slender, his light brown hair curly and quite long, and he is dressed immaculately, though with a certain artistic flair, in a very elegant black velvet coat, midnight blue, tight trousers, a white shirt with just a touch of lace at the throat and polished black shoes. He is very handsome, and clearly very fond of Georgiana for he greets her with affection, not indelicately though, Elizabeth cannot even imagine this handsome artist being impolite or indecorous, he is merely very glad to see her.

'Miss Georgiana, it's so good to see you again! I'm so sorry I insisted on a lesson today, I had forgotten your brother was to return from his honeymoon. I hope I didn't get you in trouble?'

Georgiana is obviously glad to see him as well, but she does not avert her eyes, or blush to be received with such enthusiasm. She faces her teacher frankly and replies: 'There was no problem, Mr Fielding, he had business at home anyway. I've brought my sister today, may I introduce you to Mrs Elizabeth Darcy?'

Just before Mr Fielding greets her, she can see a fleeting look of disappointment cross his face, what can be the cause of that? Was it something Georgiana said? Did he hope to meet Fitzwilliam? Better greet him first, then contemplate while they study.

Bowing to her, then kissing her hand, Mr Fielding shows he has excellent formal manners. 'Pleased to meet you, Mrs Darcy, Miss Georgiana has told me you play the piano, too?'

That is very funny, and Elizabeth doesn't check her laugh as she replies: 'Pleased to meet you too, Mr Fielding, if I were to react slowly to Mrs Darcy please forgive me, it's been a mere three weeks since I changed my name, it still needs some time to really settle in. Miss Georgiana has been very kind to me to call what I do to a piano playing. Compared to her skills I'm merely banging the keys.'

But to Mr Fielding the piano is clearly not subject for humour, for he replies deadly serious: 'It is all a matter of practise, Mrs Darcy. I admit Miss Georgiana has more than the usual talent for music, but she once started at the very beginning, and so did I. Please don't let Miss Darcy's accomplishment keep you from developing your own skills on the instrument. I suspect she has a certain aptitude for instruction, maybe she can help you along sometimes.'

Georgiana clearly agrees with Mr Fielding's opinion, and says: 'I'd love to help, Elizabeth, will you please let me? I want to play quatre mains again, and sing duets.'

Apparently the idea of Georgiana singing duets appeals to Mr Fielding, but he is a true teacher, and he doesn't spend any more time chatting, he wants to get to work and invites Georgiana to sit down on the broad stool in front of the piano by patting its seat. At first she walks towards the piano obediently, then she stops and begs: 'Will you play for my sister first, let her hear what I am aiming for? Please, Eric?'

Mr Fielding's expression softens completely at her use of his first name. Elizabeth suspects he isn't very keen to perform in his pupil's time, but he cannot resist Georgiana's heartfelt plea and sits down himself. Georgiana stands by the piano looking on, and it is as if Mr Fielding secretly dedicates his piece to her. Then he starts to play.

And Elizabeth needs to sit down from the sheer force of his performance. Imagine how she thought Georgiana had little left to learn, was nearly there, a mere ten bars of Mr Fielding's playing show her that Georgiana has years to go yet, and plenty to learn from this talented musician.

Mr Fielding's music captures Elizabeth's soul and takes it along with him on a journey to... to where? It isn't England, that's certain, this music is much wilder than England, not just the cultivated parts, but also the uninhabited bits of the country, the moors, the dales. This is music of craggy mountains, and of rough people, primitive but with deep feeling.

All too soon the music dies away, but the feeling remains. Georgiana is in rapture, she now looks as if she is indeed smitten, her cheeks blushing, her gaze directed at her teacher in complete adulation. Strangely enough, this seems to pain him, but Elizabeth did think she saw some signs of admiration in him as well. Well, maybe she imagined them, whatever his feelings, he is entirely proper in his conduct towards Georgiana, and as Elizabeth observes: 'Mr Fielding, that was the best music I ever heard, it took me to a different country I'm sure, but I've never been beyond Derbyshire. There were mountains there, and wild, emotional people. How did you do that? How can you put so much feeling in music?'

That pleases the young man very much, but he does get up and offer the stool to his pupil. Then he says: 'Mrs Darcy, we've never met before, and still you heard a piece of me in my music. For I wrote that when I lived in Prague, I studied there with a master for a year, and conducted some business for my patron. This is his town-house, I come from humble roots.

Prague is a very civilised city, but my teacher and I explored the whole country and the mountains and their rugged inhabitants inspired me to write that. I'd love to tell you about them some time, I'm amazed you heard my experiences in my music. Thank you.'

And with that, he starts the lesson, and Elizabeth takes up her needlework. She knows she looks totally concentrated on her work, but she can keep an eye on her sister as well as place her stitches correctly, for the process of Mr Fielding's teaching is very interesting, and the way they relate to each other even more so.

Every time he touches Georgiana, to improve her posture, or to let her feel a certain difference in force, he is affected. But she isn't. Only hearing him play brought on a flush, she is not interested at all in his masculinity, she admires him for his talent and his expertise, she is eager to learn what he has to teach.

Hearing the lesson doesn't bore Elizabeth, Mr Fielding pays such attention to minute details, matters Elizabeth wouldn't have believed could make difference in the way the music sounds, if she had not heard him play just now. It clearly does matter, for when Georgiana finally manages to get it right, the difference is profound. The sound of the short sequence is so much fuller, this man must be an incredible teacher as well as a magnificent performer.

Two hours fly by, and when Mr Fielding says: 'That's it for today, Miss Georgiana, if you practise this exactly as you performed it just now, we can start on the next subject, in a week?'

'Can we make it four days?' the girl asks, 'I feel like I'm always starting to get sloppy after four days, I seem to need someone to point out my mistakes to me with some regularity.'

Mr Fielding smiles, he has a ravishing smile, and observes: 'We all need someone to point out our mistakes. Unfortunately there comes a stage in one's career that virtually no-one hears them anymore, and that is when developing further becomes really hard. I'm struggling with such a moment myself, unfortunately a master who does still hear my weaknesses and can correct them, gets better pay playing for audiences.

But you're very close to hearing mine, Miss Georgiana, and I suppose you have an ear for music too, Mrs Darcy, even though your performance may lag behind. They're two different things, hearing and performing.'

As they ready themselves to leave, Mr Fielding asks: 'Would it be possible to have a word in private, Mrs Darcy?'

Elizabeth is surprised, but readily assents, and Mr Fielding continues: 'We can use the waiting-room, Georgiana, can you amuse yourself with the piano for another, say, ten minutes?'

With a 'No problem, Mr Fielding,' Georgiana is soon sitting again and playing something totally different from what she has been taught today. 'So many ambitious players don't know when to end an exercise,' Mr Fielding observes, 'Miss Darcy understands that she may enjoy her success until practise tomorrow. That way she stays motived through the most difficult and frustrating processes.'

By now they have reached the waiting-room, a small room but as light and as uncluttered as the room with the instrument, except that there is a small table with some magazines on it. Mr Fielding does have a rich patron, they look like periodicals, and there are quite a few of them, Elizabeth couldn't afford those when she was still living at home with her parents.

A bit nervous now, Mr Fielding invites Elizabeth to sit down and sits down himself. He is slightly flushed, and blurts out: 'Mrs Darcy, you are a keen observer, you were busy enough with your needle-work but I'm certain you saw enough of what was going on during our lesson.'

With a laugh, Elizabeth observes: 'Are you going to banish me to the waiting-room next time I accompany Georgiana? She told me you were very strict in avoiding distractions.'

Even more nervous now, the young man says: 'I wouldn't dare to presume to send Mrs Darcy anywhere, ma'am. And your presence didn't disturb Miss Georgiana's practise at all, I don't think she noticed you were watching, you're very subtle, and if she did, she didn't mind. That's not what I wanted to talk to you about.'

Elizabeth feels a bit sorry for him, he's really lost for words, so she gives him the time to find them.

When he does find them, they flow rapidly: 'Mrs Darcy, I think you have noticed that I have a certain affection for your sister. I assure you she doesn't feel the same about me, she may have shown some admiration, but that is only because I am the best pianist she has ever heard, she wants to become as good as I am and she will do anything to reach that goal. She has no interest in men at all, yet, she just wants my knowledge, as it should be.

I know she is just sixteen, and way above me, please believe me when I say I'm just totally overwhelmed by her talent and her determination. I will not act on my feelings, I will get over them and soon, I promise. I admire her talent as she admires mine, except I'm old enough to fall in love, but it will pass. Please do not take her away from me, I want to teach her very much, one so rarely finds such a talent.'

Elizabeth cannot help but be affected by his plea, being surrounded by Fitzwilliam's intense love all day, being so very much in love herself, she can so understand how admiration can turn into love very easily, wasn't that how her love for Fitzwilliam started, her finding out what an admirable man he actually was?

She tells Mr Fielding: 'I did notice you seemed struck by her, yes. And I noticed she didn't seem to admire you except when you played, and at that moment I admired you nearly as much. I didn't see anything to cause me worry, Mr Fielding, but I have been Miss Darcy's sister for three weeks. Mr Darcy is Miss Georgiana's brother, but they differ so much in age he sometimes feels more like a father to her, I cannot guarantee that he will be as trusting.'

Let him sweat a little. Elizabeth doesn't think Fitzwilliam would deprive her sister of a teacher who has such a way of helping her to improve her playing, but the fact is, she doesn't know him well enough to be sure. Georgiana is his sister, and there are the thirty thousand pounds and the thing with Wickham. How did that wretch get her to assent to an elopement anyway? Georgiana is not interested in Mr Fielding as a man at all.

'I'm glad you do realise that your affection is not returned, Mr Fielding, and I hope lack of nourishment will starve it within a reasonable amount of time. I hope you won't suffer for it. Georgiana is still so very young and eager to explore the world, I hope she will not fall in love for some time yet, not until she has gained a lot of self-confidence. And I firmly believe you are helping her gain that, so you have my support to remain her teacher. I really appreciate your honesty, Mr Fielding.'

'Thank you, Mrs Darcy, I really don't expect you to stand up to your husband for me, I just wanted to be truthful.'

And with that, their conversation is at an end, and Mr Fielding rings the bell for their coats. He walks them to the door and says his goodbyes gracefully and very appropriately.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 23

Georgiana hails another cab, and as they drive towards home she says: 'You won't tell Fitzwilliam he's in love with me, will you? You know he said I could marry a pianist, but since I'm not even in love with Eric I would rather not test the truth of that statement. I feel a bit sorry for Eric, though I suppose it's the same feeling I have when he plays, only since he's older it's more serious.

If he sticks it out until I'm eighteen I may take Fitzwilliam up on his promise, Eric's so beautiful, and so talented. Ánd nice, I think I could love him, if I can love anyone. That music he wrote, can you believe how good that was?'

Of course Georgiana knows, and knows Elizabeth knows. Again, she's way more subtle than anyone realises. 'I agree that it's better not to test your brother until you are serious about it, but I once promised him to tell him everything I had on my mind. I will try to keep this a secret, but I cannot promise you anything, Georgiana, I love him, and withholding something on purpose just feels wrong. I feel sorry for Mr Fielding, though, he seems very sweet.'

Since the cat is out of the bag anyway, Elizabeth asks: 'I would love to hear him play that entire piece, do you suppose he'd come and perform it for us? Your brother might help him find someone to teach him.'

'But then he'll leave London,' Georgiana nearly panics, 'and I'll be left without teacher!'

'Isn't there anyone in London then? Is he that good?'

'Vienna, or Prague, maybe some German city, maybe Paris or Rome, masters like that are very rare. It'd cost a fortune. Eric could do so much better as a composer, but he's stuck on becoming a performer in the prime venues. If he asked me, I'd tell him to perform in London to make a living, but to spend most of his time composing, not on practising for hours to get rid of one tiny mistake no-one but himself and three other people in the entire world can hear. Maybe Fitzwilliam can give him a push onto the stage, Eric'd find out soon enough that's not what he wants from life. Eric was made to compose.

Do you think he could control himself before Fitzwilliam? My brother is very observant, and he's so very much in love himself, don't you think he'd notice immediately?'

Elizabeth has to admit: 'I do, he'd know the moment Mr Fielding crossed the doorway. And I seriously don't know whether I could convince him there is no harm in continuing your lessons. We've only really known each other for maybe two months, Georgiana, before that we just exchanged politenesses, nothing more. You may know Mr Fielding better already than I knew Fitzwilliam when I accepted his offer. It was his love for me and Mrs Reynolds' testimony that convinced me we would be an excellent match.'

'His love for you is rather endearing, and he did suffer so much under your rejection and ill-opinion, though he knew it was his own fault. If Eric were to become so unhappy I might fall in love with him to stop his pain. That sounds like a bad reason to fall in love, but you just told me it worked for you.'

'Mr Fielding will not be so unhappy, for he knows his love is the result of admiration for your talent, and he will be able to bring that talent to bloom. And you like him, admire his talent, accept his affection as far as you can. How can he become unhappy spending time with you? He realises you're young and above his station, he promised to fight his inclination.

I just worry about Fitzwilliam, I don't like to keep things from him, but I don't want to risk him getting angry when I tell him, either. Have you ever seen him in a rage?'

'I haven't,' Georgiana replies, 'he was icy cold to Wickham. You know, I still don't understand how I could believe myself in love with Wickham, Eric is clearly in love with me and I think of him as nothing more than a teacher and possibly a friend.'

Elizabeth replies: 'I think you did love Wickham, as a brother, but since he was not your brother you might have mistaken that feeling for romantic love. I shudder to think what might have happened to you, Georgiana.'

'I didn't realise then, fortunately. I didn't warn Fitzwilliam out of fear, you know, I did it because I loved him more than I did Wickham, and was afraid to lose him. Was he very angry yesterday?'

'He was, Janine said some very offensive things, strangely enough he only became angry when she insulted me, though she accused him of some vile things. He wasn't in a rage though, he merely rubbed it in that he had spent six months chasing me and worshipped me, he said that literally, and that she'd better respect me or be very, very sorry. Didn't he do that to Miss Bingley as well? Except for the 'I'm important I can break you' threat?'

'He did, he merely said, very calmly, that you were one of the most beautiful women of his acquaintance. But it was the way in which he said it, his words were infused with his love for you, Miss Bingley was crushed. I don't think I'll ever meet a man who can compare to him, I'm just spoiled for other men.'

'He is not musically talented, though. Which reminds me, did you know your brother reads amazingly well? I mean, as good as Mr Fielding composes, like you're really there?'

'No I didn't. How did you find out? And will I get to hear it?'

Elizabeth decides to give a somewhat censored version of what happened, and all Georgiana says is: 'I hope he'll let us hear it, with a decent book of course. And Elizabeth...'

Elizabeth awaits her request.

'If the time ever comes, will you give me the book? To improve my mind as well?'

Giving up any attempt to keep a straight face, Elizabeth replies, laughing: 'I will, but we'll have to talk about it as well, if you believe all that's written there you'll never stop running.'

And with that, they have arrived, and again Georgiana gets out of the cab by herself and pays the driver, Elizabeth merely following.

Their arrival does not go unnoticed, for the door is held open for them, not by a new butler, not by any other servant, but by the master of the house himself. Fitzwilliam lets them in with a broad smile and as soon as the door is closed, he takes Elizabeth in his arms and lifts her to his chest, clutching her to him.

'I missed you, my dearest, I was very busy but still I felt an emptiness by my side where you should have been.'

Her face is covered in kisses, and her neck nuzzled and kissed, until he decides he has to act decently again and he puts her back on the ground. He does hold on to a hand, though. 'I'm not letting you go all day. Shall we check on Daisy? She arrived this morning, just after you left. We'll let her settle in today and you can try her tomorrow.'

Looking at her eagerly, his expression immediately changes to concern as he says: 'Never mind love, I'll stay with you of course, I won't ride myself, I'll walk beside you like a footman, and hold your ankle in worship.'

For yes, now the time is near that Elizabeth will have to ride in public, in thick traffic, she does get kind of unnerved. What if Daisy bolts?

Yes, or what if she grows wings and flies away? As if that solid horse would ever bolt, after having walked all the way from Pemberley to London, probably carrying Mr Hugo half the time, and he is not a small man. She will not work herself up to fear, there is nothing to be feared, Fitzwilliam will not risk her neck and his happiness.

'I'm looking forward to it, Fitzwilliam,' she says, and she does, kind of. Exploring the city is good, and on a horse is as good as on foot or in a carriage.

He's all over her again, until she says quietly: 'Fitzwilliam, you're embarrassing Georgiana. Besides, she wants a kiss, too.'

And she is right, Georgiana watches them with an expression half embarrassed, half bemused, and when both pairs of eyes are suddenly directed at her, she says cheekily, without flushing: 'Yes, Fitzwilliam, what kind of example is this for your little sister? Now I want my own admirer, to kiss indecently in front of my family. Or maybe I'll settle for a chaste kiss from you for now. But just this once.'

She embraces her brother lovingly, and gets her chaste kisses, and she observes: 'Oh Fitzwilliam, you're making it very hard for me to ever find a suitable husband. How can anyone ever measure up to my image of you as a man, as a lover, and as a father? How will I ever be able to settle for less? For there cannot be two men like you in England.'

'I'm not worried, Georgiana,' he replies with a grin, 'he needn't be half as rich, for you're rich yourself.' Then more seriously: 'Just make sure he loves you as much as I love you, and as I love Elizabeth.'

She leans against her brother and lets herself be hugged once more. Elizabeth cannot but find it a good thing that Georgiana can witness how much her brother and his wife love each other. It will give her a good example, make sure she will not settle for less. There must be plenty of deserving men in the city, though Georgiana does need one with at least an appreciation for music. And anyway, she's just sixteen!

It is much more difficult to find time for intimacies now their honeymoon is over, so much needs to be done and arranged. It has been just impossible to have a moment to themselves by day, so when they finally retire to their bedroom, they are both very ready for some loving. Despite their heat they manage to take plenty of time to caress every inch of the other's body, Darcy actually needs to restrain himself as he did the first times they were intimate.

Who could guess that making love so often was actually keeping him mellow and, well, patient might be the best word. He's impatient now, his urges are pushing him to be active, to go further more quickly, but he adamantly refuses, there are two people involved in this and they will both be totally sated afterwards.

Building up their excitement slowly, stroking ever more intimate places, kissing, tasting, it's so pleasant and so enticing, that they continue to stimulate each other with their tongues and hands until Elizabeth is gasping in ecstasy after several shuddering climaxes, and he himself is very close to his own release.

A bit surprised to have overcome his need to take his pleasure and instead let it be brought to him, he remembers to warn his beloved that his climax is imminent and to remove himself from her mouth. Not feeling guilty at all to spill his seed outside his lover's body, they clear it away quickly then lie on the bed together, feeling very fulfilled and pleased to finally be alone together, and free of desire.

This is the time to talk things over, of course he has brought Elizabeth up to speed about what they have decided in the morning, of Simon and Mrs Annesley taking to each other so well, and Mrs Annesley having such a talent for ciphering and finances, that they have decided that she will stay in their service after all to keep the accounts and manage the household affairs in general, living with her own family and coming to work three days a week.

Simon will see to the daily running of the household and assist Miss Darcy and Mrs Darcy whenever they need his expertise, as well as fulfil a butler's duties when Mrs Annesley is not in the house.

But now Darcy wants to know how Elizabeth's morning was, and he asks her to tell him about it. She describes how Georgiana hailed a cab and gave the directions, and Darcy is very proud of his sister, so self-reliant, she has grown up so quickly.

Then she tells him: 'Mr Fielding is a very handsome man, with excellent manners and incredibly well-dressed. Georgiana asked him to play for us and Fitzwilliam, he was so good I just couldn't believe it. Have you heard him play?'

'I haven't had the fortune, no. When we visited him he listened to Georgiana, he didn't offer to play for us. Do you think we can convince him to come over some evening, to play for us? Or do you think he won't like to play in a small setting, since he's planning to become a famous performer?'

Elizabeth replies: 'I don't think he feels above giving a private concert, no. He played a piece he wrote himself, and I would so love to hear the rest of that.'

But there is some doubt in her, Darcy can see it as if she has told him about it. There is something she doesn't want to tell him, something she thinks will upset him. But she promised to tell him if anything ever bothered her, she promised not to be afraid to share anything with him.

Concerning herself, what if this concerns Georgiana? That would make it entirely different. 'I can see something bothers you my dearest, won't you just tell me? I've never been angry at you, have I? I had a reason to be mad at Janine and Theo, you won't hold that against me, will you?'

That is clearly too much for Elizabeth, and she says: 'Of course not, you didn't scare me by getting mad at them, actually, I thought you remained pretty calm throughout. And I know you love me, but we've only been together for a few weeks, and Georgiana is your sister and your ward. You may have totally different ideas about raising her than I have, you know I grew up in total freedom, too much freedom actually.'

All right, what's with Georgiana, why doesn't Elizabeth just tell him and let him decide how bad whatever happened is? She seems to be seriously considering not to tell him why they might rather not invite Mr Fielding over.

'Don't look at me like that, Fitzwilliam,' she says, 'I know I promised to tell you everything, but this is not mine to tell, not really. Georgiana is my sister now, and if she tells me something in private, I cannot share it with you.'

Georgie must be in love with the teacher, he promised her she could, and he will not go back on his promise, but she's so young, the man may be taking advantage of her. 'Is she in love with him? I know I promised her she could marry a pianist, but I didn't mean she should fall in love with the first one she encountered, she's just sixteen! She may still meet a gentleman she really likes.'

'Fitzwilliam,' Elizabeth now breaks his train of thought, 'she's not in love with him. She just admires his talent, and he is a very good and patient teacher.

But he is thoroughly infatuated with your sister, and she is afraid that if you find out you will forbid her lessons.'

That silences him quite readily, and she continues.

'She isn't interested in him as a man, just as a teacher and a very talented composer. Actually, she told me she isn't interested in men at all, yet. She admires him a lot, and with good reason for he is a superb player and a gifted composer as well.

But his admiration for her talent has made him fall in love with her, he admitted it to me and told me in private he knows she is above him, knows she is not interested in men yet, and he assured me he will conquer his infatuation if only he may please stay her teacher.'

Still trying to refrain from forming an opinion until he has heard everything, Darcy stays perfectly still except for his hand, which gently explores his beloved's soft white skin and smooth curves.

An inquiring look from Elizabeth questions his silence, and he observes: 'There is more, I can see it, so please continue.'

His beloved nods and adds: 'Georgiana knows, she told me in the cab that if he's not over it by the time she's eighteen she may test your promise that she can marry a pianist, he is talented, handsome and kind, she thinks he might make a good husband. And she said that if he becomes as unhappy with an unrequited love as you were, she's going to fall in love with him to make him happy. Though being lovesick might make his music even better, I bet she didn't think of that.'

That is just so much like Elizabeth, to think of something like that when trying to convince him that nothing unsuitable is going on between Georgie and her teacher.

'But if he were to perform here, you would certainly notice his admiration of your sister, and they are both afraid you'd forbid the lessons. She wants to become as good as he is, and convince him to compose rather than spend all his energy on becoming a stage-pianist.

He wants to develop her natural gift, and hopes she will in time learn enough to improve his playing by pointing out the tiny mistakes even he makes. He should be taking lessons from other masters, but at his level it is expensive and difficult to find someone, Georgiana says they can be found in Vienna and Prague and maybe in Paris, not in England.'

'So if I offer to set him up with a foreign master he'll leave my sister to further his career?'

Darcy makes his voice sound dry.

'He probably would, but it would break her heart to lose her teacher, and according to your sister the world would gain a fabulous performer but lose an even better composer.'

'What do you think?'

Why does it surprise Elizabeth that he would ask her opinion? He first flaunted all he held dear to propose to her, then spent months in a state of acute dejection and changed his whole life for her without having the slightest hope to even see her again. Why would he not want to hear her opinion? How can she still think he would decide anything truly important without consulting her first?

'I think we should trust him and let your sister have her lessons. He is handsome, he is talented, he is sensitive and he admires your sister for her talent and her resolution, not for her breeding and her thirty thousand pounds. And he may even get over his infatuation before she falls for him. But then he may not, she is an admirable young woman. Separating them now may harm his talent and make her love for him bloom. But of course I'm a hopeless romantic.'

'Do you think she will fall in love with him?' Darcy asks his beloved.

'She very well might, he has everything she wants in a man, except that she doesn't want a man yet. She wants to learn to play the piano better than anyone, and he can help her do that. I don't know, I think so, I guess. And I can't even blame her, I fell for a man who loved me, and I truly never considered your fortune. When I started to realise you were a human being with true feelings, your love became valuable to me, and I started to see our characters would be a great match. I never even desired to marry a rich or important man, I just wanted someone whom I could live with.'

'And have I lived up to your expectations so far?' Darcy has always dared ask pertinent questions, and now is no exception.

She looks at him with a soft expression, runs her hand through his hair, her movement sending a whiff of her feminine scent his way. As he relishes it, she then strokes his cheek, rather rough with stubble for he needs a shave. Still, she seems to enjoy it. Catching his eye, he can see her studying his face, until, still touching his rough jaw, she kisses him with a passion that sends a shiver through him despite having just made love. In her eyes he can see the answer to his question before she speaks: 'You have exceeded every expectation I ever had of being loved. The only image I formed of love was of the spiritual part, you know, talking things over, experiencing books and music together, being in company together. It makes me very happy just to be with you, to share everything with you, to see how much you love me and feel the same love for you inside myself, that part is everything I imagined and more.

But I had no idea there was a physical side to love as well, you have awakened something I didn't know was in me. And that something makes me feel incredible, especially when we make love, but also on other moments, when I feel your arms around me, or when you look at me in a certain way. Yes, that way, exactly as you look now. It makes me feel safe and wanted, and want to kiss you, and touch you, feel your touch on me, smell you. I love it.'

'Elizabeth, my love, how do you manage to put things like that into plain English?' Her words make his heart swell, she loves him as much as he loves her, and it makes him so blissfully happy. As usual, the thing he expresses, the main reason he fell hopelessly in love with her in the first place, is his admiration for the way her mind works. But though he doesn't express the depth of his love for her this time, she must be able to read it in his very being, he is love on moments like these. How could she not feel that?

And she does: 'It's just telling you what I feel, Fitzwilliam, the moment I feel it. It doesn't feel special to me. Well, what I feel for you is special of course, but the way I put it into words isn't special to me. You're looking at me like that again, I find it hard to breathe suddenly. Will you kiss me again?'

Of course he will, how could he not? Is it wrong to love a person so?

After a few more kisses they remember they were talking about Georgiana and the master who is supposed to teach her how to perfect her playing, and Darcy can only suggest: 'What if I accompany her next time? That is not extraordinary, is it? She's my sister after all. And I'll invite Mr Fielding to come and play his entire work for us.'

'He'll be very nervous that he is found out, but I suppose he'll get over it if you haven't called him out after half an hour. I really like him, I trust him with your sister, with a chaperone of course, it wouldn't do to invite gossips. I'll miss you, though.'

'I will miss you, too. And I won't let them know you told me about his infatuation, don't worry.'

Elizabeth feels a bit bad for Georgiana and Mr Fielding, but for herself she is relieved she will not have to keep a secret from the man she has come to love so much. And even if Fitzwilliam doesn't want to continue the lessons for fear of his sister falling in love with a commoner, Elizabeth may still be able to convince him to let Georgiana have her lessons.

With that comforting thought she falls asleep against the warm shape of her loving husband, forgetting any apprehension she might have over Fitzwilliam chaperoning Georgiana during her piano-lesson, or riding Daisy through town tomorrow on a lady's saddle.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 24

The next three days are still very busy, reviewing references, interviewing applicants for the positions of one maid in residence, and two temporary maids. They have decided to hire a butler after all, but only when the family is in London, when they are at Pemberley, Simon will receive callers, of course they will be mostly have business with him or with Mrs Annesley anyway, when the family is not present.

To Elizabeth it is weird to be so close to a servant, somehow Simon is so ingratiating it is hard to keep a distance, and on top of that he is teaching both ladies of the house a lot about life in London, something Elizabeth especially feels a need for. And reading up on fashionable manners just doesn't do, somehow Simon knows exactly how to explain or even show them what response is fitting to which situation.

Fitzwilliam doesn't seem to mind at all to see them laughing and joking with his employee, of course Simon is more like a tutor now than a servant, and he is always respectful to all of them, including Mrs Annesley, who does in fact not outrank him, but who is of course old enough to be his mother, and earns all their respect with her quick thinking and organised mind. She seems very happy to go home to her family every night, and even Georgiana enjoys her company now it is no longer forced on her.

The first time Elizabeth rides through the streets of the big city she is less afraid than she expected to be, sitting on Daisy's back has become so familiar, and Elizabeth can feel no tension at all in the mare, not even with carriages overtaking them, carts rattling across the cobbles, and people shouting and making all kinds of other noises. Fitzwilliam is right next to her as he promised, but faithful, solid Daisy has no problem at all even in the thick of London traffic, and the next day Fitzwilliam can accompany her on horseback instead of on foot.

They start exploring in ever larger circles around the house, staying out until they get too cold, for on the second morning after their arrival they do wake up to a white world. As Elizabeth feared, the snow indeed gets trampled to freezing mud after a few hours, but in the parks they explore on horseback the snow is still pristine, and Elizabeth is reminded of Hertfordshire in winter, causing her to feel a short stab of homesickness for the first time in weeks. But another week will see her back in Hertfordshire for her sister's wedding, a guest at Netherfield instead of at Longbourn, but Fitzwilliam will probably not mind her walking over to her parents' house pretty often.

Elizabeth is actually glad that Simon will be coming with them, he has already taught her a lot of the city manners she can use to keep Miss Bingley in her place, and Fitzwilliam's idea of having Simon seduce the maids to head off any gossip seems an excellent one, and potentially a lot of fun, though of course Mrs Darcy should not condone such goings on among the staff.

As Daisy carries her through the snow-covered parks in London, Elizabeth is starting to think that riding is actually not such a bad thing, they can cover a lot more ground this way. If they were able to ride in Hertfordshire they wouldn't have to spend half as much time with Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst, those two don't ride, but Jane and Mr Bingley do.

Struck by an idea, she calls out: 'Fitzwilliam!'

He is riding in front of her, on his sensitive black horse, ever since Peter's lessons it has become Fitzwilliam's favourite, because it reacts to even the slightest movement in his posture, forcing him to ride very precisely and subtly, a challenge riding hasn't had for him for a long time. He turns the black in a large circle and ends up riding next to her. 'Did you call for me, love?'

'I did,' is her answer, 'I don't exactly remember how far Hertfordshire was from here. Would it be possible to ride there? On horseback? Instead of taking the carriage?'

'Why would you want to ride through this cold weather, my love?'

She smiles, for she is not cold at all, thanks to Mrs Reynolds' excellent advice to have this lovely short coat made. Well, and some countrified woollen underwear under her riding dress, and a pair of very sturdy lambskin lined riding boots she bought at a store Fitzwilliam's family apparently has frequented for at least half a century. Elizabeth still finds it strange to buy hunting gear in the middle of the capital, but she cannot deny these boots are the best she has ever owned, and having tried them on a ramble she knows they are not only suited to riding, but to walking as well. They're not exactly the height of fashion, but perfect for their visit to the country.

That arrogant thought makes her smile, and Fitzwilliam softens completely at the sight of her happiness. He exclaims: 'You like riding! You want to ride over just for the fun of it!'

'And to have a horse there, love. I've never been all over Hertfordshire except on foot. Jane and Bingley ride, too.'

'And Miss Bingley doesn't,' he nods, 'don't worry about her, love, you've won. She will not treat you without respect again.'

'I'm not worried,' Elizabeth replies, 'your Simon has taught me some very effective city manners in three days, and I'm sure he can teach me many more in another week. Miss Bingley won't recognise either me or Georgiana. We've both become fashionable.'

That causes Fitzwilliam to exclaim: 'What about Georgiana? If we ride out, she will have to stay behind with Miss Bingley.'

He is right, of course, their sister will not like that.

'Do they have a piano that can measure up to her standards?' Elizabeth asks.

'Bingley has a fine instrument, yes, you're right, she'll put in at least two hours of practise a day, and very likely more. We can ride during that time.'

That reminds Elizabeth of another possible problem: 'She'll miss her piano lessons when we're at Netherfield, Fitzwilliam.'

'I suppose that cannot be helped, unless we take her to London once or twice. It's not that far and the roads are excellent. Too bad Hugo has taken the thoroughbreds to Pemberley, with the slow team it will take a few hours longer.'

But he doesn't look sorry at all, he seems rather pleased with the idea of riding to Netherfield, which he soon confirms: 'Anyway, to answer your question, yes, I'd love to go on horseback! It's the only disadvantage of being married that I could think of, having to travel by carriage. I much prefer to ride. Do you suppose everyone will slight, censure and despise us if we let Georgiana travel with Simon as chaperone?'

'They will once he starts seducing all the maids at Netherfield,' Elizabeth observes, smiling at his use of his aunt's threat.

Looking shocked at his own blunder, Fitzwilliam exclaims: 'I forgot all about that. He really needs to do that to prevent any gossip of Janine's from sticking. Do you suppose Mrs Annesley will agree to accompany her once more?'

'Why don't we ride along with the carriage, love, and keep an eye on your sister ourselves. You and Bob always call the city team lead-footed, I suppose even Daisy and I can keep up with those. By the way, I'm glad you kept my carriage for our own use and sent the heavy carriage back, it's so opulent, I'm not used to being a rich man's wife yet.'

'I actually prefer yours as well, it's so much more refined with the different woods and the superb craftsmanship instead of gilded ornaments. It just never occurred to me I could buy an elegant carriage, or I would have done it much sooner.'

By now they have reached a nice smooth field, covered in snow but that need not be a problem, their horses are not shod, and Fitzwilliam proposes a canter. The fresh horses soon change the canter to a gallop, and they race across the field, not at top-speed because of the snow, but exhilarating nonetheless. As they slow their horses and ride on side by side, Fitzwilliam looks at Elizabeth in that certain way again.

Reminding herself to breathe, she looks back at him sincerely, certain he will tell her what the look is for. And he does: 'You look ravishing, Elizabeth, in that riding dress with your new coat over it. I'd prefer to have you ride astride all the time, but you're so beautiful sitting there, your hair dark against the snow, and so brave to go so fast on a sidesaddle. I don't think I'd dare ride one, and you propose riding to Netherfield on it. You make me so incredibly happy.'

She reaches for his hand, had she been sitting astride she would have kissed him, but this is as far as she dares to go with just the saddle to keep her balanced. He takes her hand in his much large one with tenderness and kisses it deferentially, why does he do that, her strong and respected husband? Why does he have these moods in which he is almost humble towards her? As his wife, she is completely in his power, does he show her such respect to prove he doesn't see her as his property?

Something has moved Fitzwilliam greatly, for he releases her hand and dismounts, and with his arm through the black's rein he approaches Elizabeth and embraces her legs, then holds out his arms to her. Surprised and affected she releases her right leg and slides down the saddle into his arms. He catches her perfectly, of course, and buries his face in the furry collar of her coat, nuzzling her bare throat underneath that, causing her to shiver with feeling, but also with a tiny draft of freezing air his movement allows to enter her coat.

Holding him tightly she strokes his hair, it feels cold, and her breath makes little white puffs in the frigid air, but Elizabeth feels very warm inside, the cold of the draft now replaced with Fitzwilliam's warm breath in her neck, his nuzzling changing to passionate kissing, higher and higher up her throat, until he reaches her face and then her lips. As his lips touch hers, there is no way he can control himself, and neither can Elizabeth, and they kiss very indecently right there, standing in the snow-covered grassland on the edge of town.

As they stand in the snow, Darcy is really overcome by his feelings. Of course kissing his beloved causes his heat to flare up, but it's not very insistent, they have made love just this morning, and as things have quieted down considerably since the staff is complete once more, Pierre's continuing travels have gotten their due attention again in the afternoons.

No, it's not the passion that makes this moment so special, racing across that snowy field, seeing Elizabeth following him looking so incredibly beautiful and animated. It's how he realised once more that he was so right to fall in love with her and do everything he could to win her affection. Hasn't their marriage so far exceeded his wildest expectation of happiness? They have shared everything, their love for books, his sports, her long rambles, their worries and his domestic problem. She was there for him when he needed her, and now she is willing, even eager, to make another great sacrifice, exchange the comfort of her beautiful little carriage for the exertion of a very long ride.

His fondest wishes, all come true. Every heartbreak he suffered over her, every waking night of soul-searching, was worth this incredible reward, the smartest, most beautiful woman in the world loving him, admiring him, challenging him. He wants to throw himself at her feet, beg her to love him forever, but he can feel something nudging him in the back, and kneeling in the snow is never a good idea. Better see what the black horse wants, he can worship his magnificent beloved any time he wants.

When he looks up from their embrace, Elizabeth smiles at him and gives him one more kiss on his cheek. Of course Darcy cannot but smile back, he won her, she is his forever, and he is entirely hers. But the black horse is getting bored, he is nudging Darcy in the back, and he is tall and very strong.

'I forgot all about Daisy, Fitzwilliam!' Elizabeth suddenly exclaims, and she quickly turns around to look for her own mare. Of course Daisy has not strayed far, she is trying to find some grass under the snow, and succeeding rather well. That is why the black was nudging him, he wants to graze, too. Dare he release him for a few moments? Better hold on to him, the black is not as placid as Daisy, and a spooked horse on the loose in a city can cause a lot of damage.

'Next time we ride out we should bring a rope to allow the horses some room to graze while we kiss.' Elizabeth has retrieved Daisy by now, and she suggests: 'Let's go home, I want to touch you without all these clothes on you. Will you give me a boost up?'

Which he does, and which they do, riding back and leaving the horses to Bob to retreat to their bedroom for an hour of intimacy just before lunch.

When the next morning at breakfast Darcy asks his sister: 'May I accompany you to your lesson today, Georgiana?' he can see her blanch just the tiniest bit. She is really afraid to have him discover Mr Fielding's crush and forbid further lessons. And to be honest, part of him wants to protect her from the life she might have if she married a commoner, but another part of him objects that she is just sixteen and not interested in the man at all, except professionally. So he adds: 'Things have quieted down considerably, and I finally have some inner peace to show an interest in your greatest passion. I'm sorry I didn't earlier, I was so restless I would certainly have distracted you with my fidgeting, making a very bad impression on Mr Fielding.'

Of course Georgiana cannot resist him when he talks like that, she loves him like no-one else and when he shows himself fallible she just melts. 'Never mind, Fitzwilliam,' she replies, 'I understand. You're very busy, and two hours of repeating several bars of music just isn't something everyone takes in stride. I wouldn't hold it against you if you didn't accompany me at all, but I'll be happy to have you along.

But won't you miss your beloved Elizabeth when you're away from her for two hours, maybe even three?'

She has even started to tease him recently, a miracle which he is sure he has Elizabeth to thank for. At first Georgiana seemed a bit shocked to hear her sister making fun of her brother openly, but of course she could see he truly appreciated it. And with her newly-found self-confidence she has started to emulate her sister, showing a ready wit not only at the expense of him, but everyone else present, including herself.

'I will, and I hope she will miss me as much, but then Elizabeth wants me to ask Mr Fielding to come over one evening and play the concerto she heard the fragment from. So I guess she'll bear with my absence, she'll probably lose herself in our library anyway. Or take a long ramble through the city with Simon, to practise being fashionable for the coming wedding. Poor Simon's soles are wearing thin because Elizabeth wants him to show her examples of everything he tells her, though I suppose they visit coffee-houses, too, to spy on the fashionable crowd.

Do you suppose that'll give rise to gossip once Simon starts seducing maids left and right at Netherfield?'

Georgiana helps herself to another piece of excellent toast, and as she liberally spreads it with butter and marmalade she observes: 'Yes, Fitzwilliam, what was that all about? Why would Simon seduce maids? He doesn't even seem to like girls, though I cannot imagine why not for they certainly like him. At least two of the hired maids are making doe eyes at him and without even realising it themselves, while he does recognise their looks but consistently ignores them. I suppose he doesn't find it seemly, but why plan to do it at Netherfield then? And why did you suggest it to him? He didn't seem to want to.'

So there is something Georgiana doesn't know yet, she's actually sixteen in some respect. Good. But will Darcy tell her?

'I advised Simon to seduce some maids at Netherfield to head off rumours Janine or Theo might spread about him, Georgiana. Rumours concerning his not liking girls. I'm surprised you didn't think of it yet.'

That is a challenge to Georgie, and she says: 'Don't tell me, I'm going to work it out myself. But not now, or Mr Fielding will be angry with me for being distracted. Now I'm going to eat this piece of toast and put on my coat. Better go take leave of your beloved, I suppose she's still with Mrs Annesley doing the rounds of the house trying to decide where the centrepiece you commissioned will catch the most attention. Don't hesitate to kiss in front of Mrs Annesley, she actually enjoys seeing people in love, it inspires her, she once told me. I kind of like her now she's no longer watching and critiquing my every move.'

Darcy does as his sister suggests, curious how Mr Fielding will react to his sudden appearance, but loath to leave his beloved nonetheless. He finds her in the dining-room, again one of the most opulent rooms in the house, why does he always leave redecorating the dining-rooms to the last?

Seeing Elizabeth he promptly forgets everything else, and he kisses her not quite chastely, but not exactly intimately either. 'I'm off with Georgiana, love,' he says. Elizabeth is a bit worried, that is very obvious, but she smiles sweetly and observes: 'Ask him to play for you, you'll know instantly why he's worth every penny you pay him. I'll miss you.'

'I'll miss you, too, but I'll be back before you know it.'

Georgiana doesn't wait for him to hail a cab but does the honours herself, and once inside she is rather quiet, is she reviewing her lessons in her mind? It must be a difficult subject then, for lately she has been quite chatty when they are together. Darcy expected her to question him about what he'd heard from Elizabeth, or to tell him about the coming lesson, but Georgie seems totally self-involved. Though more talkative lately than he has ever been, under the influence of his beloved, Darcy still doesn't mind keeping his silence, and the ten minute drive is spent without so much as ten sentences being exchanged between brother and sister. That doesn't mean that something is brewing, not at all, they are merely in their own world for a few moments, Georgie preparing for her lesson, Darcy watching London pass by from the windows of the cab.

Of course Georgiana does allow him to pay the driver, and soon they are on their way inside the elegant house, following the maid into the very bright, friendly room where Georgie played for Mr Fielding the day they were looking for a master for his sister.

Mr Fielding comes in and starts visibly at beholding his pupil's much older brother accompanying her, but he recovers admirably and says: 'Mr Darcy, such an honour to receive you in my benefactor's house once more.' He is as polite in his greeting of Georgiana, and there is not a single token of admiration in either of the young people before him. If Elizabeth hadn't told him he would not have had a clue this man was infatuated with his sister, and frankly, if Georgie hadn't confirmed it to Elizabeth, he would have thought Elizabeth had imagined Mr Fielding being in love.

He certainly is a very good-looking man, Mr Fielding, very artistic in his bearing and very well-dressed. Darcy decides to wear low shoes more often himself, he may even want to attend Bingley's wedding in them. With a beautiful woman on his arm he can hardly trample inside on boots, Elizabeth will want to dance a lot, and she'll expect him to stand up with her unmarried sisters as well, and a man looks better dancing with elegant shoes. Besides, with such a beautiful, slim lady on his arm he should at least try to be elegant enough to be her escort. Boots are for the country and for riding, not for charming rooms like these.

Both Georgie and Mr Fielding are very business-like and start the lesson straight away, Darcy retreating to the sofa and watching their interaction with interest. This must be a very difficult subject indeed, for neither of them has the slightest inclination to be distracted by his presence, they are clearly working really hard and to good effect, for what Georgie plays is surpassingly beautiful.

As she plays, Darcy can see Mr Fielding's expression soften, but to nothing but pride. Georgie is doing well, and her teacher is proud of her progress. When she is done he praises her, almost incredulously, and observes: 'Miss Darcy, you have exceeded my wildest hopes for today. That was really difficult matter, you really struggled with it last time, and now you play it perfectly. I can hardly believe my ears!'

His sister beams under his approval, but again, who can fault her, she has done well and gets praised for it, somehow Darcy suspects Mr Fielding is rather hard to please, and this is extraordinary praise from him.

'Please keep practising this, we'll review it for the coming lessons until it has become ingrained, and even then you will have to keep paying attention to these changes all the time, for they will get sloppy again. I have to remind myself still, it never becomes routine, though it does get easier.

But now, we can start on a different subject...'

Darcy is already getting bored, fortunately Elizabeth admonished him to bring a book, and he opens it quietly, not to disturb the lesson.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 25

Soon, the music fades to the background as the content of the book captures his attention, and for half an hour he is very pleasantly engaged, totally involved in his reading. It is actually not a bad thing to have nothing to do besides reading, after a very busy week he feels a total calm come over him as he enjoys the contemporary poetry he chose to take with him. He still doesn't read novels very often, though Elizabeth recommended some he did like, and he expected to find a serious subject less suitable reading matter with the piano lesson distracting him.

Looking up after half an hour of concentrated reading he finds nothing has changed around the piano: Georgie is still sitting on the broad stool and playing the same few bars over and over again, with Mr Fielding standing over it listening attentively and commenting on her execution. To Darcy it sounds very tiring, to change such minute details in a piece of music that already sounds perfect, but Elizabeth told him she could hear the difference after Georgiana managed to implement all Mr Fielding's tricks of the trade, so he guesses there must be a use to all this nitpicking.

Remembering himself standing over Elizabeth as she was playing, reliving the admiration he felt for her at that particular instance, it occurs to him that he hasn't seen Elizabeth play the piano even once since their marriage. Somehow, that doesn't seem fair, Georgie has learned so much from Elizabeth, she has become so much more self-assured and so witty from having an excellent example, and Elizabeth has just given up on her playing, knowing she'll never reach Georgie's proficiency. But she also knows her needle-work will never match Mrs Annesley's, and still that doesn't keep her from spending entire evenings on some piece of embroidery. He makes a mental note to ask her about it, somehow her playing is just as pleasant to listen to as Georgiana's, simpler, but with plenty of feeling, and a totally different taste in music that suits Darcy perfectly.

His sister and her teacher are just teacher and pupil, there is not a single sign of attachment visible in Mr Fielding, and though Darcy knows Georgie and Elizabeth are not making things up, he decides to take the situation at face value and let his sister have the lessons she so desires.

And Elizabeth will be pleased to have her private concert, if Mr Fielding is prepared to play for them in their family-circle. Maybe there is something more Darcy can do for the young man, though apparently he already has a patron, and it will not be seemly to interfere in that.

It seems the lesson is already done after one and a half hours, for Georgie puts away the pages with the music she is currently studying. Now she makes room on the stool beside her, and Mr Fielding sits very close to her. He puts a few different sheets of music on the stand, looks straight at Darcy, and says: 'Mr Darcy, we've finished our lesson for today, and Miss Georgiana has requested we play together, and she wants me to demonstrate my skills as well so you can hear what she is aiming for. Please enjoy!'

And they launch in a very gay piece meant to be played by two people on one piano, very diverting, and very well-performed. Georgie's concentration is lessened just a bit, and she is clearly enjoying herself hugely, and Mr Fielding is certainly not disdainful of what must be child's play to him. He is playing his part, refraining from comments or even showing that he hears mistakes in Georgie's performance. So he can just enjoy music, too, he is not always ambitious.

The virtuoso piece ends, Mr Fielding skips a few pages, and now they play a very mellow, flowing song, quite literally, for Mr Fielding joins the piano singing. He has a magnificent voice, such a talented young man, and after the first verse Georgie's sweet voice joins his in the refrain. This is quality music, and Darcy truly enjoys himself listening.

When that song is ended, Georgiana sits next to him on the sofa, and Mr Fielding removes all the sheet music and settles in the middle of the stool. Immediately after that he starts to play, and though not in possession of a natural ear for music Darcy can hear why Elizabeth was so overwhelmed by this man's performance. This is superb, as his beloved said, hearing him play makes one realise how much Georgie still has to learn.

Georgie is totally overcome by what she hears, exactly as Elizabeth described, cheeks blushing, face set in rapture, this is what she is striving for, and Darcy cannot fault her for feeling admiration for someone who has such a talent.

All too soon Mr Fielding finishes and looks at his guest, smiling. 'That was superb, Mr Fielding,' Darcy says, 'I understand now what Mrs Darcy told me about your immense talent, you truly are very gifted.'

'Thank you, Mr Darcy,' the young man observes, 'I'm glad you appreciate my music. I wrote it myself, and your sister keeps pushing me to write more, which I must admit I am inclined to do, are in a way forced to do by something inside me, as a player I generally rule the music, but sometimes the music takes over, it just presents itself and sings inside me until I write it down. Then when my mind is quiet once more, I play back what I wrote down and arrange it according to the general rules of music, try to perfect it so to speak. It happens very naturally.'

Darcy replies: 'I certainly agree with my sister that your music seems a valuable addition to the music I have heard. But of course she is the expert in the family.'

Isn't that interesting, Mr Fielding doesn't seem eager to take credit for his own magnificent creations, he makes it sound as if they are brought to him by some higher power, which may of course feel that way to the artist in a creative spell. Isn't that where the ancient Greeks got their muses from?

'Mr Fielding,' Darcy asks, and he can see a tiny bit of apprehension in the beautiful, well-dressed young man, 'will you please honour us with a private performance of your music? You have made such an impression on my beloved wife, that she has begged me to ask you to perform the piece you played to her in its entirety in our family-circle. You will of course be sufficiently compensated for your time.'

That was not what Mr Fielding was expecting him to say, and he doesn't seem unwilling to accede to Elizabeth's request.

'I'm honoured you would ask, Mr Darcy,' he replies, 'and I would love to play my entire creation for Mrs Darcy, she has a natural ear for music, and she greatly enjoyed my playing. And I have to admit that I would love to try Miss Georgiana's instrument, she has told me its maker and I suspect it is a very superior piano. So yes, please, I would love to play for you.'

'Will you be available in two days' time? We leave for a Hertfordshire next week and will probably stay there for at least a week and a half. My best friend is getting married you see.'

'Congratulations, Mr Darcy,' Mr Fielding says, 'and so soon after your own wedding, what a happy circumstance. I suppose Miss Darcy will miss out on her lessons in that time? Hertfordshire is about a day's drive away from the city, isn't it?'

Georgiana clearly doesn't like that idea at all, and seeing that, Mr Fielding adds: 'I can give you a lot of homework, Miss Georgiana, and if you bring your sister to your last lesson before you go there, I can point out your pit-falls to Mrs Darcy and she can correct you when you practise. I suppose there will be an instrument at your friend's house.

'A very good one,' Darcy replies, 'but we can drive you over once or twice, Georgie. It's about half a day's drive, actually, but that may be the difference between a private carriage and post. My fast team could make it in four hours.'

'Bingley's piano may be a very fine instrument,' Georgie complains, 'but it's always slightly out of tune. His sisters usually play it and they cannot seem to hear the difference. But I suppose the wedding will be fun, and if you're willing to drive me over for lessons I'll put up with an out-of-tune piano lightly.'

'I'm sorry we have so few days before you leave, Miss Georgiana,' her teacher says, 'for I can teach you how to tune a piano, but not in a quarter of an hour, and we do need time for your lesson or you will not have anything to practise at your friend's house. Tuning is not difficult to do, if you have perfect pitch it is merely a trick to be repeated a lot of times, a very time-consuming job. But I for one think it is a very useful skill to have for a pianist, even one of noble descent, for one can never be certain when a properly skilled tuner can be employed. Also, it is a special treat to play a piano that one has tuned oneself, there is a special connection somehow.'

Darcy now sees his sister look at him, and she asks bluntly: 'May I take an extra lesson this week, Fitzwilliam, to learn how to tune a piano? I need that skill, that lovely instrument you bought me for my sitting room at Pemberley was not perfectly tuned either, I supposed it was difficult to get a good tuner over there, and I didn't want to appear snobbish to let you have one over from London. No-one but myself and maybe Elizabeth would ever hear. If I can do it myself I'll never be dependent on others again to have a perfectly tuned piano. Please?'

He never heard anything amiss with that instrument, but it is certainly a waste of resources to get her the best piano money can buy then use it badly tuned, no matter how few people can actually hear that.

'I'm totally fine with it, Georgie, it's part of your education after all, but I suppose you'd better take Elizabeth to that particular lesson, she can at least hear what all the fuss is about. I'd just hear the same tone played over and over and get bored to death.'

This causes Mr Fielding to smile and he interjects: 'If it is all right with you, Mr Darcy, your wife could attend as well, she seems to have the hearing required to learn. The ladies could then help each other out the first few times.' Then he seems to picture something in his mind, and doubts: 'Unless you find it unseemly for your lady to crawl under a piano that is.'

That young genius clearly doesn't know Elizabeth, if he thinks Darcy would ever dare judge what is seemly for his spirited beloved. 'Mrs Darcy is her own person, Mr Fielding, very much so. If she wants to learn how to tune a piano, she will. I'll leave it up to the three of you to decide who crawls under the piano and who doesn't. It's not as if the ladies are going to tune pianos in a stranger's house.'

Mr Fielding seems to find that quite funny, for he smiles again, and proceeds to make an appointment with Georgie for her next lesson, and for her tuning lesson. And they indeed settle for a private concert the day after tomorrow, Darcy inviting Mr Fielding to dine with them first. The young man accepts, and seems reasonably pleased to be dining with his pupil's family, so much so that Darcy against starts to doubt that he has unseemly feelings for her.

Satisfied with the morning's accomplishments, they take leave of Mr Fielding and leave, Georgiana hailing a cab once again, and apparently some strain has been taken away from his sister, for she is positively chatty again.

'I'm looking forward to learning how to tune a piano, Fitzwilliam, imagine a piano that is always in perfect tune, that must be like heaven!'

'I'll be glad never to witness your growing irritation anymore when a tuner is late, or slow.'

'Or when the one in Derbyshire hasn't managed to get my instrument in perfect tune, yet again, one would say he would have learned by now.'

'You managed to hide that pretty well, I never had a clue you weren't satisfied. You should have said something.'

'After you gave me a gift fit for a princess? Nice sister I would have been! Besides, what would have been the use? He's never hit the mark even once, he clearly doesn't have the hearing required.

Do you think Elizabeth will mind coming along?'

No, Georgie,' her brother replies, 'I think she will be thrilled. Has she ever played since arriving in town?'

'Now you mention it, no. I suppose that's my fault, for being so good at it. I'm so sorry, I never meant to take a pleasure from her, that is very selfish of me, I only thought of myself, I never offered her a turn at the piano. I cannot seem to stop once I'm sitting behind my piano.'

'You cannot hide behind a piano forever, Georgie,' Darcy gently admonishes his sister, 'you know you will be expected to dance with a lot of different gentlemen at Bingley's wedding. Better get Elizabeth to play again so you and me can put in some practise dancing.'

'Will I be expected to dance with George Wickham, Fitzwilliam?'

Shocked to the core, Darcy has to admit he hasn't even realised his nemesis will be at his best friend's wedding, no sooner had he witnessed the union of Wickham and Miss Lydia, or he had totally forgotten about both the young people, though they were hopefully to become his sister and brother. The fact that Wickham is actually his brother-in-law has been very easy to forget with the thoughtless couple at least two counties away from them and Lydia being a very negligent correspondent to her second eldest sister. Or maybe Elizabeth has been writing her but didn't tell Darcy about it, to spare his feelings no doubt.

'Oh my poor brother, you totally forgot. Well, I'm not sorry to remind you of something you put yourself through immense trouble arranging, it's time we both face the fact that Wickham will be there, chatting up everyone, making himself liked among those who will still fall for it. You seem to be more put out than I am, Fitzwilliam, and you aren't even at risk of being asked to dance with him.'

And Darcy is indeed totally shaken up by the idea of being in public with George Wickham. Though privately he feels a great triumph at having married the worthless bugger off to the most insipid piece of womanhood Darcy knows, Wickham will no doubt see it as his own great triumph, having squeezed at least ten thousand pounds out of Darcy, and being related to him by marriage.

Darcy is so distraught with the idea of having to face Wickham in the one place where Darcy has the big disadvantage, a large group of people most of whom he doesn't know or doesn't like, he cannot even speak for a minute or so.

A kiss on his cheek snaps him out off it, and Georgiana's sweet voice: 'Never mind, Fitzwilliam, when all's said and done you have won, you know. He may be your brother-in-law, and you may have given him a lot of money, but he's still broke all the time and has to work for a living, whereas you are one of the richest men in England. But most importantly, Fitzwilliam, you will be entering the ballroom with the woman you both wanted on your arm. Never forget that, you won, and not on fortune, but on character.'

She's done it again, his little sister, pick out the most important fact. He did get the woman he wanted, and Wickham gave her up for mere money. Elizabeth would have married for love, and if Wickham had been worth her affection she would have lived the life he could have offered to give her. George Wickham had the advantage, a huge advantage, but in the end Darcy won, on merits as his sister points out.

'I guess Wickham may very well ask you to dance with him, just to make both of us very uncomfortable, he has no shame so he won't feel it. Of course you can hide behind the piano all the time to avoid him, but I really want you to enjoy yourself. Refusing him is an option, but again he would feel pleasure at disconcerting you.

Dear Georgie, I have no answer for you here, I'm even stuck with what to do myself, I cannot ignore him, that much is obvious. Let's beg Elizabeth for help, she will think of something, and if we include Simon, they'll come up with a way to turn any attempt from Wickham to embarrass us around to disconcert him instead. We can hide behind Elizabeth, she'll save us from Wickham, she'll rout him horse, foot and artillery. I'm totally comfortable once more, and you can be, too.'

And incredibly, he is, he's not pretending to spare his sister, Darcy really knows Elizabeth will find a solution to this problem, with or without Simon's help.

By now they are back home, and Darcy pays the driver. Walking back to the house he says: 'Thank you, Georgie, for thinking of Wickham. If you hadn't, I might have forgotten about him until he was right before me, and I seriously don't know what I would have done then.'

'Leave things to your wife, undoubtedly,' she replies cheekily, 'and why not? That is what a marriage is supposed to be, isn't it? A merging of two people to a whole that is stronger than both components separately?'

'Georgie, I love you, you know that, don't you?'

'I do, dear brother, but I'm glad you've taken to telling me every so often, somehow that makes your love even more valuable.'

Darcy feels a strong need to hug his sister, and he does it right there on the pavement in front of their house. Georgiana leans into his embrace with relish, and Darcy reminds himself he needs to save some tokens of affection for her, just because he's married doesn't mean Georgie can suddenly do without intimacy. So far, he's the only one who can give it to her, and he will be more attentive from now on.

But when they get into the house, Elizabeth immediately belies his last thought by embracing Georgiana even before she greets him. 'Something happened, I hope nothing bad?' she asks her sister outright.

Looking down on her brother's wife, she is quite a bit taller than Elizabeth, Georgie admits: 'We discussed George Wickham being at your sister and Bingley's wedding. I suppose it disturbed me more than I thought.'

Darcy can no longer wait for his greeting, and he kisses Elizabeth with Georgie still in her arms, but Elizabeth seems distracted somehow. She observes: 'You know, I had totally forgotten about that, but Jane has indeed written me to warn he will be there. I'm sorry, towards both of you. He's absolutely nothing to me, I wondered why Jane mentioned it so pointedly, seems like she was a bit more attentive than I was. I'd be ashamed of myself if it wasn't so much like Jane to think of others before herself.'

She laughs as she sees both her husband and her sister looking at her in wonder, what does she mean to say with that remark? It totally makes no sense!

'Living with Jane all my life I've never had to think of others or feel bad for them, she always did that for me. I went through life wholly unconcerned, just thinking of myself, being reminded of other people's feelings by Jane whenever it could not be avoided.'

As the tension is broken by this droll remark, and Georgie even manages a smile at her sister's audacity, Elizabeth adds, more seriously: 'I didn't feel for you at all after spurning your affections, Fitzwilliam. Though in my defence I may add I did feel ashamed to have treated you unfairly, and to have nursed prejudices against you. But still I didn't feel sorry for the hurt and disappointment I caused you.'

Darcy needs to have her in his arms now, and fortunately Georgiana feels that and makes way for him. His voice is low and feeling as he nuzzles Elizabeth's neck then says: 'I don't wonder, Elizabeth. The things I said, the way I behaved, I'm sure nobody would have expected me to be much affected but by anger. I did not show any sign of being capable of even feeling pain. Though I assure you I did feel it, it made me physically ill, very peculiar. I can still remember the sensation.'

But the memory cannot get hold of him with Elizabeth holding him tightly, giving him little kisses to prove she now knows he's capable of feelings. 'I'm so sorry, Fitzwilliam, to have hurt you so badly. And all this time you were a totally different man than I thought.'

They've had that discussion before, Elizabeth convinced he was merely reticent, and his bad manners were the result of an unacknowledged love, but Darcy knowing better, part of his suffering was wholly deserved, and to have Elizabeth in his arms, here and now, and whenever and wherever he might want to, totally makes up for whatever he may have suffered.

'You'll help us, won't you Elizabeth?' Georgiana doesn't hesitate to break the introspective mood, this must bother her more than she admits.

'Help you with what, Georgiana?' Elizabeth doesn't quite understand the trouble they will have facing Wickham, with his superior people-skills against their respectability.

'George Wickham of course! What if he asks me to dance?'


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 26

Now she understands, very cute to see it finally dawn on her, Jane apparently reminded her but Elizabeth just doesn't see a problem in the situation. She wouldn't, she can handle Wickham any day, she'd give him a perky retort and watch him slink off to lick his wounds. But Georgie and himself just aren't made that way.

'I'm sorry once more,' Elizabeth addresses first Georgie, then himself, 'I didn't think Fitzwilliam would have any trouble facing him, ignoring him worked just fine in the past, didn't it, love? And you must have spent hours with him, arranging his marriage? How did that go about, you had to speak to him then.'

That is true, but that was different, there were no other people, and Wickham was clearly the scoundrel, even Mrs Younge had been disgusted with his behaviour. But most people in Hertfordshire still believe what Elizabeth once believed, that Darcy ruined George Wickham just for the fun of it.

'You've seen me in company in Hertfordshire, Elizabeth. I handled Wickham easily enough when we were by ourselves, I had a mission and I was going to bring it to a successful end, no room for niceties. But a wedding is all about social graces, and heaven knows I'm not liberally endowed with those, especially not with people who have such a dislike against me, whereas Wickham has nothing but social graces, especially among the good people of Hertfordshire.'

He even manages to say 'good people' without sounding sarcastic.

'If that is your problem, Fitzwilliam,' Elizabeth says with great conviction, 'rest assured that your marriage to a local girl will have softened most of the neighbouring families towards you, as well as your friend's marriage to my sister. And don't forget that Bingley is still at Netherfield, making friends with everyone for miles around, as his friend and my husband you will be more than welcome. Besides, Wickham left a lot of debts behind, and do you for a moment have the illusion that one of the neighbouring families doesn't know that Wickham seduced a sixteen year old girl to elope with him and live with him in sin for several weeks? No matter how shameful that is for our family, it reflects most on Wickham, who undoubtedly still doesn't feel the shame, but don't think the Hertfordshire people will ever fall for his charms again. They will be ready to receive you as one of their own, and shun Wickham.

Of course that doesn't help Georgiana, no-one knows what happened within your family but my sister Jane, whom I couldn't help confiding in. But Georgiana, she's the most thoughtful and discrete person in the world, no-one will ever hear anything from her.'

'Never mind, Elizabeth,' Georgie observes, 'I'm kind of glad she knows, so thoughtful of her to think of me and remind you. If Miss Bingley knew, I'd be horrified. Or Mrs Wickham, and Wickham probably told her, they're married.'

'My sister Lydia lived in sin for weeks, Georgiana, until your brother forced her to marry. If he hadn't, she would have continued as she was and enjoyed it until Wickham left her, with child probably. I blush to even think of it. Think of what it would have cost us, her sisters. But the memory of living in sin doesn't cause my sister any shame, so reminding her will not bother her. Should she bug you, tactfully remind her you have a fortune of your own, that'll shut her up.

What if you should make friends with Kitty, Georgiana? If you join the young girls, you need not listen to anyone, you can just ignore the adults, dance as much as you like and never stop to talk unless you want to. Can you stand her company at all? If we promise her a few weeks in London with Maria Lukas she'll be your best friend forever and you'll not be burdened with her all the time. I'll be expected to invite her over anyway, you may as well profit by it. I wonder that she hasn't written yet, and that my father hasn't called. Though he dislikes town, he says there is too much dumb folk there, but I suspect him of feeling rustic. Not being able to look down on everyone would bother him a lot.'

'I hope you don't talk about me in such a way, Elizabeth,' Darcy cannot help commenting, though he knows she'll rub it in.

'Of course not, Fitzwilliam, I wouldn't dare. People would censure, slight and despise me.' Her cheeky face is worth millions, and she adds, 'Besides, while I had months to consider spending my life with you, no-one ever gave me a choice about my family.

Anyway, I guess I'm just happy to see them again so soon to rattle away like that, even Lydia, I wonder how being married agrees with her.'

'I suppose I would like to join the young crowd if your sister helps me, it would be strange but maybe a good experience, I've never been with girls my age. You think they'd let me?'

'Sure, Kitty and Maria are very nice girls, and they merely dance with the young men, they don't flirt. Do you expect any young bachelors of name and fortune, Fitzwilliam?'

Darcy tries to recall Bingley's acquaintance, but he doesn't come up with anyone in particular, which doesn't mean there will not be any, one never knows.

'Not off the top of my head, no. You aren't planning to marry Georgiana off, are you?' Of course that is said with a smile, for Darcy knows Elizabeth is planning no such thing.

'Certainly not, poor girls go first, they need to marry to secure their future, Georgiana need have no fears of becoming destitute, so she can wait until she actually wants to marry.'

Though Elizabeth says this in a droll way, it is clear she is deadly serious, marrying well is important to girls who are of gentle breeding but poor, like Elizabeth herself when she was still a Miss. And she's not done explaining.

'If there are eligible young men to be impressed, young, unmarried girls are less likely to welcome a richer, more accomplished girl with better connections in their midst. But I suppose Kitty is not that conniving, and Maria certainly isn't, she's singularly sweet. Do you remember her from Hunsford, Fitzwilliam?'

'You mean Mrs Collins' younger sister? I cannot say I got to know her, but I suppose that is your whole point, she's sweet and inconspicuous. I have nothing improper to accuse her of, she seemed perfectly polite and unassuming.'

'Let's still take this up with Simon,' Darcy finally offers, 'maybe he has some improvements. I know where I stand now, so I'll be perfectly ready to meet George Wickham, even if he asks either of you to stand up with him. And Georgie, we'll take good care of you of course. And I suppose you'll want to be at the piano part of the night anyway, since hearing anyone else play will grate on your ears and nerves.'

They have long since arrived in the dining-room, where Elizabeth shows them several sketches Mrs Annesley has made of their ideas for a centrepiece. One sketch immediately catches Darcy's attention, and he says, 'That one, that should be present in this house as well as Pemberley, and the colours will be magnificent in embroidery. Do you really think anyone, even Mrs Annesley, can capture that with needle and thread?'

'She assures me she can. I'm glad you like it best, I did, too. What do you think, Georgiana?'

'It's grandmother, isn't it? On the horse, like the painting in the gallery. It's gorgeous, Mrs Annesley draws well, she never told me. Though I might have guessed, with her needlework so exquisite, you think she drew that from memory? I'm amazed.'

'Do you think we should have that image in this house as well, embroidered by Mrs Annesley?'

'I think it is very fitting, Fitzwilliam, and with the border made in blues and purples, I think it will fit very nicely in this room. Or were you planning to have it in another room, Elizabeth?'

'No, somehow both dining-rooms seem perfect to place these works, we've adapted the colour-scheme to the décor. She has also made some of these sketches for Pemberley, but we are to take them with us and look at them there before deciding. She must have an incredible memory of what the room looks like. We were going to keep it exactly as it is, weren't we, love?'

'If you want it as it is, it will stay that way. We'll stun viewers with our most opulent room so they will continue their travels unable to admire the landscape, having been blinded by our wealth.'

'Never mind, Fitzwilliam,' Georgiana observes, 'if I were to visit a great house, I would want to see riches, preferably old treasures, not like aunt Catherine's opulence, that's just bragging. But why keep it all hidden, it's not as if you bought all that stuff, you merely inherited it, and it has history attached to it, years and years of it. Frankly, I like the dining-room, I wouldn't like the whole house to look like that, but I agree with Elizabeth that we should keep it and even add a few riches of our own: Mrs Annesley's amazing needlework being a perfect example. It's the one thing I was never any good at.'

'Do you regret that, Georgiana?' Elizabeth asks in a friendly tone.

'Sometimes it does bother me, yes,' Georgie replies, 'for needlework is about the only activity one can busy oneself with in company without being offensive. Playing is not done unless the mood turns to music, drawing is not acceptable, reading is absolutely prohibited, but sitting and talking would be so much more endurable if my hands were occupied.'

'When did you last try?'

Laughing, Georgie replies, 'That must be years ago, I gave up even before Mrs Younge told me embroidering was for meek little housewives, offering to teach me drawing and decorating instead. Then when Mrs Annesley's work showed me Mrs Younge hadn't been altogether right, I was disheartened by the level of her skill. I knew I'd never reach those heights, and by then I had acquired quite some drawing skills.'

'Will you let me teach you? I know some decorative techniques that will sharpen your skills without looking like little girls' work. When you've mastered those we'll ask Mrs Annesley for tricks of the trade and improve together. Deal?'

'Deal. I'll be expected to behave in company more and more, so I'd better learn some respectable occupation to keep my attention to what is said. But, if you teach me needlework, I want you to let me help you start playing again, Elizabeth. Fitzwilliam says you haven't played at all since you two got married.'

'I never play the piano unless forced to, either because there is no other person available who can play and there is a need for music, or because someone asks whom I cannot refuse. No-one did, so I didn't play. Which is also the main reason why I'll never be any good as a pianist, I just don't play on my own initiative.'

'And we thought you didn't dare to play because Georgiana is so proficient at it,' Darcy observes.

Now Elizabeth laughs and admits, 'That too, of course. But Georgiana rarely plays folk music or simple tunes, and I really like those, so sooner or later I think I would have sat down and played me some.'

'Let's do so now, Elizabeth,' Georgie urges, as if she hasn't just played the piano for nearly two hours, 'I like folk music, truly, especially to sing along with. Let's just play together for half an hour, and then you can go out with my brother all afternoon.

They indeed sit down at the instrument together, and though Darcy really has some letters of business that need his attention, he cannot seem to leave the room. Having heard a real master play just this morning, and really conscious of Mr Fielding's qualities and Georgie's superior playing, he just melts whenever he hears Elizabeth play and sing.

Of course she is not a virtuoso, she even makes little mistakes here and there, but her voice is so clear and sweet, and the songs she chooses are so poignant and feeling, it really moves him to hear her play again. It has been such a long time, it was at his aunt's house in Kent, and he was so very much in love then, and so very unaware of what he was going to suffer for that love very shortly.

The memories are still so vivid, it really takes some time for him to realise that is all they are, memories. Elizabeth is his forever, he can ask her to play for him whenever he wants to. And if he were to stand close and watch her as she plays, she will look at him with love instead of what he now knows was sincere irritation, not the invitation he held it for.

As soon as the memory is dealt with and Darcy can really listen to what is going on, he notices that Georgie has asked Elizabeth to teach her one of the songs she played, but is giving her sound advice on her application at the same time, playing little bits of the song as they should be played, showing the correct fingering and posture. She is very subtle, and seriously eager to learn the song, which makes her doting brother think she must be a born teacher.

Soon both sisters play the song together, and already Elizabeth's playing sounds much firmer and more assured.

'I like this music,' Georgie says enthusiastically, 'Eric will have a cat should he hear it, but I'm going to order some sheet-music, and study it for evenings at home and for parties. I'm sure your sisters loved these songs to dance to.'

And as Darcy indignantly realises that his sister just called Mr Fielding by his first name,

Elizabeth laughs and says, 'They did, they'll probably force Mary to play them now, though her taste runs towards what you usually play. I'm afraid you'll hear plenty of it once we're in Hertfordshire.'

'I'll just have to get over it. At least the piano will be in tune.'

And his sister is planning to do something she thinks her teacher will not agree with, which is quite a miracle, she used to be so eager to please everyone. Personally, Darcy thinks Mr Fielding will not mind Georgie playing folk music at all, her teacher truly loves music, most music, not just the kind he hears in his own mind. Eric.

To test his theory, he gets up and walks towards the piano with deliberation, watching his beloved and his sister play together, and sing together. At first, Elizabeth is so caught up in the action that she doesn't even see him, but Georgie does, and despite having no clue of the past, she gives him a big wink.

When Elizabeth finally does look up and sees her husband standing there, she actually blushes and says impulsively, 'Oh Fitzwilliam, my love, you're such a handsome man, and I never even noticed. I merely thought you very impressive then, but not in a good way, I truly felt you were trying to disconcert me by looming over me.

Although, maybe the difference is just knowing you are ticklish.'

'Is he?' Georgie asks, ignoring the reminiscences going on around her all day, of situations where she wasn't even near.

'Decidedly so,' is his beloved's answer, 'I've noticed that gives a girl a real advantage when dealing with a tall and strong man. If you ever find a man impressive, just imagine him breaking down in giggles when you tickle him. I'm certain you'll find instant courage to face him.'

'As a person who did his share of roughhousing in his schooldays, let me advice you that most men are in fact totally insensitive to tickling, Georgie. Your new sister may be so fortunate as to be able to render me totally helpless with a mere touch of her finger, it only works on the most sensitive of our gender. Of course those are the most desirable specimens anyway...'

'I'll keep them in mind, both insights. I suppose Wickham is not ticklish, being the most insensitive person I know. Too bad, for I'd make me feel safer around him to know he had a weakness like that.'

'Actually, Georgie, Wickham used to be very ticklish as a boy, he may still be. He was very sensitive, his first years at school I really had to stand up for him for he cried at virtually nothing and was put upon a lot because of that. My father asked me to take care of him so I did, I was a tall, strong boy two years his senior and very fond of little George.

I suppose that changed when mother passed away, and you still so young, Georgiana, father called me into his study and asked me to take up part of my duties as his heir, to make sure the estate wouldn't be left without guidance should something happen to him as well. From that moment on my life was very busy, I spent all my spare time on learning how to run an estate, and my holidays with my father and Georgiana, and I'm afraid I may have neglected George. He started to slide towards his later behaviour more and more, but I no longer had influence over him, and when I mentioned Wickham's extravagance to my father one time when it first started to show, he merely said very fondly: 'Yes, George sure likes the little comforts of life, doesn't he? He gets that from his mother, dear Victoria, she used to enjoy life so much.'

That was all he said, and I never dared mention it again, not even when it got out of hand, he was so fond of Wickham and as indulgent towards him as if he were my younger brother. I guess I was a bit jealous, too, that all my father and I did together was work hard and mind Georgiana, when Wickham got to spend my father's leisure time with him, and I suppose I was ashamed to feel jealous. I was the heir after all, and Wickham had no inheritance to look forward to.

When father fell ill he did tell me he had made provisions for Wickham, and he made me promise to keep an a watchful eye on him. Well, you both know how that turned out. In a way I feel responsible for George Wickham's downfall, though I guess my influence on his was less than my father's, and father either didn't know, or didn't want to know the truth about his favourite.'

'It sounds like your father was even more intimate with Wickham than your letter described, Fitzwilliam,' Elizabeth observes, feeling something like concern.

Fitzwilliam replies: 'True, I related the facts as I knew them from my own experience, not the suspicions I have entertained since I was maybe twenty years old: that my father knew of at least some of George Wickham's indiscretions, and didn't disapprove of them, may have overlooked them in someone he was so fond of. I couldn't very well tell you that, I had just been woken up to the fact that I didn't know you at all, and besides, it wasn't relevant at all.

Then lately, after discovering my father's hoard of indecent books, and reading one almost from cover to cover, I've had to revise my opinion once more: what if father did know all George Wickham's failings? He knew mine, taught me principles but left me arrogant and overbearing. What if he appreciated Wickham's friendliness and accepted him being unprincipled? Offering him the chance to lead a gentleman's life, but only on the condition that he improve his style of living. Leaving him the rights to a living instead of plain money may have signified father's regret at his protégé having lost his way.'

Elizabeth cannot help one pertinent thought forcing itself to the front of her mind. Her countrified naiveté has quickly been cured by Simon's lessons in the way of the world, she is after all very smart and learns quickly, and like her father is afflicted with a keen eye for human shortcomings, seeing excesses and inconsistencies in the behaviour of her own class everywhere since having them pointed out to her by Simon. Fitzwilliam would be shocked to know how wordlywise his young bride has become, but Elizabeth cannot regret her initiation into knowledge of the true nature of the big city one bit.

What Fitzwilliam tells her cannot but give her the sneaking suspicion that his father may have been even closer to Wickham than any of them think. His father's loving way of extenuating Wickham's personal weaknesses as a kind of zest for life he inherited from his similarly gifted mother, cannot but create a suspicion in Elizabeth's quick mind that more might have been going on between the gentleman and Mrs Victoria Wickham than the acquaintance between a valued employee's wife and the master of the house.

She is not going to share this thought with her beloved of course, not without proof. No-one wants to believe their own father capable of duplicity towards their own mother, her principled beloved has had enough pain to endure from the preference of his father for a more lively young man over his legal son, leaving the latter to suffer for lack of social abilities, and the other from want of boundaries to his habit of indulging in 'life'.

She deliberately breaks the mood by saying perkily, 'Well, Mr Darcy, since you have taken the trouble to stay and admire us, we must play your favourite. My fingers await your orders.'

That will distract him from Wickham, he may be Fitzwilliam's brother by marriage, but that is as far as it goes, and her beloved has enough regrets as it is. Time to divert his thoughts to something more pleasant.

And of course it works.

'Ah, you know I cannot resist you when you call me Mr Darcy. Something lively, please, for I am going to take my beautiful sister for a spin.'

They make a lovely couple, brother and sister, both tall and slender with a very upright posture, and yet so much more vulnerable to the world than Elizabeth had ever suspected. But that is for the best, there should be some equality in a relationship, and since Fitzwilliam is providing all the worldly goods in theirs, it is for the best that Elizabeth can at least provide some protection from those who know about their weakness and seek to exploit it. Let them try, and find Elizabeth on their way, armed with intelligence, wit, and now with ever growing knowledge of the world.

Of course Georgiana doesn't claim her brother entirely, but offers to switch places after a few minutes, playing the song Elizabeth taught her just now and of course to near perfection, improvising on it, as Elizabeth clings to her tall husband's elegant shape and lets herself be led across the room until lunch is ready to be served.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 27

With everything more or less back to normal in the house, and all the servants but Simon knowing their place and sticking to their own part of the house and their jobs, they hardly get to speak to Bob anymore, so that afternoon after riding they make an effort to find out how the faithful driver and stable-hand is doing.

He is not comfortable at all at being addressed personally and doesn't manage to talk to his master and mistress very well, but he leads them to the stalls where the two solidly built horses of the slow team are munching their hay quietly. By now he can speak again, and he proudly asks, 'Can you see the difference, master?'

Fitzwilliam looks them over well, and to his credit enters both stalls to feel their inhabitants' condition as well, before he remarks, 'They're very heavily muscled, Bob, I don't think they were before, and they seem quite a bit sleeker. And of course their coats are shiny and they seem very content.'

Beaming, the plain young man confirms, 'You always were a good judge of horses, master, I've been exercising them as much as I would the fast team, the poor creatures never get to see a meadow or even a paddock so the least I can give them is enough time to really stretch their legs despite the snow. I've found a perfect lane to let them go all out, even in the snow, I bet they won't be as lead-footed as they were for being lazy buggers.'

As soon as he hears himself speak he quickly says, 'I'm sorry Mrs Darcy, that is no way to talk in front of a lady.'

'No harm done, Bob, and the horses look fine indeed. They seem to be an exact match, while I have no trouble recognising Daisy, I couldn't keep the one from the other with these two.'

'Begging your pardon, Mrs Darcy,' the stolid servant observes, 'but master Hugo would never allow anything less than a perfectly matched team in the master's stables. Well, excepting the thoroughbreds of course, they're so rare and such a new breed that it's a miracle master Hugo found four the same colouring and more or less the same size at all.'

'It took a year before he had a full team,' Fitzwilliam observes, proudly, Elizabeth notices, he does have some vanity after all, 'and then he spent half a year getting them used to pulling a carriage. I had to wait nearly two years before I could show off my lightning fast team. How long before you were allowed to drive them, Bob?'

'As long again, master,' Bob replies, 'it must have been a full two years, and very proud I was to have master Hugo and yourself put such trust in me. It was mighty difficult to please master Hugo, but I've never been sorry to bear with his teaching methods, for being your driver is the best job in the world, master.'

'There is no-one I trust more, Bob,' Fitzwilliam returns the compliment, 'I hope you'll stay my driver for as long as you can handle the strain, physically and mentally.'

Now Bob looks positively doubtful, which is strange, for Fitzwilliam has been very clear how much he trusts this insignificant looking young man. At his master's inquiring look he explains: 'I like nothing better than being your driver, master, but something has come up that might become a kind of problem.'

'You have not been imposed upon again, have you?'

'No, master, no certainly not, everyone has been very nice, maybe a bit too nice, this being a problem of a very good nature, but a possible problem nonetheless.'

Another encouraging look is needed to make him speak up.

'Well, you see, there is Fanny, one of the maids Janine hired?'

Elizabeth knows whom he is talking of, a very pretty, sweet natured girl of almost twenty who was not dismissed when they had first returned to London and found the house in the grip of dissonance and abuse of power. A hard-working, gently spoken girl and elegantly beautiful as well, not stuck-up like some of the city maids.

As Fitzwilliam nods as well, acknowledging he knows who Fanny is, Bob states, with a lot of pride colouring his voice, 'Well, Fanny and me, we've become quite attached, and I'm thinking of asking her to get engaged.'

As he tells this, Elizabeth knows her surprise must be written all over her face, so rude, but how can such a plain, insignificant man capture the attention and affection of such a pretty and undoubtedly much-admired girl?

Bob is already explaining, 'I was surprised, too, when she told me she liked me more than just as a friend, I have heard that last a lot, you see, for being so plain, 'Bob, I like you very much, but you're like a brother to me.' But not Fanny, and she meant it too, I'm sure.'

'Now it's my turn to apologise, Bob,' Elizabeth tells him frankly, 'showing my doubts that way was very rude of me. I'm very sorry, I hope I haven't hurt your feelings.'

The young man laughs ingratiatingly, actually improving his looks quite a bit, and he rushes to say, 'Oh no, Mrs Darcy, I know I'm as plain as a board, and I'm quite used to being slighted by the girls. No offence taken, I was as surprised as anyone to be noticed by such a beautiful angel. But when I told her, for I did, she became quite annoyed and said, 'Bob Jones, don't ever let me hear you talk yourself down like that ever again! You are the sweetest man I have ever met, and you have a very important job. Simon said he heard the master tell you he trusts his life, and Mrs Darcy's, and Miss Darcy's to you and that you are irreplaceable to him. And I just know you'd never hurt the woman you loved, or take her money for drinking or gambling, and you'd worship the ground she walked on.' Where do you suppose she learned to talk like that?

Anyways, she managed to convince me that looks aren't everything, and we have been talking a lot and going out in our spare time, and I suppose we're in love.'

Fitzwilliam manages to keep a straight face through Bob's whole story, and gravely says, 'Congratulations, Bob, that is a very nice girl you've managed to find yourself involved with. But I frankly don't see any problem, you are allowed a life of your own, aren't you? I know it isn't common for maids to marry, but it's not unheard of for two servants of the same household to make match, is it?'

This is hard for Bob, he is really struggling to voice his possible problem. But after a few moments he tries.

'Well you see, master, Fanny is a city girl, and I'm away at Pemberley for most of the year, so we'd hardly see each other.'

'I see, and if you stay in this household you will not be able to drive the fast team for me anymore. Well, we'll have to get Mr Hugo to rush Bruce through training then.'

Is Fitzwilliam seriously making fun of Bob? Yes, he is, but the poor fellow is still so in awe of his master that he doesn't even get it, he's very upset but he doesn't dare to protest his master's seemingly flippant reaction, and rightfully so. Making fun of people can be very entertaining, but this is not funny at all to Bob. Or is it?

Slowly, a smile spreads over Bob's face, he is kind of cute like that, and he dares to speak. 'Master, you must be making fun of me, for I know you would never put Mrs Darcy's life in the hands of someone who let your horses grow fat and placid. But I suppose that means you have already thought of a solution, for you'd never joke about anything serious.'

So much trust in a single human being, how does Fitzwilliam live up to those expectations?

'You are right of course, Bob, Bruce will need at least a year of learning how to work hard before Mr Hugo will even think about letting him ride or drive a horse. I was thinking more in the lines of taking Fanny along with us to Pemberley a few times, see if she really can't get used to the country. I'm certain Mrs Reynolds can use an extra hand when Mrs Darcy and I ask some friends over to enjoy spring with us.'

'Thank you so much, master! I didn't dare hope you'd do that for us, Fanny reckons she'll be looking for a new job come spring, I'm sure she'll be thrilled to stay in your service a little longer.'

'And we'll be happy to have both of you, Bob. I'll ask Mrs Annesley to take of the details, you just pop the question. Or wait until Mrs Annesley has made our offer to Fanny, then make your proposals. I dare not give you advice there, since I have proven not to have a talent for that kind of business.'

Elizabeth suspects Bob is a quicker thinker than he seems to be, for the plain young man's face softens, then produces a big smile as he dares observe, 'Everything seems to have worked out just fine for you, master, I sure hope I will do as well. Thank you very much for your kindness, I think I'll wait a bit before I speak, that may be the safest way to go, it's only been three weeks since we really talked the first time.'

Realising she had never really talked with Fitzwilliam before she accepted his second proposal, Elizabeth considers that in fact she may have followed Charlotte's advice without even being aware of it. She didn't really know the man she married at all, of course his attachment was serious, and had stood the test of many months' adversity, but he could have been disappointed after really getting to know her, as might she.

As they take leave of Bob and go into the house, Elizabeth rubbing Daisy's good-natured long nose one last time as they pass her stall, she asks Fitzwilliam, 'Weren't you afraid that I would be a totally different person from the woman you fell in love with? That you would be sadly disappointed? We never exchanged more than ten very polite sentences without other people present. Apparently Bob and his Fanny have already talked intimately for several evenings.'

'There were certainly times when I wished desperately for an opportunity to speak with you frankly, to tell you how much I still loved you and to beg you to give me a chance to prove to you that I was not the man you hated so much.

But I never doubted you were the only possible woman for me, not even one moment, not even when all seemed lost. Isn't that strange? I truly think I would have loved you forever, even if you had refused me again. Remember, I'm almost ten years older than you and I had never met a woman that I could imagine being married to in all my adult life.

After Hunsford I decided I would allow myself to mourn your loss for six months, and then I would choose a genteel girl and marry her for duty. But after meeting again at Pemberley I knew I couldn't ever marry someone else, and the first time we really talked proved I had been right all the time, you were exactly whom I thought you were.

But dearest Elizabeth, you know I don't need to talk to be with someone, and though we never talked much, I did spend time with you, those moments so special to me despite little being said. And despite being so nervous I could hardly have spoken even if I had wanted to.'

He has taken her in his arms by now, his feelings needing some outlet besides the words he carefully formulates.

'And you my love,' he asks, 'did you ever fear I would turn out to be a totally different person than you thought?'

'After we met at Pemberley I started to develop an appreciation for you, started to understand we would have made a great match. Being convinced that match would never happen because of Lydia's shame, my appreciation turned into regret and desire to be with you. But that was all rationally, I wasn't passionately in love. I only discovered passion with you, when I first smelled your personal scent, when I felt your solid shape beneath my hands, when we kissed.

And since I decided I wanted to be with you in full possession of my wits and was never blinded by love, I suppose I was convinced you'd be the man I thought you were. Until just after our marriage, when I had met all your connections, seen your town-house, started to realise how rich you really were. Then I was a bit afraid I'd be a disappointment to you, until you proved to me I wasn't.

But I do think it is much more sensible to talk first, get to know each other.'

They are kissing now, in the little hall connecting the stables to the house, and between kisses Fitzwilliam says frankly, 'I think I am to blame for that, for when you think of it, didn't we have plenty of time to really talk? In Hertfordshire during parties, your sister and Bingley certainly talked a lot, but also when your sister was ill at Netherfield, and when I visited you at the parsonage or walked with you in the park at Hunsford. I could have started a true conversation any time, and I would have found out what you thought of me, and might have been able to make a better impression on you. Of course I was nervous and tongue-tied, but I was also afraid to encourage you before I had decided whether I really wanted to marry you at all.

But those doubts were solely over your family and mine, not even one concerned you, even then I knew you were perfect for me.

May I take you to the bedroom? I think I want to be really close to you, closer than decency allows, even in our very own home.'

'Yes, please, love, I want to feel you, too, without all these clothes between us. Let's hurry.'

They reach the bedroom without being seen, and without stopping too often for a few more kisses or some heated fondling. When they have finally closed the door behind them, Elizabeth considers how unfair it is that she has so many layers of clothing to remove, whereas Fitzwilliam has just her riding dress and a tiny corset under her coat to take off her. Well, and her woollen underwear, which may not be the most exciting garment to find one's young wife in.

'Aren't you cold in just that one dress, Elizabeth, and the coat over it? I have so many more layers of clothing than you, and your fashionable dresses are positively flimsy, aren't you cold in the house in the middle of winter?'

'The coat is actually very warm, my love, the fur collar stops draughts, and you'll soon find I'm wearing very disenchanting woollen underwear beneath my skirts, as well as those lovely boots you convinced me to have made. I thought it ludicrous to buy hunting gear in the middle of London, but they're the best boots I ever owned.'

He smiles at her praise of her new boots, and continues, 'And in the house?'

Her beloved clearly cannot believe she is not cold without wearing a coat inside, as he does even in the heat of summer.

'I have those woollen shawls whenever I get chilly, I'm totally fine. Your staff makes great fires.'

'I just feel it's not fair that you should have so many layers to peel off me, and I get only a dress and some underwear. Anyway, I'm thinking of wearing shoes more often, what would you think of that?'

Elizabeth thinks that is a great idea, but she's not planning to talk shoes right now. She unbuttons Fitzwilliam's riding coat and drapes it over a chair, then starts on the tight coat beneath that.

By now Fitzwilliam is all over her, and he removes her coat and puts it on top of his own, no reason for all their chairs to smell of horse. As his inner coat disappears to another chair, and the top buttons of his shirt are loosened, he starts on Elizabeth's dress, but not before kissing her.

Soon they are lying wrapped in their comfortable blankets, warm and snug, but stroking and feeling, Elizabeth's senses heightened by the heat smouldering inside her. She relishes her beloved's scent, so familiar and so exciting, and explores his slim figure with the smooth skin and the little hairs in exactly the right places. His chest is pliant, but not as soft as her own, he clearly has more muscle, of course he rides nearly every day, and his spirited black horse keeps his arms in constant action.

His stomach is firmer, almost flat, her own has flattened since she has started riding regularly, so she knows how his got that way, but he is rather ticklish so she strokes it less gently than his chest or he'll double up. His sides are too sensitive to really caress with her hands, she is trying to get him used to being touched there but it takes time.

Of course Fitzwilliam is not just lying there, he is stroking her with quite some heat, he is fondling her breasts, relishing the incredibly soft flesh, licking and gently sucking her nipples, giving her the shivers and a burning sensation between her legs.

Her own hands now explore his magnificent legs, solid with packed muscle, strong and very sensitive. His nice behind needs some attention, too, and then she turns to the part that isn't ticklish at all, already eagerly awaiting any attention it might get, firm and soft at the same time.

After fondling his manhood some more, she wants to feel its smooth head with her tongue, and she crawls under the blankets and explores all of it. That pleases her beloved more than a little, but after a short time he removes himself from her mouth and says: 'That's a teeny bit too exciting, love, it'll be over way too soon if you continue. Better let me for a while.'

And he carefully spreads her legs and returns the favour until she is shuddering with release, eager now to feel him inside her, but also to have him in her arms where she can hold him. Of course her love knows exactly what she wants, and before the climax wanes, he thrusts himself into her, and his solid, warm body covers her own, his mouth kissing her greedily as he puts in quite a lot of effort.

This just never gets boring, being so connected, so intimate, and all this time the heat inside her rises until she cannot keep from crying out in ecstasy as another high washes over her. Her beloved doesn't last much longer than herself, and after climaxing with an intense shudder, he lowers himself on her to relish their intimacy just a little bit longer.

After their long ride in the cold, the comfortable warmth of their little nest under the blankets, and the release of their heat make them drowsy, and before they know it they have dropped off, still entangled.

A knock on the door wakes Elizabeth, and Simon's loud whisper follows: 'Wake up, you lovebirds, dinner's nearly ready, and if you don't come down in half an hour, Miss Darcy threatens she will fetch the both of you herself. Without knocking first.'

He really has no respect, that Simon, but this sounds as if he is literally repeating what Georgiana told him to, in which case they must forgive him. Again.

'Better come in then Simon, and make us.'

Did Fitzwilliam really say that? And here Elizabeth was blaming Simon for lacking respect, but it's her beloved who encourages him, apparently. Will Simon do what his master says, despite his mistress being in the room with him, most likely totally undressed?'

'That is not fair, Mr Darcy, how can I obey you when doing so would anger the mistress?'

'All right, all right, Simon, never mind my silly remarks, just give us a few moments to wash and dress decently. Though I do kind of miss being woken by having the blankets pulled off the bed in one tug, or by having a wet towel dumped on my face.'

No wonder Simon treats his master as a comrade, Fitzwilliam wanted him to, and though her love now looks at her as if to assure her he really prefers to wake beside her, Elizabeth decides then and there to give him a prank now and then. Can't have him aching for horseplay just because he got married, now can she?

Shivering, they wash themselves as they always do after riding, then dress for dinner, Elizabeth indeed adding a knitted shawl to her outfit for she does feel the cold now. When they are fully dressed they admire each other, kiss once more, and within twenty minutes they arrive in the dining-room where Georgiana is already waiting.

'Simon said you'd probably fallen asleep, did you really?'

Fitzwilliam looks a bit caught and observes: 'We did, we'd had a long ride in the snow, you know how sleepy being out in the cold can make you once you warm up again.'

'Simon did suggest you warmed up really thoroughly before you fell asleep. I see. Oh well, it's not as if I cannot entertain myself for a few hours, and you both look very well, taking a nap before dinner must be very healthy.'


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 28

Elizabeth is amazed how hungry she is after their afternoon's activities, and after dinner she doesn't need the shawl anymore to keep warm. As they move to the sitting-room for the evening, Fitzwilliam picks up a book from a cabinet where he has apparently left it for a moment like this, and offers, 'I thought I might read to both of you tonight. I really liked this short story when I was still a boy and had all kinds of romantic ideas about love. After years of lonely adulthood the story soured for me and I forgot all about it. But yesterday I came across it in the library, and since I believe in love once more, I now want you both to hear me read it.'

And before either of them can object or even comment, he starts reading a story of hardship and love, beautifully written and heart-rending. Pierre's story may be entertaining, and rather stimulating, but the romance in this tale has much more impact, never has Elizabeth heard her beloved read better than this, and when she manages to throw a glance towards her sister, she can see Georgiana enraptured by the story and her brother's incredible talent. She looks at him exactly as she looks at Mr Fielding, proof again that she doesn't love her teacher in a romantic way, but merely admires him for stirring her feelings.

Fitzwilliam must have been very romantic indeed to have loved this story, but Elizabeth can also imagine that after waiting to experience love like this for nearly ten years, the story must have palled for him. In a way he must be glad, in hindsight, to have had his heart broken at least once, suppose he had never been lovesick, he would not have understood what this beautiful story was all about.

Does that account for the feeling with which he reads it? It must be, Elizabeth can feel tears rolling down her cheeks as he describes Tom, the main character, leaving England after having been turned down by the woman he loves, boarding a ship bound to the Far East on impulse in his grief.

How can this story ever end well? It's a short story and China is so incredibly far away.

After Fitzwilliam relates the suffering of the hero, trying to forget his loss scrubbing decks and doing other back-breaking chores to earn his keep, strangely enough he is not upper class but a commoner, the story switches viewpoint to Rose, the girl who spurned him.

Her thoughts and feelings don't even sound weird described in a manly baritone, without changing his voice Fitzwilliam makes her totally credible. Hearing what her unwanted suitor has done, she comes to regret her decision, and decides to leave her safe home and middle-class family behind, and sail after the man she refused to even hear out when he proposed.

Of course she cannot take a job on a ship, but she sells all her valuables, and with the proceeds books passage on a transport vessel to the nearest port where Tom's ship is supposed to make a short stop.

Then suddenly, as they have nearly overtaken the trading ship, a big storm comes out of nowhere, both ships go down, the boy and the girl the sole survivors, picked up from the boiling seas by a dubitable vessel flying a flag with a skull and crossbones.

With a big smile, Fitzwilliam concludes the story, saying, 'To be continued, ladies. This was the very romantic start of a tale of two young people becoming pirates, living adventure after adventure in foreign countries, fighting exciting battles at sea and of course loving one another to bits, though very chastely. I loved it. I wasn't completely honest about the story souring for me because I didn't find my own love. I just grew up, I'm guess.'

Not giving the slightest sign of having been taken in by her older brother, Georgiana remarks breathlessly, 'That was the best reading and the best story I ever heard, Fitzwilliam. I can't wait until they reach Africa, I'm looking forward to hearing the lions roar, and the parrots and the monkeys screech. You're better than the theatre, I mean it.'

Elizabeth observes, 'I did wonder how such a short story could end well, love. I'm also looking forward to their first battle, I wonder whether those pirates will see fit to teach poor Rose how to defend herself against their opponents, and her own shipmates. Though it sure was a well-written story for an adventure.'

Pleased with their comments, Fitzwilliam remarks, 'This was the writer's debut, after this he became known for his poetry and historical novels. Though I must admit I enjoyed this story best, it's surprisingly accurate, though I wonder whether the writer's theory of pirates being very egalitarian towards women is altogether true. I'd have guessed a girl could never remain unravaged in a crew of forty hard-bitten seamen, but he writes differently, apparently with anecdotal proof from the colonies. You'll see. Still, the events, the cities, the sea-creatures, life on board ship, they are all very realistic.'

It will be great fun to spend their winter evenings sailing the seven seas with Tom and Rose, Pierre's book is almost finished, him having found his rich widow to marry and raise grandchildren with, sharing his lady's affections with any attractive ladies or gentlemen that pass by their lovely manor in search of advice on the subject of love, or to commission a painting.

This new book they will be able to read in the sitting-room, together with Georgiana, and though it will take some getting used to, for their sister it is a great advantage to have such entertainment. Elizabeth generally likes their quiet evenings at home, talking, reading or playing and listening to music, but she wants the three of them to enjoy the entertainment the city offers as well. It is obviously very easy to live in a large city and not visit any theatres or concerts at all, especially when it is snowing outside. But this spring they will all go back to the country, so if they want to enjoy city-life, they need to do it in winter.

The next day Georgiana is back at Mr Fielding's place, with Elizabeth this time, to learn how to tune a piano. She knows this will not be easy no matter what Eric says, he probably has years of experience with tuning and has forgotten how hard it can be when one is first learning. But Georgiana has mastered a lot of techniques most pianists never manage, and she knows she will learn this skill, too.

Instead of starting straight away, Eric offers them a cup of tea, which they are glad to accept, and as they enjoy a very superior brew he explains the theory and shows them the tools they are going to need.

'I've bought a starter's set for you, you can take these when we are done today and practise. Do you have a second instrument in your London house? For I suppose your main piano is too valuable to risk snapping a string.'

'We have an old instrument in storage in one of the unused rooms, I've had a moderate fire there from the moment we set a date, I hope the wood has settled enough to use that piano to practise on.'

'Great, it will be totally out of tune, a perfect way to start. If it's still drying out that's all for the better, you can tune it again the next day, until it stays true.'

The explanation seems simple enough, and to prove he is a brave man and confident of his teaching skills, Eric lets them practise on his own superior instrument. He has detuned some keys at random, to let them test their hearing. First to test the instrument is Georgiana herself.

Advised to start in the middle scales, she immediately finds a really sour key, and with Eric's help, kneeling before the instrument, she first applies two mutes to the supporting strings of that key in the only correct way. As she prepares to apply the tuning hammer as he has described it should be used, he does not warn her against using too much force, Eric is her teacher and he knows she always starts out 'piano'.

Elizabeth striking the key again and again, Georgiana compares its pitch to the tuning fork and in this case, to the keys beside it that are in perfect tune, and she finds the right pitch for this key easily. Then she removes one of the mutes and repeats the process, and yet another time until the entire key is in perfect tune once again.

Then it is Elizabeth's turn. She finds the next out of tune key perfectly, though it is a lot less obviously sour. Eric helps her place the mutes, then shows her how to apply the tuning hammer. Asking Georgiana, who is now sitting on the stool, to strike the key so she can check whether she has placed the tuning hammer on the right string, gains her a compliment from Eric: 'Great thinking, Mrs Darcy! Always check whether the tuning hammer is placed correctly, or you'll risk snapping the string.'

The tuning fork is of no further use, Elizabeth will have to rely on her hearing to tune this key, and she manages very well. The middle octave is easy, especially since most keys on Eric's piano are in perfect pitch. The higher and lower reach of the piano will get more difficult.

Georgiana understands Eric perfectly as he explains the way the other octaves should relate to the middle one, and she is amazed to hear about inharmonics, understanding instinctively that this is what the person who keeps their instruments at Pemberley in tune cannot compensate for. Eric has soured a few keys in the higher and lower range to illustrate the shift in frequencies that causes the inharmonics, and as he demonstrates, Elizabeth gets it, too. She just lacks the extensive theoretical knowledge of music that Georgiana has picked up in her years of sincere study of the instrument, she does have the hearing and the intelligence to understand.

After tuning sour keys all over Eric's piano, they cannot find anything amiss anymore, and Eric beams with pride over their accomplishment.

'But tuning an entire instrument is a different matter, for you've only tuned separate keys today. Please start on your own piano tomorrow, and try to get beyond the first octave. Then we can take some time to check your work before dinner, and I'll be able to help you along for the next octaves if you need the help. Which you probably will. But though you may have difficulty tuning an entire instrument, I think you can both correct inharmonics now, and adjust the slight sourness of your friend's instrument, so you can enjoy your stay there without losing practise time.

Let me give you this scheme as well, this is how you can remember the correct intervals for each octave. I'm sure Georgiana will not mind explaining it to you, Mrs Darcy.'

At the moment Eric calls her by her first name, Georgiana can see him cringe, what a blunder, he really needs to be more careful if he doesn't want to get caught be Fitzwilliam tomorrow night. But Elizabeth ignores Eric's mistake and says, 'Thank you very much, Mr Fielding, I'll make sure I'll heed her very well, and I really hope we'll manage to tune at least the first octave.

I'm looking forward to hearing your concerto, very much. Fitzwilliam told me you played a delightful little set together as well, with some impressive singing. Will you please let me hear that, too?'

With a very charming, even happy smile, Eric replies, 'If Miss Darcy doesn't mind, we can play those songs immediately. You have both worked so hard and done so well you deserve a little fun.'

Georgiana realises that Eric actually loves playing those simple songs together. Either he is really very much in love with her, relishing the opportunity to be close to her and sing with her, or he has a broader appreciation of music than Georgiana thought. Hopefully it is the last, for she is really still much too young to fall in love, she would hate to break Eric's heart that way.

As they sit on the stool together and Eric carefully chooses the right music sheets, she can clearly feel his body touch hers, and it does not tremble or show any other sign of excitement or nerves. He is totally relaxed, though clearly expecting to enjoy himself very much.

As he counts down from three, they start with the instrumental piece, very fast and technically difficult, but such fun to play together. Then another virtuoso piece, and Eric clearly finds this merely very entertaining. When he changes the sheets of music once more he observes, 'I've always taken music so seriously, I never knew playing could be so diverting. I bought those sheets to show you that music can be simply enjoyed, I thought you needed to learn that, but now I think you already knew, and I needed to learn. Do you ever play simple tunes like these?'

Nearly laughing out loud, Georgiana replies, 'I've just learned a new tune today, let me play it for you while you change the music.' And she plays the folk-song Elizabeth taught her that morning before lunch.

It still simple, and very catchy, and she keeps it short, because Eric is ready to go on.

'That is very catchy,' he remarks, 'and still it seems to have a kind of melancholy theme. I like it, I suppose it is very suitable to dance to as well. Very useful for a wedding. Where did you learn that?'

'Elizabeth taught it to me just this morning. She has a whole arsenal of tunes like that, and I'm going to learn them all, and set all her sisters dancing.'

'I have four sisters, Mr Fielding,' Elizabeth now observes, 'I had to play lively tunes to tire them out before I could get some peace. Miss Darcy will need those tunes to survive a week with my family. My eldest sister is the bride, you see, so they will all be there.'

Eric likes Elizabeth as well, that much is clear, as he laughs and observes, 'I know exactly what you mean, Mrs Darcy, I have three sisters myself, and a few brothers as well. But sadly, we didn't own a piano, and anyway, music wouldn't have helped to quiet the boys down.'

Now they are ready to start on the songs, and Eric plays the intro beautifully, as ever. Frankly, Georgiana cannot wait to hear his entire concerto either. As he starts singing, her heart takes a little leap, as it always does when she hears a truly superior voice. He did admit to having had some singing lessons, when she asked him whether that was all natural.

As she joins in the chorus, she can see her sister completely taken by the quality of the singing, and the emotion of the song. Good, nothing would have been worse than Fitzwilliam marrying someone who was tone-deaf or unable to enjoy music. Except, of course, marrying someone like that herself, but that is a possibility Georgiana prefers not to think about at all.

After their little show together, Eric offers to play a part of his latest work for them, and they just cannot refuse, Elizabeth is also very eager to hear it. Georgiana joins her on the sofa and Eric seems to retreat into a world of his own, then starts to play, very small and like nothing Georgiana has ever heard before.

As the music grows slowly, ever gaining depth and meaning, Georgiana just cannot seem to enjoy it, there is something about it that is not as it should be, something is not right at all. It's still very beautiful, but a little nagging aberration will not let go of her attention, spoiling the mood of the music. Looking at her sister, Georgiana can see that nothing bothers Elizabeth, she is enjoying this music without reservation, is totally enraptured by it, as she was by Eric's concerto.

Ever aware of Georgiana, Eric stops playing and asks: 'You're not enjoying the music as you usually do, Georgiana, don't you like it?'

He did it again, use her first name, Elizabeth will forgive him but Fitzwilliam may not. Still, he was totally appropriate yesterday during their lesson, maybe he knows exactly what he is doing.

'I like it, Mr Fielding, but it feels as if something is not quite right about it. It's beautiful, but somehow I get distracted from letting the music take me along with it. I can't think what it is.' Fortunately he doesn't look disappointed again at her not using his first name. They just cannot risk giving offence, these lessons are too important for Georgiana.

'Mrs Darcy,' Eric now asks Elizabeth, 'did you hear anything amiss?'

Elizabeth replies: 'I did not. It was very easy for me to let the music take me where it would, there was a certain natural flow to it that pleased me even more than your concerto, though this is friendlier, milder, and I actually preferred the wildness of your completed work.

I am absolutely thrilled, Mr Fielding, for being allowed to hear you play this, thank you so much.'

Eric smiles, but not just for being praised, there is something else going on, and he is going to explain straight away, Elizabeth has confirmed something he thought himself, he is very pleased with her comments.

'Let me tell you why I'm pleased to hear that, Mrs Darcy, Miss Darcy. I've used the two of you as guinea pigs, to test a theory I have been forming in my mind. I told you how the music rules me until I write it down, didn't I?'

Georgiana remembers, but he told her in Fitzwilliam's company, Elizabeth doesn't know yet. 'You told my brother and me, Eric, my sister wasn't there.'

'That is true, so I'll tell you, too, Mrs Darcy. The music wells up in my mind, haunting me day and night, preventing me from practising or performing, until I sit at my piano and play it and write down what I play. Once I've done that, I can still hear it but it will make way for a piece I'm studying or for rehearsals for a public appearance or a concert with an orchestra.

After a few days it subsides, and then I play what I wrote down, polishing it and making little changes to conform it to the general rules of composing music to be played on a piano. My concerto has been through this entire process and is ready to be performed in public.'

This really excites him, and when Georgiana thinks about it, it is incredible, music just taking shape in his mind, to be written down and adapted to the traditions of piano music.

'This fragment is exactly as I wrote it down, I have not adapted it to the rules of composition, it's exactly what my mind wanted me to play. The feelings that caused it to come into being are reflected in the music exactly as I felt them, still feel them.

Mrs Darcy could feel them, could feel the flow of the music as it was meant to be. But you, Georgiana, are so educated in the ways of modern music, that you could hear this piece of music not conforming to the rules that have been ground into your very being. You couldn't feel the music because it didn't sound right to you.

Knowing this, that the quite-not-right feeling it gave you has been laid upon you by mere humans, setting up rules how music should sound, would you do me the honour of listening to it once more, and see whether you can enjoy the music now? See whether your mind can dismiss the feeling of wrongness since it is not natural but a habit ingrained by traditions?'

'I'm amazed I should be influenced so strongly by tradition, Eric, I can't wait to hear it again. I want to hear what Elizabeth hears, let the music take me along and tell me what it has to convey.'

Frankly, Georgiana cannot imagine knowing the cause of the wrongness taking it away, no matter how much she wants to hear Eric's music as he felt it.

But as soon as Eric starts playing again, she notices the difference. Incredibly, the itch is totally gone, and soon she is as enraptured as Elizabeth was. This music is so small, but so powerful, it's ever growing without being obvious about it, and though Georgiana has never felt it herself before in this intensity, it is clear that this music speaks to her about love. Georgiana has felt love, she loved her father dearly, and though she hardly remembers the love she must have felt for her mother, she loves Fitzwilliam more than anything. But this music feels differently, there is an intensity in it that makes her flush even more than her usual admiration for Eric's fabulous music. This is about true passion, the burning desire for a fallible fellow human being, this is how Fitzwilliam must feel about Elizabeth, it is very strong and very intense.

And it is probably about her.

That is not a comforting thought for Georgiana, she does not want to inspire such passion in anyone, not until she is ready to feel it herself. For the first time she wonders whether it may in fact be better for both of them to stop being in each other's company until Eric has conquered his attachment.

Still, his unrequited feelings are pushing Eric to make the most beautiful music ever, for she has to admit that this is incredible, such a talent, such a shame to shackle this lovely flow of feelings by forcing it into a traditional arrangement. But if it felt wrong to Georgiana, it will feel wrong to all avid music listeners, how will Eric ever be able to break that bond with tradition?

Unable to answer her own question she lets the music take her with it, enjoying it to the full, tasting intense love for a few moments and looking forward to the time when she will experience it for herself. Part of her wants Eric to retain his feelings for her until she is ready to receive them, who knows whether she will ever be loved like this again? He certainly is a man of feeling and principle, worthy of being loved.

But Georgiana dare not believe Fitzwilliam will adhere to his promise and let his sister marry below her, and allowing herself to fall in love with Eric just to secure a man who will certainly respect her and love her for herself, and not her fortune, seems like a rather foolish thing to do. Better wait another few years and see what happens.

'I felt it this time, Eric,' she observes, hoping he will not mistake the obvious feeling in her voice as encouragement, but she supposes he will not, for Elizabeth shows her feelings, too. He should be used to that, playing for an audience at least once a week.

'Somehow my mind managed to ignore the rules it is used to, and I felt the true impact of this music. I think you should try to work with it, but most audiences will pick up the same wrongness I did. How will you solve that problem?'

'I don't know yet. I was hoping the two of you might have some bright ideas, or at least react positively enough for me to dare play it for my patron. He is very knowledgeable, but I'm afraid very traditional as well, what if he loses faith in me because of this? He appreciates my concerto, I could stay safe and adapt this to the same traditions.'

'Do you still have the original music from the concerto?' Elizabeth now asks, eagerly.

'Actually, I do,' Eric replies, 'I couldn't face throwing it out, I truly love it.'

Elizabeth observes, 'Why not do the same as you did with us, play it first, see how it lands, then tell him, play it again. If he still dislikes it, make two versions, maybe start playing the originals as encore, or to young or progressive audiences. Change things slowly.

But please do not throw these out, this is how the music offered itself to you, this is the direct translation of your feelings, and it will always be more powerful to those who can feel it. Do you feel different playing the other versions?'

'I don't know, I've never played the original again after improving it. And I haven't changed this one yet, so I cannot compare. I will play my original of the concerto this afternoon, after my rehearsal, and I'll let you know tomorrow evening. Thank you very much, Mrs Darcy, and thank you very much, Miss Georgiana. You've both been very helpful.'

Eric is now in a bit of a hurry, and rather affected, Georgiana thinks, it is quite an honour for him to entrust them with his dilemma, he feels strongly about this and decided to let them hear it first, even before his patron.

She shakes his hand warmly, it feels warm, and surprisingly strong and muscular for such a slender man, giving it a tiny extra squeeze to put some heart in him, and his smile proves she did manage to do so. Elizabeth shakes hands too, and says: 'Trust your talent, Mr Fielding, I'm sure it will take you very far indeed. I find it very exciting to think that we may have been the first people to hear a revolution in music today. People who love music are usually very sensitive, and they cannot but appreciate the qualities of your work, I just cannot imagine someone not feeling this. I'm looking forward to tomorrow, Mr Fielding, very much so.'

They part in great spirits, and on their way back they discuss Mr Fielding's new composition with great enthusiasm. 'I really think we may have witnessed a momentous occasion, Georgiana,' her sister says, 'Mr Fielding really tested his surmise on you, had you not been able to ignore the different style at your second hearing, I'm certain he would have spent the afternoon adapting that piece to the traditional rules, and something beautiful would have disappeared, maybe forever.'


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 29

'That was about me, wasn't it?'

Elizabeth takes Georgiana's hand and observes: 'It was, my dear, did you mind very much?'

'In a way I did, I feel pushed towards something I'm not ready for. How can I ignore his feelings for me when he is such a good man? He'd be certain to respect me, and to love me, I feel as if I should accept his love to secure a future for myself. I don't trust men in general, but I trust Eric. Still, I'm not ready for love, and I don't want to disappoint Fitzwilliam again, ever.

And what if spurn Eric to marry a gentleman in a few years time, and he turns out to be a worthless mercenary? I'll regret Eric forever. What should I do?'

Georgiana doesn't seem to take this very seriously, she overacts with large dramatic gestures. Then she is back to normal, and her words prove she is serious.

'I have to admit I felt special as well, he is such a great composer, and to let us be the very first people to hear this masterpiece is such a compliment. So, I suppose I'm just going to attend my lessons and see what happens. See how Eric's affection evolves, and his compositions, concentrate on my own playing, see whether I develop a need for love other than from Fitzwilliam and you. I'm so glad to have you supporting me, Elizabeth, I feel like I can tell you anything, even things I dare not tell Fitzwilliam, not until they are serious anyway.'

'Don't you worry one bit, Georgiana, I'm with you. We're not going to fight Fitzwilliam over this, but we're not going to blindly obey him either. Taking your time is the only right option, I agree with you entirely.'

Of course such sympathy gains Elizabeth a hug, and Georgiana once again is so happy that her brother married such a loving, sensible woman. Then they have arrived, and weirdly, Fitzwilliam is not waiting to receive them.

Of course the new butler opens the door before they can knock, he came very well-recommended and has shown himself very professional so far, and taking their coats he states: 'You have a guest, Mrs Darcy. He has been in the sitting-room with the master for about half an hour. Shall I have some fresh tea taken there for you?'

'Please, Johnson, thank you for your kind reception.'

Elizabeth clearly is not used to such formality, but Georgiana knows that butlers are supposed to act that way, and he's still very new. He'll loosen up to fit their household eventually. Since Mrs Annesley and Simon share the responsibilities of a housekeeper, this butler will not have the kind of power their former butler Theo had, Fitzwilliam may even have hired him temporarily only, just until spring, when they'll all move to Pemberley once more.

Georgiana doesn't want to think of their move too often, that will be the end of her lessons, for one does not drive all the way from Derbyshire to London for a piano-lesson. But maybe Elizabeth will think of a solution to that problem, too, Georgiana knows her sister will be pleased to be back in the country, and frankly Georgiana doesn't want to stay in London all by herself. Better enjoy her time here, enjoy her lessons, and let things sort themselves out.

'I'm going to check the old piano first, see how the temperature and dampness of the room are, and check how badly detuned it really is. I'll join you for tea in ten minutes.'

And off she goes, up the stairs to the room where they will hopefully try out their newly found skills for a few hours this morning or afternoon, if Elizabeth's visitor doesn't take too much time.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth is very curious who her mysterious guest may be, for in all honesty, how many people does she really know? Maybe it's Mr Gardiner, but he wouldn't just drop by, they have been over for a visit since Elizabeth's move to London but always with due notice.

But since the sitting-room is rather close, her patience is not put to the test for too long. As she enters the room, Fitzwilliam immediately gets up from his favourite chair, where he was chatting comfortably with the occupant of the adjoining chair...her father? What would her father be doing in London, days before Jane's wedding?

Fitzwilliam must have seen her expression, for he takes her in his arms as usual, and even before he kisses her he says, 'Don't worry, love, this is merely a social call from your father, nothing to fear.' Then he kisses her, slightly less than chastely, as usual.

'You're cold, better have some tea.' And as he walks to the table to pour her a cup of tea, a maid comes in with a fresh pot. Seeing the master ready to pour, she merely offers him the fresh pot and takes away the old, letting the master do the honours.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth goes to her father to greet him. He is smiling fondly, apparently he doesn't fault Fitzwilliam for kissing her like that at all, and he gets up as well to embrace her and kiss her on both cheeks.

'I've missed you so much, my dearest Lizzy, you have no idea. And with Jane moving out, I won't hear a sensible word until Christmas when we all visit.'

He hasn't changed a bit, of course, but he looks well enough, and indeed very happy to see her.

'You look better than ever, Lizzy, life in the big city must agree with you, strangely enough. I'm glad to see you both so well, and even closer than before. It's always a bit of a chance, you know, getting married, but since you're both rather sensible people I suppose I should have known you made the right choice.

Darcy has already told me how wonderful you are, and how happy you both are together, but I suppose you'll want to rave about him as well, later. Then when we've gotten that over with, I'll tell you why I came over for a visit just before we'd all meet for the wedding anyway. I suppose that must seem strange to you, and I assure you I wasn't planning to do so at all.'

'Mr Bennet, you will want to speak to your daughter by yourself for half an hour,' Fitzwilliam offers, 'and I have a sister to attend to and some letters to write. Will you excuse me?'

'Of course, Darcy, it was a pleasure catching up with you. See you later today. And don't worry about entertaining me, just leave me in your library and I'll be fine.'

As Fitzwilliam and herself both laugh at this droll, but undoubtedly true, remark, Elizabeth mentions to her beloved, 'Georgiana is in the room with the old piano, we're planning to tune it ourselves later today.' He nods, blows her a kiss and is gone.

'Now my child, tell me how you have been. Is married life what you expected? Don't be shy telling me the truth, you know I can handle it. Your lover seems to be pretty smitten still, he's told me nothing but good about you, how you spent the most fabulous two weeks in Derbyshire, fishing, shooting, riding. Riding, my dear Lizzy? You must love him a lot.

I suppose you did your share of rambling as well, and some exploring, and not just his beautiful grounds, but the bedroom as well. Though that kiss just now suggests you're both doing just fine.

Then he told me how fond his sister is of you, and how you helped him sort out a domestic dispute in this very house. Good for you my love! Now let me hear your account, please. I see you totally look the part of a fashionable city-lady, your mother and sisters won't know you again in dresses like that one.'

And Elizabeth tells him about their time at Pemberley, how she picked up riding again, and how being outdoors and active was something they both enjoyed very much.

'Well, at least you won't get fat, either of you, like Mr and Mrs Collins. Though your mother can find true satisfaction in their progressing portliness, since she has no fears anymore of being left destitute in case of my untimely demise.

I suppose she'll spend most of her time with you if that happens, of course she likes Lydia and Wickham much better, but living in a dingy apartment never was much to her liking. She'll prefer to accompany Mr and Mrs Darcy everywhere, probably with Mary in tow.'

Now he laughs heartily at his daughter, of course she must have shown some abhorrence at the very idea, though Fitzwilliam would undoubtedly buy her a nice little house near her sister in Meryton, or near her brother in London, if the very sight of Charlotte as mistress of Longbourn were too much to bear.

'Never mind, Elizabeth, just tell Jane to put her up, she won't dare refuse. Please don't mind my teasing, I've missed you, let me hear more, how's he really, your brand-new husband, he seems to love you more than anything, is that feeling mutual at all?'

And for some reason, Elizabeth finds herself telling her father all about her feelings for Fitzwilliam, her sudden reservations about entering the marriage penniless, and how her beloved took those away with his constant devotion to herself, how they talk about everything that concerns them, how they discovered passion together, how she really feels like being half of just one person.

'We're so close I haven't even missed you or Jane very much, papa. I never believed in my wildest dreams that marriage would be like this, he loves me so much, and shows it, too, tells me how much he admires me, how broken-hearted he was when he thought me lost to him. And he's so easy to love himself, so loving and sweet, and handsome too, of course. I'm very happy, papa, with Georgiana as sister as well.'

Her father, truly affected now, takes her hands and says, 'That makes me glad to hear, I was worried about you, even though I really liked your fiancé. But some people turn out completely different than they seemed, and the thought of you living with a dominant, influential man like that gave me a few sleepless nights, hoping he wouldn't grow to regret marrying below his class and above his intelligence.'

And despite being affected by her father's kind concern, of course Elizabeth cannot have her father say that of her beloved, and she defends him almost vehemently, 'Fitzwilliam is as smart as you or I, papa, don't insult his intelligence. He's a bit shy with strangers, but he can hold his own against me easily. You'll find out if you stay here.'

'All right, no need to be angry at your poor father, I'm sorry to have underestimated your dearest husband. I dare say he's the smartest of my three sons-in-law. That brings me to the purpose of my visit.

You know I have borne my own mistake in choosing my life's partner reasonably well, I suppose that proves your husband must be smarter than I, for his choice of the best possible partner, even if it meant waiting for nearly a decade and marrying a lot below him, proves him to be a very intelligent man indeed.

Things have been different, Lizzy, with you gone and Jane at Netherfield most of the time, but I managed quite well with my books and my solitary hunts.

With the marriage coming up, Lydia and Wickham arrived yesterday, and though I should have suspected it, friend Bingley may be easy-going, but not so much as to allow George Wickham to stay in his house when his best friend Mr Darcy is expected to reside there, I didn't, and your mother didn't see fit to inform me beforehand either.

So there they were, the happy couple, noisy and foolish as ever, Wickham flattering your mother and thanking her profusely for allowing them to stay at Longbourn for the duration of the marriage. Then she graciously offered him the use of my library for his privacy, and my company to spend some time shooting my birds.

Dear Lizzy, I was not going to quarrel with your mother with your sisters and Mr Wickham present, I must have lost my edge, and I accepted defeat. I had my bags packed and my horse saddled, and used that time to put away a few treasured possessions where my esteemed son-in-law wouldn't find them and instruct Hill on the finances of the household until my return. Then I put on my coat and alighted my horse. Now your mother made the scene, demanding where I was going, but I merely told her I was going to visit you in London, and buy a new pair of shoes since my current pair is not fit to wear to a wedding, then set off.

Hill will keep them out of trouble, you know I hired her because she could handle your mother from the very first day they met, and she has never disappointed me yet.

I hope your husband will not mind my hiding out with the both of you until the wedding-day, I promise I will not bother you at all, I'm pretty sure your library will keep me entertained for days, and I really need a pair of shoes for the wedding. I supposed you'd let me return to Hertfordshire with you, I can keep up with your carriage if I do my very best, I've been riding a lot recently.'

Elizabeth cannot help melting at her father's plight, Wickham in his library and on his solitary rides, and to have to admit defeat to mother, no matter how painful the realisation that he sees his marriage as a continuing war in which he has lost a battle.

'Poor papa, to have to flee your own house from George Wickham!'

Actually, Elizabeth is glad to hear that Bingley will not let him stay at Netherfield, her father can bear with Wickham more easily than Fitzwilliam and Georgiana can.

'Did you speak to Fitzwilliam about this? Does he know you mean to stay, and have you told him why you left?' Her beloved cannot possibly have expected her father to go back to Longbourn the same day.

'I did about the first, but not the second. Considering what you told me about the dealings those two had I didn't want to mention my favourite son-in-law without you present. Your husband had my things taken to a room, and offered me the use of his library without my asking. Then he raved about you until you came in. I feel almost relaxed already, can you imagine how much I've missed you, and Jane, though she still comes home at night. Kitty has some sense as long as she's not with Lydia, but not like the two of you.'

Kitty!

'Papa, have you left Kitty alone with Lydia?'

'I most certainly have not, Lizzy, I have learned from my mistakes. Kitty is staying with Jane at Netherfield, she was there for the day with Maria Lukas, they are bridesmaids you see, and I rode by and asked Bingley to put Jane and Kitty up together for a few nights. Kitty needs to stay away from Lydia and Jane prefers to stay at Netherfield. They can chaperone each other.'

They are discussing the latest news from Hertfordshire when Georgiana and Fitzwilliam enter once more. Those letters are probably still waiting, but Elizabeth supposes they were an excuse from her beloved anyway, to give her some time alone with her father.

Georgiana readily greets Mr Bennet, not very shy at all, and he asks, 'How are the piano-lessons going, Miss Georgiana?'

Both Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam are surprised, but Georgiana boldly answers, 'Very well, Mr Bennet, thank you for asking. I've mastered two very difficult techniques since you and I last talked, that's not even two months ago, and my teacher says that is very quick. He asked your daughter and me for advice on a very important composition today, we were the first people to ever hear it. Isn't that incredible?'

'I'm looking forward to hearing you play, my dear, with your brother's permission I'd like to stay a few days, until the wedding actually, one might say I've been driven from my own library by one of the wedding-guests.'

As if to redeem Elizabeth for standing up for her husband's intelligence, Fitzwilliam now blurts out, 'You mean to say that Bingley refused Mr Wickham entrance to his house and he is now staying in yours?'

To his credit, her father does acknowledge Elizabeth's victory, answering, 'You were right, Elizabeth, he's smarter than me for seeing through your mother's plot instantly. For indeed, Darcy, my wife invited my esteemed son-in-law into our own home when she heard from Mrs Wickham that they would not be invited to stay at Netherfield while you were residing there.'

'Fancy Bingley standing up for me.' Fitzwilliam is truly amazed by this, and quickly adds, 'Of course you are more than welcome to stay here, especially since it's my presence barring George Wickham from Netherfield. Will you ride along with us to the wedding then, Mr Bennet?'

'If you think I can keep up. I've seen your team, I don't know whether you'd want to wait for an old man on a middle-aged horse.'

Fitzwilliam laughs at Elizabeth's father's description of himself, he's not even fifty after all, then observes proudly: 'You mean my thoroughbreds? They're incredibly fast, but I've sent them back to Pemberley. Keeping four thoroughbreds in a city stables for an entire winter may be dangerous, I've never dared to try. I've a special team for use in the city, we call them the lead-foots, you'll keep up with them pretty easily. And Elizabeth and I are going on horseback ourselves, we've been riding every day, and she really wants to explore Hertfordshire with her faithful Daisy to ride.'

'In that case, I'll stop worrying. Except about Mr Wickham in my library.'

'A library is a man's sanctum, Mr Bennet, you are right to worry about it. But I'm sure it will be all right, I knew Mr Wickham very well at one time of my life, and he never spent much time in a library. He prefers company to solitude, and conversation to books.'

'Thank you for trying to ease my worries, Darcy. I can spare a few birds, but none of my books. Then I'll just need to find a new pair of shoes, and I can lie back and let myself be spoiled by your staff the rest of the time.'

'Do I guess correctly that your flight is preventing you from hunting birds with your son-in-law?'

'It is indeed, my dear man, Mrs Bennet wanted me to take him out shooting, like you and me did last fall.'

Now Fitzwilliam bows politely and observes, 'Maybe you will be so kind as to accompany me on a hunt then, this very week?'

'In the middle of the city?'

'Oh, yes, we have good hunting here. We city-folk call it hunting, and take it very seriously. Other people call it shopping. I know several good places in town, we're certain to find a nice pair of shoes for you there, and maybe a coffee or a pint, whichever you prefer. We'll return triumphant, and show our spoils to the ladies.

We'll take my man Bob as our driver.'

Fitzwilliam is certainly holding his own, Elizabeth did not say too much in his defence, he feels comfortable here and manages to entertain his father-in-law quite adequately.

'Now let me show you the library, and your room, and I'll introduce you to the house-staff, and we'll let our ladies attend to an old piano they are bent on tuning today. We'll meet again for lunch.

Oh, and Elizabeth?'

'Yes, my love?'

'Mrs Annesley wanted to talk to us for a few moments. On a matter of etiquette, she said. Is she planning to scold us for kissing in public? Anyway, I told her we'd receive her right after lunch, is that agreeable to you?'

'It is. Can we kiss in public just once more, if it is to be forbidden from now on?'

He doesn't answer, but takes her in his arms and kisses her with ardour. It will have to suffice until tonight, with her father in the house it is not very likely they will be able to slip away to their bedroom for an hour or so in the afternoon.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 30

The room upstairs is one Elizabeth hasn't seen before, it's at the end of the hall and clearly used as some kind of storage space. There is a mishmash of furniture and fabrics there, and some China. How much China can one household own?

'I like your father, Elizabeth,' Georgiana observes, 'he's been very nice to me the evening before you got married, and at your wedding.'

'That is more remarkable than it might seem to you, Georgiana. Most people dislike my father or fear him, because he usually isn't nice to people. He tends to find them boring or dumb, and then he can be very abrasive. He must like you a lot to be nice to you.'

'Fitzwilliam used to be a bit afraid of him, wasn't he? He held his own pretty well just now, I thought. Hunting in the city.'

'He must have been very pleased to hear that Bingley didn't allow Wickham to stay at Netherfield. I'm glad they thought of that, of course my sister may have had a hand in it as well, she wouldn't want you to run into him all the time.'

'And again I'm glad you confided in her. I would have, if I had a sister I loved so well. You must be very glad to see her again so soon.'

'I'm afraid it will not be the same, we're both married now, and we'll live three days apart for half the year. Do you think they'll come to London after the wedding?'

'Bingley usually stays at his town-house for a few months in winter, yes. It's pretty close to ours, you'll be able to meet with your sister every day. Can I join you sometimes?'

'Of course, Georgiana, we're sisters now, I'd love to visit friends with you. I guess we'll plan Kitty's visit when Jane's in town, she'll be able to go to Jane's sometimes.'

The piano seems dry enough, and they set to work, Georgiana hanging over the body of the piano, Elizabeth taking her place on the stool. Georgiana has already put the tools where they can reach them, and Elizabeth strikes the key that should sound the same as the tuning-fork.

It's not even close, and as Elizabeth plays a little melody they both burst out laughing, it's so awful.

'Let's tune the first octave, then leave it until tomorrow and if it's still in tune, try for the next octaves. Hopefully we can impress Eric. Can you hand me the muters?'

Elizabeth hands over the muters and the tuning hammer, holding on to the tuning-fork. Muters in place, Elizabeth strikes the key again, and sounds the tuning-fork. Striking the key while Georgiana is tightening the wire works really well, and Georgiana has it at perfect pitch pretty quickly. The other wires follow, and one key is tuned. Only seven to go this morning.

When they both agree that the next key is at the right pitch, they move on to the next, and the next, until one octave is in perfect tune. Then they quit, with the piano so old and the wood possibly still damp, they don't want to waste more time than necessary If it's out of tune again tomorrow, they'll tune it again and go for another octave, hoping it will stay acceptable until Mr Fielding can test it.

Lunch is very enjoyable with Mr Bennet present, Darcy cannot deny he had a bit of a shock when the butler came in and told him there was an elderly gentleman with a tired horse standing outside, asking for Mrs Darcy, but Mr Bennet soon explained he was only come to see his daughter.

His father-in-law is clearly not a very demanding visitor, once Darcy showed him his room and the library, it was quite difficult to catch his attention to introduce him to Simon and Mrs Annesley. Still, that was managed, too, and Darcy was free to write his letters of business.

And Georgiana is not at all shy towards the sarcastic gentleman, very strange and yet very encouraging. Apparently the two have struck some agreement to like each other instantly, which makes things a lot easier, not just here, but also at the coming wedding. Mr Bennet may have fled from Wickham's presence in his library, he will not hesitate to stand up for Georgiana if she is in any kind of trouble with his self-proclaimed favourite son-in-law.

After lunch Mr Bennet is back to the library, he was seriously impressed by its size and the number of books, realising this is just the tip of the iceberg compared to Pemberley. He is in for a fabulous surprise, come spring.

Georgiana is practising, her fifth or sixth hour in the company of a piano, and Elizabeth and himself are waiting at the dining-room table anxiously for Mrs Annesley to correct their behaviour in a matter of etiquette.

Actually, they are not anxious, at least, Elizabeth is not. She has never had a governess and is therefore not trained in taking them very seriously, as he is.

Mrs Annesley arrives, and seats herself on the opposite side of the table. She is not entirely at ease either, this must be bad, she must be very embarrassed to say this. Still she starts to speak.

'Mr Darcy, I've written to Mrs Reynolds on your request, to ask her to reserve a place for Fanny Baker as a maid this spring. I have taken the liberty to advise Mrs Reynolds to allow Fanny the chance to develop towards becoming a lady's maid, I have come to appreciate her immaculate appearance and her fastidious habits in the last few weeks.

Which is what I wanted to talk to you about right now.

I know Mrs Darcy and Miss Darcy are not used to having their own lady's maid to attend to their toilette, which is not exactly customary, but then letting one's valet and one's former lady companion share the position of housekeeper isn't either, and it works very well so far.

But, Miss Darcy is approaching the age where she would be expected to spend more attention to her appearance, and Mrs Darcy is the lady of the house, and while there is no objection to dressing simply and doing the work oneself in one's own household, I feel obliged to point out that at the coming wedding-party they will be expected to bring their own maid. If they don't, people will talk.

May I take the liberty to suggest that you, Mr Darcy, let Simon do his job as a valet for the duration of your stay at Netherfield, and that you, Mrs Darcy, and Miss Darcy, take one maid to at least present the right impression to the other ladies? And if you both agree, may I suggest you take Fanny Baker with you? She has a natural ability to fit into all kinds of company and an uncommon delicacy where talking about the master and the mistress is concerned. In short, she doesn't gossip, which I can assure you is a rarity among house-staff. Since you are both well-able to dress yourselves and only need help doing up your hair and accessories, Miss Baker will do very well.

If you then appreciate her services, we can have Mrs Reynolds school her in spring, and you'll have the perfect lady's maid next winter in London. What do you say, Mr Darcy, Mrs Darcy?'

Is that all? They should bring a maid to Netherfield to make a good impression? Well, if Elizabeth agrees he's fine with it, and Bob will be thrilled.

'Hair? Accessories?' Elizabeth seems quite put out, 'Mrs Annesley, Fitzwilliam, I totally forgot to plan what I will be wearing! I've three really good dresses, but they're country chic, not wedding-approved. I'm going to have to plan a hunt myself, Fitzwilliam, and get me something to wear to my sister's wedding. Where shall I start? There is so little time left!'

'I take it you agree to take a maid then, Mrs Darcy?' Mrs Annesley is not losing her calm, that is good, for Elizabeth looks ready to faint. 'Don't worry, Mrs Darcy, there are plenty of people in this household with a taste in fashion, you cannot take them shopping, but we can set them hunting for accessories within this house. With your permission, Simon and I will accompany you on your 'hunt', and maybe Miss Darcy as well if she's ready to embrace fashion.

Your country chic is actually rather fine, and very well-suited for the normal days at your friend's house, but I agree with you that you need something a little more city-like for the wedding, remembering a certain afternoon at Pemberley with Mr Bingley's sisters I would want to rub it in very thoroughly that you won. In fact, I wish I could see you do it, it would be my great pleasure.'

Darcy cannot help being surprised at Mrs Annesley expressing herself so ...bluntly? She never commented even once on Miss Bingley's behaviour, but apparently she did find fault with it.

'You look surprised, Mr Darcy, I suppose you may think because I never commented on Miss Bingley's behaviour I approved of it, but in fact you hired me to mind your sister, who showed surprising responsibility that morning, and in general. It was not my job to judge your lady visitors. Miss Bingley was generally rude to me, and very disrespectful to both Mrs Gardiner and Mrs Darcy, then Miss Bennet. I was glad to see her get her comeuppance from you that afternoon, and I'll be glad to help Mrs Darcy get some of her due by making sure she is better dressed and better attended to than any of the other ladies. Better loved she already was, even then, and I would dare advise the both of you to regularly exchange some tokens of affection in public, despite their being slightly indecent and possibly very painful for some guests to behold.'

Who would have thought Mrs Annesley would be so vindictive! Of course she is no longer in his service to teach his sister manners, but to run their household smoothly, which is exactly what she is doing now. And she is entitled to some feelings of her own, no-one likes to be ignored or slighted.

'Please spend some effort on Georgiana, too, but not so much that she feels conspicuous and overdressed. I'm glad you reminded Mrs Darcy of her oversight, Mrs Annesley, there is still enough time, I hope, to gild her as much as she can bear? Kissing her now and then is no hardship, I've grown so used to being intimate I would have to exert myself to refrain from exchanging the occasional caress or kiss.

How will we proceed, will you have Fanny assigned to the ladies already, to get used to the situation? I suppose she knows how to help someone dress and do her hair and all?'

'I know how to dress and do my hair, Fitzwilliam, same as you. At home we used to have one maid who helped us all, we always told her exactly what to do, she was not as smart as Fanny is. We'll manage. I don't want her in constant attendance, though, nor Simon following your every move, we'd lose every chance of being together. We can help each other out with a few buttons or a collar, this is mostly for show, right?'

She is so independent, his lovely lady, so unwilling to bow to conventions.

'If you let her in each morning when you're both decent, and Simon for his master, you can suit yourself whether you're already dressed by that time or not. You'll be riding out so Fanny will take care your riding dress is washed and dried, and your house dress ready for use. Then before dinner you can let her help you change, and before the wedding she can gild you a little extra. She actually knows how to do that, I asked and had her demonstrate to me.

Most couples use separate bedrooms, but of course there are limits to following conventions. Love must have room to flourish, and yours will demand the space it needs, it cannot be bound by any tradition.'

People just keep amazing you if you let them, and Mrs Annesley is certainly showing a side of herself Darcy has never seen before. She seems to truly value the love between himself and Elizabeth, and care less about form and manner than he expected.

They agree to let Fanny attend to Elizabeth and Georgiana for a few days to see whether it works out, and Mrs Annesley offers to scour the house with Simon for hidden treasures, accessories from times long past that may fit the current style of clothing really well. Of course they can go out and buy some, or Darcy can send for the diamonds once more, but Elizabeth actually seems to prefer jewellery with a long history.

The rest of the day passes quickly with a nice long ride in the cold, the washing and changing afterwards preceded by some inevitable loving, a quick test of the piano upstairs with Georgiana, still in tune, and long, satisfying talks with his beloved and his father-in-law.

After dinner, Elizabeth shows Georgiana her favourite stitches, and how to use them to liven up a scarf or a handkerchief. 'It's not Mrs Annesley's level, but it's entertaining and keeps the mind focussed on the conversation.'

Then Georgiana plays for Mr Bennet, and Darcy decides he dares to read the first adventures of Tom and Rose even with his father-in-law present, waking up from exhaustion to find the girl of your dreams at your side, both of you bound helplessly until you promise to join their crew, must even divert Elizabeth's easily-bored father, and indeed he laughs as much as any of them do.

'You are a great reader, Darcy!' he comments, 'I believed every single bit of it, even that there were actual women among the pirate crew who took that girl under their wings. Imagine those lady pirates being totally equal to the men, wearing trousers and guns and swords, I suppose had Lizzy known that, she wouldn't have married you but run away to join them, too.'

'Would you prefer to live in an equal society, Elizabeth?' Darcy asks his beloved seriously.

'I suppose I would, love,' she replies with a smile, 'but I can't swim, so I'd better stay away from the sea.'

'I could offer to teach you how to swim, at Pemberley this summer, it's a lot more decent than wearing trousers and a gun and robbing ships for a living, but I'm afraid you might run away to join the pirates after all once you've mastered the art of swimming.'

'Don't worry, Fitzwilliam, I'm quite happy with you. Fighting and killing sounds like quite a lot of hard work, as well as counting treasure. And you know, I'm sure Lady Catherine would not approve of it.'

'Hmm, now you mention it. We might join you, Georgiana and I. Do you still know how to swim, Georgie?'

'I suppose I do, Fitzwilliam, though I haven't practised for years. I'd like to learn to shoot and fence, and I suppose I'd get used to the hardships, but since there are no pianos on board a pirate vessel, and I'm sure Mr Fielding would not agree to teach me there even if there were, I have to regretfully decline. Though I quite like rowdy songs. Too bad, really.'

'Good,' Mr Bennet now comments, 'I'm glad you've decided to stay put, for I'm not done with your library by far. I find it very convenient to have a place to go when my wife invites my son-in-law into my own library. Your chairs are very comfortable and very nicely covered, Darcy. If you'll all excuse me, I think I'll bury myself in some books once more.'

'I'll come with you, papa, I have something I'd like to talk to you about. A father-daughter thing, you might say.'

'Fine, Lizzy, as long as it doesn't take all night, you know I'm a busy man.'

Mr Bennet is a droll man, and he must have missed his favourite daughter very much. It is so very clear where she has gotten her intelligence and her sense of humour.

If anyone can advise her on the matter of Wickham's true parentage, it must be her father, Elizabeth has decided. He is smart and very well-read, has no fancy illusions about people or the world, and he will keep quiet.

When they reach the library, her father invites her to sit down in one of the chairs and takes the one closest to hers. 'What was it you wanted to talk about, Lizzy?'

'If one had a suspicion of someone not having been faithful to their spouse, papa, how would one set to prove that without making a fuss?'

It is very funny to see him startled, then soothe her, 'Your Fitzwilliam would never cheat on you, dear Lizzy, he practically worships you. Why would you even think so?'

'I don't papa, it's not him. I think his father may have sired a son out of wedlock, and I'd like to know the truth of it. But all the people involved are deceased, would it be at all possible to find proof? Without anyone noticing?'

That does intrigue him, but he fortunately does not try to get more details about the identities of the suspects, he merely observes, 'You might find letters or entries in a diary, and most likely from the lady, men tend to destroy evidence, but a lady would hang on to a love letter or diary for sentimental reasons, risking exposure. So, dear Lizzy, find the personal effects of the love-birds, and find your clues. But be very discrete about it, my dear, you're part of a powerful family now, and your husband deserves your trust and your respect.

I'm so glad he persevered, Lizzy, you could not have met a better man. Nor he a better woman for that matter, but I'm very certain he appreciates that. I just hope you do, too.'

'I do, papa, and for his person, not for the life-style. It's generally very easy, but I'm very afraid to not live up to people's expectations at Jane's wedding. Being Fitzwilliam's beloved is something I'm really good at, but being Mrs Darcy in public...'

'Don't worry my dear, I have reason to believe that Mr Bingley's connections are not nearly as grand as your new family. I wouldn't be at all surprised if your husband is the most influential man among them. Though Mr Bingley has been entertaining a very likeable young gentleman recently, a Mr Manners, not at all bad-looking, well to do, and single into the bargain. Kitty was rather struck with him, I believe, but of course she has few charms to attract a rich man of some sense, he must be looking for someone a little more, more, let's say developed.

Still, Lizzy, I wouldn't worry too much. You look quite the lady and your husband is of course very striking. You'll do just fine.'

'Thank you, papa, and thank you for the advice. I will certainly make use of it, and if something spectacular shows up, I'll share it with you.

We'll have entertainment tomorrow, of the loftiest kind, Georgiana's teacher is coming to play his original concerto for us. He's very talented, I'm looking forward to hearing it very much, and I'm sure you'll appreciate it, too. Good night papa!'

'Good night, my dear. See you at breakfast.'


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 31

After this, Georgiana and Elizabeth check the piano one more time, and then they all go to bed, to make sure they are well-rested and ready for the hunt the next day.

Elizabeth has other plans to ready Fitzwilliam for a long morning of separation. Thinking of Simon's pranks to wake his master up, she decides to wake her beloved up with a huge surprise, but not a cold or a noisy one, she's not a young lad after all, she has other means at her disposal.

Waking up early, she very quietly and carefully strokes him until he turns towards her, and holds him quietly until he falls into a deeper sleep once more. Then she straddles him very gently, to make sure he doesn't wake up, and taking care not to tickle him she strokes his manhood until it rises, hoping it is independent enough of its owner to answer to her caresses without notifying him of those slight touches. And it works, within seconds he has a nice, firm erection.

Sitting up a little, and then sitting down on it, feeling it slide inside her easily, is as titillating to her as she intends it to be to him, and slowly she starts to ride him, feeling her heat rise with every touch on her inside. And the surprise is a success, looking at his face she can see his expression change from deep sleep to bliss, consciousness returning to him very slowly, until he is fully awake, and very excited.

'Oh my love,' he moans, 'you're so full of surprises.'

They kiss with all the passion they feel, and take their love-play to its usual heights, until they both lie back on the bed, panting and laughing.

'That was incredible,' Fitzwilliam observes, still breathing hard, 'how did you do that without waking me? And what gave you the idea?'

'It was a matter of great subtlety, love, your member has a mind of its own, and when I asked it nicely to stand up for me, it did, without warning you. And it was your banter with Simon that gave me the idea, waking you with a wet towel seemed a bit crude for a wife, I thought that could be improved.'

'Improvement is an understatement for how much better that was than being slapped with a wet towel, believe me. And I'm just as awake. Let's get up early, we'll have some time together before we go out hunting with our respective parties.'

As they both dress, Fitzwilliam says, 'Shall we ring for Simon and Fanny to help us, since we promised Mrs Annesley?'

'If we must, love, by all means. But after the wedding we can have our room to ourselves again, can't we?'

'It's just for a few days, and the time we are at Netherfield, love.

I was planning to ask Bingley to come over to Pemberley this spring, love, but of course you'll have a say in it as well. I forgot to ask, I always used to decide those things myself. Do you mind having him over?'

'Of course I'd love to have Jane with me, but what about Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst? Frankly, I don't want them in my house for more than a week, they're my sister's new sisters so I should welcome them, but please not for weeks and weeks.'

'I suppose your sister will be ready to do without them for a few weeks, I'll talk to Bingley about it, he will understand it might be a bit embarrassing for me to be in Miss Bingley's company too long. But maybe having your sister at his side will make him less likely to entertain his sisters anyway. He'll be eager for some privacy I'd guess.'

'Let's have them, then. Do you have other friends you want to invite? Does the Colonel ever stay with you? And something very different, have you ever heard of a Mr Manners? Papa said he's staying with Bingley. A young bachelor, handsome and wealthy, and very well-mannered.'

Smiling at her answers her questions one by one.

'The Colonel does stay with me, yes, at least twice a year to fish and shoot, but I wonder whether he'll want to do so now. He really had a thing for you, you know, it might be painful to see us together. And I have other friends, but I'm not planning to invite them over this spring.'

His face blanks out a little, and he comments, 'Thinking of Mr Manners now.'

Then it clears, and the smile is back, as he says, 'No, can't think of anyone by that name, not even a rumour. But I've never been in society much, I dislike strangers. I don't think Bingley ever mentioned him, maybe Georgiana knows him.'

As Simon helps Fitzwilliam choose a pair of trousers fit to wear with low shoes, and Fitzwilliam kindly allows his valet to choose a shirt and a coat, too, Elizabeth has a bit more trouble submitting to Fanny's ministrations.

They are both very uncomfortable about this, Elizabeth feels forced by Mrs Annesley and propriety to submit to something she doesn't want at all, and Fanny feels worse. She is clearly not welcome here, and she feels unsure of what to do. Seeing the pretty, modest girl so uneasy, Elizabeth berates herself internally and forces herself to be nice. The maid can't help it after all.

'I'm sorry, Fanny, I have never liked people helping me to dress, and at home I could easily avoid it, so I have dressed myself all my life. But I don't mean to upset you, I'm just a bit upset myself. What did Mrs Annesley tell you to do?'

'She told me to start by brushing your hair for you, ma'am, most people like having their hair brushed. Then when we're both a bit more comfortable she suggested we leave it at that today, and take the next step tomorrow, when you know what your dress for the wedding will be like. We can think of a hair-style and accessories, and maybe shoes.'

'Let's get on with it then, Fanny, and I'm sure I'll get used to having a maid. How's Miss Darcy holding up?'

'She's very good about it, ma'am. She let me brush her hair and help her with some of her clothes.'

That does away with Elizabeth's resentment, the poor girl can't help it after all, Georgiana sure has the best approach here.

'I do like to have my hair brushed, so I'll be a good girl and sit still. I'll get used to it, never mind my attitude now. I'm so used to being independent, I don't like the idea of other people deciding what I have to do.'

Of course there is nothing sensible a maid can say about that, she has to do what other people tell her to all day, and live with it. Once again Elizabeth realises what a privileged life she leads, and she lets Fanny brush her hair without feeling further resentment.

When Fanny and Simon are ready to leave to do their other duties, Elizabeth feels a bit guilty for having been so stubborn, and she thanks Fanny heartily for her services. The girl seems much happier, and Elizabeth resolves to behave much better tomorrow.

'You really didn't like that, did you?' Fitzwilliam actually sounds a bit worried. 'You know you are my beloved wife, and you can do whatever pleases you without having to listen to anyone. If you don't want a maid, you don't have to take one, I really don't care what people say. I just want you to be happy.'

But Elizabeth knows she is being childish about this, and she will get used to it. 'Thank you so much, love, for being willing to indulge me in my every whim. But I'm going to do this, for poor Fanny's sake mostly. She would feel rejected if she was dismissed. She has to work all day, Fitzwilliam, I can sit still and let myself be attended to for half an hour a day for a fortnight. I have such an easy life as your lady.'

He doesn't reply straight away, but embraces her and kisses her face noisily.

'I love you, Elizabeth, and I think a bit more every day. If that is at all possible. Let's have breakfast and get the hunt over with. I suppose we will not have time to ride today, since you will be tuning that piano all afternoon to make a good impression on handsome Mr Fielding? I hope your father will spare him, he seems quite sensitive, those with a lot of feeling usually bear with sarcasm very ill.'

'My father generally makes fun of ridiculous traits in people. I see very little foolishness in Mr Fielding, and once he has played my father will have the same respect for his talent that we all have. No, Mr Fielding is safe from him. I hope.'

Darcy's morning turns out surprisingly entertaining, hunting shoes with his father-in-law. Since there is no time to have their shoes made to size, they only have the choice of a few stores selling the novelty of ready-made footwear. Of course, Darcy knows all of them, before he met Elizabeth he used to take his time shopping with Simon, and they saw this new practise start among the larger stores. Now even the smaller businesses offer a few pairs for hasty buyers, and Simon firmly believes that one day, most clothes will be ready-made.

'How could one ever buy a ready-made coat, Simon? It wouldn't fit at all,' Fitzwilliam objected when Simon told him, but Simon retorted, 'They already have stores for ladies that make dresses up front in several sizes, then have a seamstress present to adjust them on the spot. People in London are hasty, and seem to get hastier all the time.'

Though Darcy didn't want to believe that, Simon said it was really true, and this very morning Elizabeth will go to several of those with Simon to find a fitting dress at the very last moment.

Buying shoes ready made is fine, and he supposes dresses and accessories as well, but coats? As long as Darcy has the figure to wear a fashionable, tight coat well, he will always have it fitted, for a badly fitted coat would be a waste of money. And his trousers, especially those longer ones Simon insists will become the fashion more and more, how could one ever get them skin-tight without having them fitted?

But when he asked Simon, his valet just laughed and said, 'Dear master, do you think poor people can afford to have their clothes fitted? And do you think most rich people have their servants' liveries fitted? I know mine is, and I am glad for it, but I don't think Mrs Reynolds has all the Pemberley servants measured for theirs. She orders them ready made, then has a maid adjust them to size.'

In fact, Darcy has never thought about how poor people get their clothes, Mrs Annesley always looks perfectly dressed, though she of course is not poor by any means.

Anyway, thanks to Simon, Darcy knows the best stores for ready-made shoes, and he takes Mr Bennet on a tour of them. They start with two reputable stores, not too expensive, nor very cheap, but the shoes on offer are old-fashioned and almost gaudy, Darcy himself wouldn't wear them.

Next is a very expensive shop, where Mr Bennet clearly doesn't feel at ease at all. Two liveried attendants plus a clerk is just too many people to have looking on when trying out shoes, Darcy cannot but agree with that, and they quickly move on to his own favourite for buying new boots, a small shop with just a few models of the best quality.

An old man helps them find the right size, and Mr Bennet immediately likes a sturdier pair, great for daily wear, but suitable to a grand occasion, too.

Darcy tries an elegant model, very becoming with his longer but skin-tight trousers and the coat Simon chose to go with them. They are a bit tight, but the clerk assures him that is normal with ready-made shoes, they will adjust to his feet after a few days. Once he gets used to wearing them, he'll make a fine figure on the dance-floor with his lovely lady.

They both pay for their new shoes, and decide to stick with coffee, considering the time of the day. And after their celebratory cup, with a large slice of pie, of course, Darcy has a proposal for Mr Bennet.

'After fulfilling our duties, shall we conclude this hunt with a visit to a shop that will warm both our hunter's hearts?'

Mr Bennet, not used to London and very curious, assents, and Darcy takes him to the store that Elizabeth loved, the one that sells hunting gear from the middle of London.

That is a hit and no mistake. Where their hunt for shoes took them a little less than an hour, they stay in this store for nearly two. Guns, clothing, fishing rods, nets, hunting coats, trousers, boots, knives, even stockings, they have everything, and of the best quality.

Mr Bennet ultimately buys a new rifle and accepts Darcy's gift of a pair of sturdy riding boots of the same materials as the ones Elizabeth wears when they go out riding.

'Your daughter loves them, Mr Bennet, and you'll love them too. They're fine for riding in winter, but also very well-suited for walking.'

After they have seen everything and bought whatever they wanted, they go home, to see how the ladies have fared.

Of course they have Simon to help them choose, which is no mean advantage. On his advice they take a cab to a long street in the middle of town, which is actually one large row of individual shops, on both sides of the street. There are milliners, dress-makers, dress-shops, shoemakers, hatmakers, Elizabeth just cannot believe her eyes, there seems to be a store for everything a lady might want to buy, several actually.

They visit one shop after another, Simon leading, but wearing his livery to look like an ordinary attendant. Of course it is not common practise for a lady of one of the wealthy families to visit a store herself, usually they have their dresses made by expensive seamstresses, but time is really too short for that, and these stores may even be a tad more fashionable.

With Simon and Mrs Annesley to protect the ladies from overzealous clerks, they soon find a very beautiful dress for Georgiana, a lovely dark blue silk that emphasises her tall, womanly figure. Her figure is so ideal at sixteen, that the dress doesn't need any adjustments, which saves a lot of time, and embarrassment for Georgiana.

Remarkably, the store also has a set of beautiful white accessories to go with the dress, a scarf of finely woven Merino wool, and a turban-style hat with a pair of short but spectacularly coloured feathers. Simon takes a deep breath to discretely convince her to take them, but she has already decided she wants them.

Mrs Annesley arranges to have them sent to the house, while they walk to the next store, only few doors away.

Elizabeth is the next one to find a dress to her taste. It has rich bronze tones, is also made of the most beautiful silk, and is fitting to her new status as wedded lady, but still youthful enough for her age. It is cleverly made, with a sash to adjust the fit to most body-shapes. She decides to have a short coat with it, not a very common accessory, but so incredibly well-cut and beautifully decorated with embroidery and little bronze ornaments she cannot resist it. It looks a little like the kind of coat Fitzwilliam wears, but much shorter, entirely lady-like and very elegant, with slightly puffed sleeves and beautiful bronze buttons .

One of the clerks, a pretty girl with a sweet voice, commends her taste, 'It's our mistress' invention, Mrs Darcy, and she is convinced it will be the next high fashion. She got the idea in Paris, where most ladies wear these beautiful coats over their dresses. It is risqué to wear it in England already, only for the very brave.'

Elizabeth checks with Simon, and he beams at her and signals a decided, 'Yes!' and a look that seems to say, 'I'm proud of you!'

And Elizabeth is proud to have his approval, for Simon seems to be a walking fashion-magazine, he knows everything. And he cannot help himself, he is supposed to be along to carry purchases, and should give his advice subtly, but despite that he brings Elizabeth a little hat, the opposite of turban-style, a rather abstract, square shape, but also made of the finest fabric and decorated exquisitely, with two long, brown speckled feathers attached to it. 'Would you dare wear this, Mrs Darcy? It would totally complete this outfit, well, except for some jewellery, which we have found in one of the rooms with old stuff, I know just the thing to go with this dress.'

'Simon, I trust you. I like the hat, though it is a bit much of a good thing for me, but I'll take it and I'll wear it at the wedding. Are we done, Mrs Annesley?'

'Almost, Mrs Darcy. You both need a pair of matching slippers, and I'd like Miss Darcy to choose one other dress, she has grown so much she should really wear more lady-like dresses, she's no longer a girl and I suppose she wants to be treated like a woman. Clothes make a large difference in the way people see you.'

'Mrs Annesley, however much I hate buying clothes and wearing fine dresses, you are right.' Georgiana is determined to do the right thing. 'I want to get respect from the people I know, and therefore I will dress for it. You show me what is on offer, and I'll try it on.'

And they bravely move on to yet another store, and with the help of her three companions, she chooses another two beautiful dresses, in youthful bright colours, but with a womanly cut, very becoming to her tall figure and full shape. One of them is not fitted perfectly, and Mrs Annesley clearly objects to that, but Elizabeth likes the dress so much on her sister, and she knows she can improve the fit herself really easily, she used to fit both her own, and Jane's dresses after all.

'I can easily remedy that, Mrs Annesley, I'm very good at fitting dresses. If you want to, you can do the stitching, you're even better at that than I am, I bet you can stitch an invisible seam no problem.'

'You can fit dresses, Mrs Darcy?'

'We didn't have a good seamstress where we lived, so we learned to do it ourselves. I know I can fix this.'

'By all means, Mrs Darcy, I'm looking forward to seeing you correct that flaw, and I'll gladly do the stitching, if you pin the seam for me. Fanny should learn, too, if she is to be a lady's maid.'

Choosing accessories now falls to Simon, since both ladies have had enough shopping for one day, and at two different milliners he decides on another turban-style hat and a simple headband of crushed velvet with a beautiful blue stone in front.

'It's rich, but in very good taste,' he explains his choices, 'and very suitable to Miss Darcy's age.'

'I love them, Simon,' Georgiana observes, 'I'll look like a Eastern princess.'

With their willingness to shop down to zero, they take a little break with coffee and pie, then march on to find shoes. They settle on beautiful soft leather slippers, showing their feet off elegantly, as opposed to the sturdy half-boots Elizabeth wears outside.

Back home, they have lunch with the men, Fitzwilliam in an excellent mood after having spent the entire morning with her father, but nonetheless eager for a lengthy embrace and some kisses, and of course Elizabeth feels exactly the same.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 32

They decide to ride out after all, in the afternoon, including Mr Bennet in their ride, to show him the city from horseback and to keep his horse active in the confinement of a London stables. Darcy's father-in-law also needs the exercise, he is used to riding every day and needs to stay in shape for their return journey. The snow keeps coming and gives the city a fairytale look, especially in the parks they visit regularly.

It is no hardship at all to have Mr Bennet along on their outings, he is a true kindred spirit, talking about books, politics and the news with great interest. He really must be starved for a sensible conversation at home, for there hasn't been a single sign of sarcasm in him during his stay in London, Georgiana loves him, Simon treats him with more respect than he treats anyone, Mr Bennet in his turn treats Mrs Annesley with more respect than Darcy has ever seen him show any other person.

After seeing them in conversation in the hall one time, Darcy decided to invite Mrs Annesley to lunch and to dine with them during Mr Bennet's stay, on her working days of course, and fortunately she told him she didn't have the slightest objection against joining them in the dining-room once more.

From the moment she was no longer Georgie's companion she stopped taking her meals with the family, sitting with the rest of the staff instead.

'I'm no longer required to sit in on your family moments, Mr Darcy, and I prefer to give you your time together. Also, mealtimes are perfect for getting to know one another, and your entire staff needs to get connected, myself included.'

Darcy could not but agree with her then, but he truly thinks Mr Bennet enjoyed her presence at lunch, and will enjoy it even more at their dining-table. Like Darcy himself, his father-in-law greatly appreciates an intelligent woman, and Mrs Annesley is near his own age. Besides, Darcy knows little of Mrs Annesley's situation at home, but it cannot be easy, he does know her husband is not able to work for a living, which suggests most domestic tasks must also fall on her shoulders. In short, she may enjoy a bit of entertainment now and again, and she clearly enjoys Mr Bennet's society as much as he enjoys hers.

Darcy supposes they will see Mr Bennet more often from now on, even at Pemberley. To be in the company of people of superior understanding must be very tempting, and worth a long ride. He will be glad for Elizabeth if her father will take the trouble to visit, he knows she feels bad about leaving him behind with just his wife and her silly sisters as company.

And for himself, he doesn't mind at all, he likes his father-in-law, who treats the servants friendly enough, and who entertains himself most of the time. Once at Pemberley, Darcy won't mind hunting and fishing with him, they can even make it a party this spring if they include Mr Gardiner.

Lost in contemplations for a few moments, Darcy is brought back to the now by their arrival at the edge of a rather large field where they usually gallop. As he looks up, Elizabeth is just urging Daisy into a slow canter to test the footing. After a few jumps the mare slips, and slips again, fortunately regaining her footing almost instantly. Elizabeth sits as firmly as a rock despite the sidesaddle, slows down back to a walk and turns to face them.

'I suppose it's a bit slippery today, Fitzwilliam, it may be better if we don't gallop. Too bad, Daisy was looking forward to a good run.'

Darcy is very proud of her, to recover so matter-of-factly from a scary situation, she really is an excellent horse-woman by now, he can hardly wait to ride to Netherfield together, but he looks forward even more to the summer on their estate, where she can ride astride once more and really test her mettle on a few mounted hunts.

But as much as Darcy admires her, her father's reaction is one of utter amazement.

'My dearest Lizzy, where did you learn to ride like that?'

Elizabeth replies airily, having Daisy walk on beside her father's sturdy horse, 'One of Fitzwilliam's stable-hands has a real talent for instructing, papa. He taught me a lot, starting out riding astride.'

'You always refused to ride, and I never understood why, you loved nature and being outdoors so much, and you were so much more athletic and quite a lot braver than Jane, who did ride.'

'I didn't like being dependent on the horse, papa. I never felt I could control such a large, strong animal. But astride I gained the confidence that I could, and I got to know Daisy as the sweetest-natured, most stable horse ever, and I realised I wouldn't want to stop riding in London so I decided to try a sidesaddle. I'd still rather ride astride, though.'

Mr Bennet's face is a study in admiration and amazement, and he doesn't have anything to say for a good few moments.

'So that was the whole trouble, being in control. I might have guessed, knowing you as well as I do. So you ride astride at Pemberley, I cannot wait to see that, though I admit I find it disconcerting to picture my daughter in trousers. I suppose that explains why your husband is so extraordinarily fond of you.'

Darcy cannot help smiling at this observation, it's not entirely true, but he remembers how the very idea of Elizabeth in trousers turned him on instantly.

'I don't ride in trousers like yours, papa, they're more like a split skirt. Very elegant and quite decent, if I say so myself.'

'Well my dear Lizzy, I'm just glad you got to know the pleasure of riding a horse, and I'm sure you'll show me some real feats in summer, astride and on safer turf than trampled snow.

But please let me tell you how wonderful you look riding like this. Your dark hair against the snow, that lovely dress, and your mare the colour of a horse-chestnut just burst out of its prickly shell. You've truly grown from a pretty girl to a beautiful young woman. I'm looking forward to seeing you in the gown you chose for the wedding, as much as I'm looking forward to seeing Jane in her wedding-gown. I'll have the two most beautiful women as my daughters, I'm going to burst with pride.'

Why, Mr Bennet seems altogether quite affected by the picture his daughter presents, which is indeed quite stunning. Looking at his beloved, Darcy realises his father-in-law is actually right, Elizabeth has changed. She is no longer merely a pretty girl, their months together have matured her into a woman, strong and self-assured, and indeed truly beautiful. Darcy can hardly wait for their wash-up after the ride, when she will undoubtedly allow him their usual intimacies.

A bit shyly, Elizabeth says to her father, 'Thank you, papa. I'm glad you approve.'

Then as her cheeky self, 'Though I'd ride astride anyway if you didn't. But only on our own grounds.

Let's turn back, I promised Georgiana we'd try for at least two more octaves before Mr Fielding arrives. Did you invite Mrs Annesley to the concert? She'd love it, though she's says she's not a connoisseur she has a real appreciation for good music.'

So she noticed, too. 'I did invite her, it would be a bit rude to have her leave after dinner, of course, and she was pleased to accept. Said she spent most evenings at home nowadays and would be forgiven spending an evening of pleasure.'

Turning the black horse, he adds, 'If we can't gallop, we may as well turn back, maybe the snow will stick less tomorrow. Georgie will be so disappointed if you aren't there to help with the tuning.'

When they get to their room, Fanny is waiting to help Elizabeth dress, but even Darcy cannot accept that. They really need those moments together, they cannot have servants keeping them from being intimate.

Fortunately, Elizabeth seems to have found some inner calm to deal with the situation and she says, 'Fanny, can you please come back say, at six? I'm going to help Miss Darcy tune the old piano so I'll be hanging over a dusty instrument for at least an hour, dressing up is entirely useless.

Did my new dress arrive?'

Fanny replies, 'It did, ma'am, I put it in your closet to keep it in perfect shape for the wedding.'

'Very good, I'm glad it's already here. What would you say to us meeting here around six, and you dressing me up as if we had the wedding tonight? We can test the look, and after that you can tone it down for a simple night's entertainment at home. I can get familiar with the dress, and we get to know how long it takes to gild me. We can have Miss Darcy over and dress her up, too, I think she needs to practise looking stunning even more than I. Is that a good idea?'

That clearly makes up for being sent away now, for Fanny looks overjoyed. 'Thank you so much ma'am, I was a bit nervous to not practise your look before such an important happening as a wedding. I'll be here at six.'

And instead of an unhappy girl feeling rejected, a very relieved girl leaves their bedroom, in happy anticipation of making up the mistress and Miss Darcy that very night.

And a very happy Elizabeth remains with him, very eager to remove his riding clothes, and have him remove hers, and with great determination they manage to stay awake this time, though sorely tempted to stay in their lovely warm bed, snuggling and kissing after some heated loving.

But tuning the piano with Georgiana is great fun as well, and Elizabeth gives her handsome husband one more hug and a loving kiss, then rolls out of the bed into the cold and washes herself thoroughly. She dries off quickly and puts on an older dress, tuning a piano can be a messy job if the piano in question is situated in a dusty room that they have not asked the staff to clean, both preferring the authentic atmosphere of the cluttered place as it is.

A woollen shawl ensures she feels warm again within minutes, and she bends over her beloved and kisses him goodbye, for at least an hour. 'I'll tell Simon he can wake you however it pleases him,' she says cheekily, and gets an adoring smile in return.

'Your father was right this afternoon, Elizabeth. You are grown into a beautiful woman, you are no longer a girl, nor merely pretty. And I hadn't even noticed until he mentioned it.'

What can a woman do but be flattered when her husband praises her like that?

'Thank you love, I'm very happy to hear you still admire me. I'm very curious what you'll think of my city-dress tonight, I hope you won't find me too much of a woman in it. But I had to do something to match my handsome husband with his exquisite coats.'

'And you haven't seen my new shoes, yet. I'll wear them, too, tonight, I need to get used to the feel of them or I'll keep tripping you as we dance. Or your sisters. Or Miss Bingley. I suppose I'll have to dance with her at least once.'

He is indeed giving as good as he gets these days, and she whispers in his ear, 'Thank you so much, love, for praising my looks.'

Then, as she leaves, 'Why not come and see us work for ten minutes or so, it will make the contrast with tonight that much more profound.'

'I will.'

And then she has to go, or Georgiana will be disappointed.

They adjust the first octave the tiniest of bits, it has slipped very slightly, but it's still a lot of work. Then they take on the higher octave, it is actually not that difficult, just a matter of finishing a tedious job. Of course having Georgiana around with her perfect hearing and confidence in finding the right pitch makes it easier, but Elizabeth does feel her sister is happy to have assistance.

After the higher octave, they tune the octave below the middle one, compensating for the inharmonics just the tiniest bit.

'Do you want to do another one?' Georgiana asks, obviously eager to go on herself, but realising not everybody can spend half their day on an instrument.

'Sure, you're doing the hard work, I'm not tired yet, and I have until six. I promised Fanny she could gild me as a trial for the wedding. Oh, and I promised her she could gild you, too. We both need to get used to having finery applied to us, and to wear it with dignity. What better time to start than immediately?'

'If you don't feel it's making things harder for Eric..'

Elizabeth hasn't thought of that. With Georgiana dressed as a woman, he may feel justified in loving her.

'You look very upper-class in those dresses, Georgiana. It will probably make him feel inferior, not the most sympathetic way to get him to conquer his love for you, but nonetheless an incentive to do so. But he'll be crushed, I didn't think of that, it may very well be downright cruel.'

Georgiana, bent over a dusty old piano dressed in her least flattering dress, a skimpy one that is at least three inches too short for her, heartlessly observes, 'It will give him inspiration for his new composition at the very least. I guess he will just have to suffer it, I want to know what I'll look like at the wedding. He'll probably expect us to dress up, won't he?'

Elizabeth dares not answer that question, but she actually wants Georgiana to dress up, very much so, to practise, but also so she doesn't feel very much overdressed herself.

Just before they call it quits, another octave nearly finished, Fitzwilliam comes in, curious how they are getting on.

'That is certainly a very charming sight, two ladies hugging a piano.'

He sounds amused, fortunately, for to be very frank it is pretty difficult to look like a lady when tuning a piano, and they are planning to tackle the instrument at Netherfield.

'Better choose a moment that Miss Bingley is out for tuning Bingley's instrument, or you'll never hear the last of it.' He is right, but Bingley's piano will not take hours to tune, it just needs adjusting to get rid of the inharmonics.

'If you're not doing anything useful, Fitzwilliam, can you please hit this key for me when I say so?'

'Yes, Georgie, I can and I will. This key?'

'Yes, dear brother, once more. And once more. Great, thank you. You've been of great help. We're done here, you can help me up, my back is locked in this position.'

'It's nearly six, Elizabeth, Fanny will be waiting for you in the bedroom, and I expect Mr Fielding at seven.'

As Georgiana plays the octaves they've tuned, she remarks, 'I think he will be proud of us, four octaves tuned perfectly, as far as I can tell. I'll join you in twenty minutes, Elizabeth.'

It is actually quite a lot of fun to get dressed for a party. Elizabeth still doesn't feel quite comfortable being treated as a child or someone infirm, nevertheless it is very convenient to have someone close the buttons on her back, and tie her sash perfectly.

The shoes are very fine and surprisingly comfortable, and sitting in front of a mirror having one's hair done is just amazing, Elizabeth can see it transformed to an artistic coiffure with the little hat on top. The feathers wave proudly, as Fanny makes up Elizabeth's face very subtly with a few touches of powder that she expertly blends to just the right shade of dark pink.

By now, Georgiana has arrived, and she watches in admiration.

'You're just four years older than I am, Elizabeth, but you look like a queen. You truly do, I am almost afraid to talk to you like this. It's a good thing your sister is so very beautiful, or you'd outshine her on her wedding day. But I suppose she'll be wearing a grand dress and Bingley's family jewels, so I guess you're safe. What jewellery will you be wearing?'

'I don't know, yet, Georgiana, it's a surprise from Simon and Mrs Annesley. Or did you help with the big search, Fanny?'

'I did, ma'am, I found a necklace that looked like it had belonged to the ancient Greeks, and Simon just loved it. Though it was ordinary copper, with a few beautiful stones, so maybe you will not like it.'

The maid's voice betrays she will be very disappointed if Elizabeth doesn't, but Elizabeth has no craving for gold or silver or diamonds, and endless faith in Simon's taste and Mrs Annesley's sense of decorum. If they think she can wear copper, copper she'll wear. The colour will match her dress perfectly.

'I'm looking forward to seeing it, Fanny, I'm sure it will match my dress perfectly.'

Then Fanny is done with her hair, and she helps Elizabeth in the exquisite coat she chose to wear with the dress.

Turning towards the large mirror Elizabeth hears Georgiana gasp, and when she sees herself in it she can understand perfectly. Is that fashionable, stunningly beautiful lady with the beplumed little hat herself? She cannot believe it, and touches her nose to prove it. The lady in the mirror also touches her, powdered, nose. It is her.

Smiling from ear to ear at their exclamations, Fanny walks up to Elizabeth and stands behind her, draping an elaborate necklace of copper links and beautiful blood red stones around her neck. It is decidedly classical in style, but very English in theme, scenes of the forest and the wild, horses and hounds chasing stags and hares, but stylised in the way of the people of the ancient world. It must have taken weeks to make, and if the stones are real rubies, it is worth a fortune despite being copper.

'Did you find that lying in some drawer of a dusty cupboard at the end of the hall, Fanny?' Georgiana wants to know.

'I did, Miss Darcy,' the maid acknowledges, 'I couldn't believe it was just lying there, forgotten for goodness knows how many years. There was gold, too, ma'am. Mrs Annesley and Simon studied all of it and they said it was worth a fortune and very wearable again. They chose a few pieces for Miss Darcy as well.'

'Did you get any of it for yourself, Fanny?' Elizabeth now asks, knowing full well Simon and Mrs Annesley would not give away their master's property without permission.

The maid reddens and admits, 'Since Bob has spoken and we're getting married in six months, they offered to ask the master to let me have two gold rings I found, for our marriage. But the master doesn't know, yet, I'm sure, for that was just this afternoon.'

They both congratulate the little maid, of course, it's so romantic, this beautiful girl marrying a homely youngster from the country because he is sweet and a good provider. Somehow Elizabeth doesn't compare Fanny to Charlotte at all, though in fact Fanny has made a similar choice, marrying a plain man to secure a comfortable home. But Bob's not a Mr Collins, Bob is very capable and a quicker thinker than any of them realised. And he's very cute when he smiles, which Mr Collins certainly isn't.

Elizabeth can imagine Bob playing with his children, teaching them everything he knows about horses, and giving an excellent example in dignity though he works in a stables. And love, plenty of love will surround his children and his wife.

Mr Collins will try to bring his children down to his own habits of grovelling and worshipping before the nobility, and looking down upon and lecturing those below him. Charlotte will have her work cut out for herself to raise her children to responsible, dignified adults. Though Elizabeth has to admit her cousin will probably love his children a lot, and learn how show it to them from his sensible wife. And one day, a day that Elizabeth hopes will not come for a long, long time yet, because it will signify her beloved father's passing, they will live at Longbourn, and Charlotte will be a lady herself.

'You've done a great job gilding me, Fanny, thank you very much. I'm sure Mr Darcy will agree to let you have the rings, I'll do my best for you in any case.

I think I can show myself like this on an evening party at home, no need to tone it down very much. It will give Mr Fielding the feeling he is truly appreciated.

Now it's your turn, Georgiana.'

And within half an hour Georgiana is also looking stunningly beautiful. She has chosen to wear the blue dress with the white accessories and the turban-style hat with the short feathers, and with a triumphant smile Fanny produces a heavy silver necklace with blue stones for her to wear. It is outlandish, ancient Egyptian in style, but very beautiful and so well-suited to the dress.

'I'm stunned, Fanny.' That is all Georgiana can say, she looks so incredibly womanly that Elizabeth hopes Mr Fielding will not get a heart-attack when he sees her. That composition of his will soon have an addition, she fears.

'Georgiana, you will be the belle of the ball on my sister's wedding.' Elizabeth means it, her sister's shy demeanour doesn't even detract from her charm anymore, it just adds to her inaccessible beauty.

And then it is time to make their appearance downstairs, just before Mr Fielding arrives, they thank Fanny heartily and descend the stairs to the drawing-room. Of course Elizabeth's eyes are mainly on Fitzwilliam as she enters, and he is obviously almost shaken by her looks. His usual loving reception of her is now decidedly shy, he hardly dares to touch her.

'Is it really you, Elizabeth? You look more like a queen than like my beloved wife.'

He bows before her, and she can see he is wearing shoes instead of boots!

'You're wearing shoes, Fitzwilliam, and they look so good on you!'

He smiles, still a bit overcome by her stateliness, but that is totally undeserved, for he looks so smart himself, besides those elegant shoes in unadorned black he also wears long tight trousers instead of the more common breeches, and though that is very newfangled she thinks it suits him much better than breeches and stockings, much more dignified.

'You look like a king yourself in those elegant shoes, Fitzwilliam!'

Well, no reverent mood can stand such an exclamation, and he gets up, lifts her against him, and kisses her full on her lips.

'And we'll try them later, dancing, if Mr Fielding allows it.'

Then he spies his sister, talking with Mrs Annesley and Elizabeth's father.

'Correction. We'll try them when Mr Fielding has recovered from his fainting-spell, by which he will certainly be overcome when he sees Georgiana.

Did I ever worry about meeting Wickham on Bingley's wedding? If I am to enter any room between the two of you, I will feel like the king himself, and I will not even notice him for pride.'


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 33

The new butler enters with Mr Fielding in tow.

'Mr Fielding, master.'

'Thank you, Johnson, we will be ready for dinner in an hour.'

Mr Fielding is not looking uncomfortable, but rather stunning himself. They have never seen him other than well-dressed, but these must be his working clothes, his outfit for performances. He is dressed in formal black, with a white cravat spilling out of his coat, and glossy black shoes. The sleeves of his coat are shorter than is fashionable, and black lace covers his elegant hands. A longer coat must be too restrictive to play in.

There is nothing really striking about those colours, but the cut of his coat, his upright stance, and especially something in his expression just awes Elizabeth. There is something about him that doesn't seem to be altogether of this world, some ethereal quality she also recognises in his work. This must be Mr Fielding in his performance mood, concentrated to the full extent of his potential.

Of course it is a bit early for such intense concentration, he is to dine with them first, and Georgiana will be sadly disappointed if he doesn't check out the piano, but Elizabeth can understand that Mr Fielding is already performing. Fitzwilliam must not discover Mr Fielding's affection for his sister, and Mr Fielding is already hard at work hiding it. Well, it doesn't make him absent-minded or impolite, he is just as charming and as outgoing as ever, and he greets Fitzwilliam very politely and yet very friendly.

Feeling slightly sorry for the young man, Elizabeth approaches him to say hello, but the effect of her appearance is rather different from what she expected. Instead of a hearty handshake and a familiar 'Hello Mrs Darcy', as usual, Mr Fielding's jaw drops and he merely stares at her, speechless.

Her own feelings wavering between embarrassment and gratitude, she says, very friendly, 'Good evening, Mr Fielding.'

'Good evening, Mrs Darcy,' he manages to reply. 'I'm so sorry to stare at you like that, but... you are so beautiful. You look like a queen.'

'Thank you, Mr Fielding. I've been dressed up to practise for the wedding. I'm supposed to look like a city-woman instead of a country girl, which in fact I am. So, do you think my maid has succeeded in her efforts?'

'Yes, Mrs Darcy, she has. I usually perform for people who like to show off their fortune, who spare no effort to make an impression with their dress. But they seldom achieve your level of sophistication. You will outshine the bride, I hope you are good friends. Didn't you tell me she is your sister?'

He recovers quickly to be so sharp, good.

'My sister is much more beautiful than me, Mr Fielding, I could never outshine her. But thank you so much for the compliment and the warning, a mere dress should never come between sisters.'

'Especially on a wedding,' Mr Fielding adds. 'I'm sorry Mr Darcy, I hope I haven't insulted you by blatantly staring at your lady wife. Please take it as a compliment, I am usually more polite, I'm a bit out of sorts tonight, something happened today that may change my life, Mrs and Miss Darcy already know part of it. I crave and fear your opinion.'

'Don't be worried on my account, Mr Fielding,' Fitzwilliam replies magnanimously, 'I nearly fell on my knees before her when I first saw my beloved dressed like a queen. I so understand your reaction. And there is Miss Darcy still to come.'

With some real concern Mr Fielding now looks up, discerning Georgiana in the background with Elizabeth's father. He actually manages to control his reaction better this time, and observes, 'She looks like an angel. So beautiful, two such beautiful ladies to look at all day. You are a fortunate man, Mr Darcy.'

'I know, I congratulate myself at least once a day. But they never look at me exactly as they look at you, Mr Fielding, you have their admiration as much as I do.'

That is all politeness, and Mr Fielding knows it. Georgiana adores Fitzwilliam as much as Elizabeth does, though in a different way.

'Only when I'm playing, Mr Darcy, only when I'm playing. And in some mysterious way, that is not even me, but something riding me, though I did gain the skills that allow the inspiration to find its way out all by myself, with hard work and dedication.'

Great, now Fitzwilliam will think Mr Fielding admires her, since he reacted so strongly to her, and only moderately to Georgiana. Never mind, Fitzwilliam will find out tonight that Mr Fielding has but one real mistress, music. If he didn't already know.

'Mr Fielding, we have four octaves tuned, will you come with us and check up on our work?' Georgiana of course is as driven as her teacher.

'Good evening, Miss Darcy, I'm looking forward to accompanying you, as soon as I have said my hello's to everyone present.'

That is easily arranged, and Elizabeth does the honours for her father. 'Mr Fielding, may I introduce you to my father, Mr Bennet. He is staying with us for few days.

Papa, this is Georgiana's piano teacher, Mr Fielding, wait until you hear him, you'll not believe how good he is.'

Seeing her father in an excellent mood, Elizabeth is glad, Mr Fielding is not someone who can take sarcasm well, or she must be very much mistaken in his character.

'Good evening to you, Mr Fielding, your pupil has made great progress since I last heard her play, some two months ago. You must be a great teacher.'

'Thank you very much, Mr Bennet, though I cannot take all the credit for Miss Darcy's progress. She is very talented, and very dedicated, and a pleasure to teach.'

After shaking hands with her father, Mr Fielding greets Mrs Annesley heartily, and asks how she is doing. They exchange a few politenesses, and then Georgiana gets her way, Mr Fielding accompanying her to the dusty room with the other piano.

Elizabeth of course comes along, she wants to know how good a job they did, and she watches Mr Fielding take place on the rather worn stool with excitement.

His beautiful hands touch the keys, and he plays a scale in the first octave, not up and down, but a complex variation that nonetheless sounds perfectly in tune to Elizabeth's ear.

He plays it again, but without the variations this time, and he compliments them, 'Well done, ladies, this one is perfect.' He seems totally at ease with the two of them, sitting behind a piano. But Elizabeth has noticed that having her hands on a piano makes Georgiana very self-assured as well.

Next he tests the higher octave, and is pleased once again. 'Perfect'

The lower octave, key by key, once. Then twice. 'Do you hear something amiss?' he asks.

Elizabeth cannot hear a thing, and Georgiana shakes her head. Smiling broadly he says, 'I can't either, it's perfect!'

They have two more octaves, the ones where inharmonics are most likely to make themselves heard. The higher one. He plays it once, and again. This time, Georgiana says, 'Yes, I hear something I shouldn't.' And she bends over Mr Fielding to strike a key. It's not sour, but there is a slight twinge in it, something is indeed not right.

'One of the three strings is slightly off, let's see which one.'

And Mr Fielding bends over the piano, Georgiana and Elizabeth both exclaiming in horror, 'It's dusty, you'll ruin your suit!'

But he laughs merrily, plucking strings here and there just for fun, until he finds the right one. He plucks each one individually, and Georgiana says, 'This one is off.' Then she hands him the muters, and the tuning-hammer, and strikes the key for him. And again. It's already done, perfectly in pitch with the neighbouring key, and after Mr Fielding has removed the muters, with the other two strings as well.

They check his suit in horror, but it's perfectly clean. 'Someone must have cleaned the piano, for it's not dusty at all,' he says coolly, remarkable, since he has two ladies looking at him, he should be shy but he isn't.

He sits right back on the stool and checks the lower octave, and without comment he starts to play. 'You've got the inharmonics down pat, and I bet that one string lost its pitch due to the age of the instrument. It's a miracle you got it so well-tuned within days of starting to heat the room. Well done, ladies, you've passed your exam with flying colours.'

'Let's go back down for dinner,' Georgiana proposes, 'I'm hungry.'

'You look very beautiful, Miss Georgiana,' Mr Fielding even dares to offer.

'Thank you very much, Mr Fielding, you look very impressive yourself.'

'Thank you Miss, it's my formal clothing for concerts, it's supposed to take the attention away from the performer, but personally, I find it very becoming.'

And it is.

Dinner is very entertaining, Mr Bennet enjoys himself hugely with Mrs Annesley, while the four young people amuse each other on various subjects. Mr Fielding tells them he is from the north of the country himself, middle child of a large religious family, his talent for music discovered by the local priest, who encouraged him to sing in the choir and helped him develop his voice until he found out that little Eric Fielding could play any instrument he chose.

The father helped him develop his skills until the boy eclipsed the master, and then he found him a patron, who sent him to school to make a gentleman out of the lower class boy. It was a lonely life, since he was not particularly welcome among the noble boys, but Eric studied hard and could always find solace with the piano, and the school's music teacher could still help him learn new skills.

His patron then took him in and had him taught by the best masters London could offer, even sent him out to Prague for a year for further development of his talent.

'But in a way I'm stuck now, I cannot improve myself or make a name for myself here, there is too much competition of settled masters, I will not become famous without improving, and I will not improve without the help of one of those masters.

And lately there has been so much music filling my ears from inside me, I'm starting to wonder whether Miss Georgiana isn't right, whether I should give up my ultimate goal of becoming an international performer and spend most of my time composing instead.

I feel trapped in my current life, entertaining my patron, playing concerts wherever I'm asked, teaching.

Please don't get me wrong, it's a much more pleasant life than herding cows on the moors, I'm not dissatisfied, but I was always so convinced there was a higher goal for me. Oh well, I'm quite happy anyway, and I'm still young.'

Elizabeth silently commends Georgiana for not exclaiming in reaction, for even Elizabeth is certain that there is a magnificent future waiting for this talented man. But neither of them says anything, and Fitzwilliam asks him a question instead.

'What would you do in a perfect world, Mr Fielding? Where money was no object, and you could get any teacher you liked?'

That doesn't take him long. 'I would keep on improving my playing by learning from the best masters, then perform in all the renowned venues, all across the world. Vienna, Rome, Paris, Berlin, Salzburg, the lower countries, I'd go everywhere and play for the rich and famous.'

'That may be a tougher life than herding cows, Mr Fielding, travelling for weeks, lugging a piano around, living out of a suitcase, never able to settle. You have lived in Prague, did that agree with you?'

'You ask hard questions Mr Darcy, but I thank you for them. Frankly, I did not like to travel, no. I loved my time in Prague, once I got to know everyone there, especially my master, whom I admired. And visiting the tribes with him was an amazing experience. But I hated the dusty roads, the endless waiting on officials checking my paperwork, the danger of being robbed or even killed on the road, meeting new people who professed being connoisseurs of music but in fact didn't have the ear.'

'I've heard that playing for the rich and famous demands an incredible investment, Mr Fielding, and that musicians working on their international career are often ruined financially by the expenses of their constant travelling.

I'm not a very creative person myself, but I can imagine the fatigue and the constant worries would have a negative influence on your inspiration and your ability to compose. Wouldn't the hardship of travel drive the music from your mind? Or would it inspire you to write more?'

'My music is driven by feelings, I guess, and travelling certainly evoked great feelings within me. But since then I have discovered other feelings, and they have inspired my music even more, so that now I can hardly stop hearing it.

I'm looking forward to playing some of that music tonight, but first I'll play my concerto for Mrs Darcy.'

Mr Fielding cannot want Fitzwilliam to ask what other feelings he discovered, right here in London, but of course Fitzwilliam already knows. And he bears his knowledge with fortitude, changing the subject to politics, and books, and the north of England, where they are both from.

After dinner, Mr Fielding begs to be excused to ready himself for the concert and get to know their instrument, and since the piano is located in the drawing-room, Mr Fielding accompanies the ladies there. Elizabeth wondered at first why Fitzwilliam didn't have a music room with his sister so talented, and she did ask him one time. His answer was so logical Elizabeth wondered why she hadn't thought of it herself.

'If we were to place the piano in a music room, my love, we'd never see Georgiana, she'd always be there and grow lonely and estranged from people. I don't mind hearing her practise all evenings.'

That is so true, and tonight it has the added advantage that Georgiana can show Mr Fielding the instrument and discuss its qualities without needing someone to chaperone her. Elizabeth and Mrs Annesley merely take up their needlework and discuss Fanny's efforts that evening between the two of them.

'I'll be honest with you, Mrs Darcy,' Mrs Annesley observes, 'I had great expectations of Fanny, but both your appearances totally stunned me, she has done even better than I expected. In a year or two, she will be wasted on you, unless the admiration you will get at the wedding will make you want to dress up on a daily basis.'

Mrs Annesley is not very subtle in her observations, but neither is Elizabeth, and Mrs Reynolds was also rather outspoken once she had gotten to know her mistress, maybe being outspoken is a good trait for a housekeeper. But Mrs Annesley is right, a talented lady's maid will not be satisfied attending to two ladies who are relatively indifferent to their appearances.

Laughing at the idea of herself suddenly becoming fashionable, she replies, 'I rather doubt that, Mrs Annesley, and if I did, I doubt Fitzwilliam would appreciate it. So I suppose we'll enjoy Fanny's services as long as she wants to stay with us. And when she gets a better offer we'll send her off with an excellent reference.

I didn't recognise myself at first, though I'm rather comfortable now, I don't feel much different.'

'You chose an excellent dress, it suits your personality well, and if one dresses in accordance with one's personality, one feels comfortable despite some extra accessories and some jewellery. I commend your taste, that little coat is so becoming.'

'Thank you Mrs Annesley.'

As the married ladies talk and stitch away, Georgiana is quite excited to show Eric her instrument. He sits on the stool and strokes the wood reverently. 'You have great taste in instruments, Georgiana,' he says, 'a Buntebart is a fine piano.'

'It's my brother who chose this piano, Eric,' Georgiana has to admit, 'and before I was worthy of it. I don't remember who advised him to buy it, but you can imagine I was very happy to have it.

My brother doesn't play himself but he loves the innovations of this age. My instrument at Pemberley is a Clementi, he got that for me when he heard it has a totally different action than the usual instrument, Italian style so to speak. I like it very much. But here I am talking away when you need a little peace and quiet. Do you mind if I watch while you try it? I can join the stitching party, you know.'

'Talking with you is an excellent preparation for a concert, Georgiana. I'd be honoured if you want to stay with me while I warm up my muscles and explore your beautiful piano. And you may even comment or ask questions.'

He is even talking infatuation now, not just merely looking it, but the other ladies are busy and he kept a tight lid on it when Fitzwilliam was with them. And when his hands begin exploring the keys, Georgiana can feel the warmth of her admiration for his talent fill her, finally finding its usual outlet on her face, her cheeks burning and her eyes sparkling.

His beautiful hands move over the keyboard effortlessly, spreading music wherever they go, still exploring the reach of the piano, its pitch, the feel of the keys and the pedal. When he stops playing abruptly it is a physical sensation, a wrench that wakes her up out of her reverie.

'Will you allow me to meddle with the tuning a little? Listen.'

And he plays one of those variegated scales. She must learn those, the very next lesson, Miss Bingley will die of envy. But she can hear nothing wrong, this is what it always sounds like.

'I hear nothing wrong, Eric. But you may tune it however you like. Shall I fetch the materials from upstairs?'

'Can't you let a servant do that for you?' he asks mildly.

'Of course. But somehow I feel uncomfortable letting others handle my instruments. Not you, or Elizabeth, not even my brother, just, well, people who don't understand. Is that arrogance?'

'No, Georgiana,' Eric replies, his voice soft and affected, 'it's a sign of true dedication. I would appreciate it very much if you would fetch the tuning set. Just the hammer and the muters will be fine.'

She may be dressed like a woman, Georgiana is still a sixteen year old girl, and she's back with the instruments in five minutes, breathing hard.

'Thank you, you're pretty fast. Now watch, and listen.'

And he plays a scale, a normal one, then gets up and bends over the row upon row of strings.

'That is just beautiful, let me take a few moments to admire this. Have you seen the heart of your Buntebart? Independent dampers, and look, whale bone transitions, so beautiful.'

In fact, Georgiana had never seen the inside of a piano before she saw Eric's, and she is very curious. Realising it may not be exactly decent, leaning over a piano with a man, she ignores her thought. Mrs Annesley is no longer her lady companion, and Elizabeth trusts her sister.

'If I tune this key, here, let me test it,' and he plucks the strings by hand, 'that's the one, if I pitch it the tiniest of bits higher, you'll hear the difference.'

This is very cosy, standing under the lid of the piano together, face to face, and Georgiana can almost imagine them kissing here. Fortunately, she really wants to hear the effect, and she's up in a second. Eric is, too, and he doesn't even look disappointed, but rather content. If this easy camaraderie is all he expects from her, he may not be disappointed, nor unhappy at all, she can give him this and enjoy it.

Back on the stool, Eric plays the same scale, then a chord. The difference is there, but what does it mean? It's not more harmonious, it was fine before and it is fine now, but how can that be?

Eric can see the question in her eyes.

'I don't know why it works this way, Georgiana. Theory has never been my strongest suit. I just know that if you pitch that key a tiny bit higher, your piano will sound fuller. Here, let me demonstrate.'

And he launches into a well known melody, centred around the key he adjusted, and it does sound fuller than when she plays it. But that could merely be his superior execution, she just doesn't know.

'I can see I'm confusing you. Never mind, we had a good time there, didn't we? Time I start with my warming up.'

And time for Georgiana to sit down, the force of his playing still staggers her, will she ever be able to achieve this level of skill? Does it matter when she can listen to Eric playing?

Of course it does! Where did that thought come from? That's utter nonsense! She will never be able to compose as he does, she does not hear original music in her mind, just music she knows and has studied. But she can practise and work until she can play music as he plays it, even his own compositions.

Before long, the gentlemen file in and coffee is served. Georgiana brings Eric a cup, and he takes it with pleasure.

'You know I'm actually a bit nervous? I play concerts weekly, for influential people mostly, hundreds at a time. But never my own composition, yet. This feels like an exam.'

'I understand, Eric, it must be very personal. And while Elizabeth and I are avid admirers of yours, my brother, Mr Bennet and Mrs Annesley are not music lovers, and rather demanding and imposing characters, all three of them. In a great hall that wouldn't matter, but in a small company like this you'd certainly find out if they didn't like it.'

He nods, and drinks his coffee. 'I suppose your brother does frighten me a little, yes.'

'Only a little? You should have seen him before Elizabeth tamed him.

But I assure you, he can be very undignified these days, and he is truly a very good and sweet person and the best brother ever. Elizabeth has him eating out of her hand, he worships her.'

'I guessed, though I've not seen much of it. She's very beautiful, and closer to your age than his, I'd say.'

'Indeed, but we are not at all alike, I've always been shy, and Elizabeth is absolutely fearless. She makes me feel very safe when I'm with her.'

'But you both like music, and have true hearing. I'm ready to start, Georgiana, will you notify the others?'

She just tells him she is shy, and he wants her to speak to people. Oh well, these aren't strangers to her after all, and not nearly as imposing as Eric deems them, he's merely in love with a girl who's above him, and fears to be judged over that.

But Georgiana wishes the entire party to know that Eric is an admirable person, maybe not for his birth, but certainly for the way he has overcome its disadvantages, certainly a true gentleman in address, and the best pianist they have ever heard.

'Ladies and gentlemen,' she says, louder than usual, immediately catching everyone's attention, 'it is my honour to present to you the extraordinarily talented Mr Fielding, who will perform his magnificent concerto for you tonight, for the very first, but certainly not the last, time, for very soon it will be heard in every concert-hall in London, England, and abroad. Let's hear it for Mr Fielding!'

Nearly stunned with surprise, Fitzwilliam and Mrs Annesley applaud her, Elizabeth smiles and applauds, and Mr Bennet looks approving, but not surprised at all. He's deep, her sister's father, and very likeable. But now Georgiana needs to sit down, for Eric is starting.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 34

The next hour is a long journey, starting in the lush green forests and gardens of England, across the rough seas to the continent, and through fruitful Germany to the beautiful city of Prague. Eric gives short introductions to the different stretches of his journey, and Georgiana recognises the part Eric played for them when Elizabeth first accompanied her, it's one of the best sequences, and indeed very wild.

Even though Eric has adapted this whole piece to the strict rules of traditional composing, it's still shamelessly romantic, evoking different feelings at every leg of his journey.

But after hearing his original piece, the new one, this now seems too polished, Georgiana's eyes have been opened by the real thing. Totally captivated by its heart-rending beauty, she cannot help but wonder how the original would have sounded. Eric told her this is a concerto, which means it should be performed with an orchestra, does he already have the music written for all the other instruments, and will he have any chance at all to ever have it played in full?

Looking at Elizabeth, Georgiana can see she is enraptured, and the other three are as well, even Mr Bennet, who has a reputation for being cranky. Then she stops thinking, and lets herself be taken away on the sounds of the piano, her very own piano.

When the last notes have died away, everyone is silent, there is no applause for it would break the spell.

Then Eric breaks it himself, saying, 'I was hoping you would do me the honour of listening to part of this piece in its original form. This afternoon, I have played it back myself for the first time since I wrote it down, just as I wrote it down, and I would love to hear your opinion.'

'There is nothing I'd like to hear more,' Elizabeth observes.

It's the bit Elizabeth undoubtedly likes best, the wild piece that first caught her attention. Hearing the original, Georgiana knows she was right, and Elizabeth even before her. This is better, it lives, it breathes, no-one has ever told such a story with just a piano. People everywhere will love it, maybe not the self-proclaimed music connoisseurs, they will find it sloppy, but everyone else must feel the force of this.

Eric plays a full ten minutes of his original score, and this time when he stops playing, they do applaud, with all the force five people can deliver.

'That was amazing, Mr Fielding, thank you so much.'

Elizabeth is very much affected.

'I'm still a bit confused, where did you take us?'

Even Mr Bennet felt the power of this composition, 'those Czech mountains again? They sounded a lot more dangerous this time.'

They talk a while, about foreign countries and travels, and then Eric offers to play some lighter entertainment, and when his audience agrees, he looks at Georgiana in supplication.

'Will you play with me, Miss Darcy?'

She should have known, and she really doesn't mind, but her stool is a bit narrow for two, so she lugs a footstool to the piano and sits beside him.

'Do you need the sheet music?'

'We've played this so often, I can do without.'

They play their quatre mains, both very difficult pieces, and the beautiful song. Knowing Eric was in a choir as a boy makes his fabulous voice even more profound somehow, he must have been in agony losing it, then overjoyed to get it back intact, though a lot deeper, of course. And then Eric springs his surprise.

'Now, Mrs Darcy, I have played for you several times, and I know you play lively folk songs and the occasional reel, but I've never heard any of them. Can I tempt you to entertain me, and your guests, with a few songs?'

Elizabeth shows surprise, and a distinct unwillingness, understandable after such entertainment as has been provided so far.

'Please don't be mad at me, Mrs Darcy, I'm sure Miss Darcy can be convinced to help you out, and I offer a reward. If you will play three songs for me, I will play for you, and the rest of our audience, the whole of my second composition as far as I have it written down. All of it. Will you take my offer?'

He is certainly very charming, and very devious. After his obvious admiration for Elizabeth as he came in, to tease her and offer to play especially for her, no-one will ever believe him to be Georgiana's admirer. Fitzwilliam will think he has a thing for Elizabeth, and since he trusts his beloved unconditionally, he will not even mind that. He may even understand.

'Will you please play with me, Elizabeth?' Georgiana knows she will need some convincing.

'All right, but not on my own. It would be cruel to subject anyone to my bungling when they've just heard a master play, and sing.'

Georgiana quickly puts the sheets of the songs they have practised together on the stand, and they play and sing two very creditable duets.

Then Elizabeth plays the folk song she has taught Georgiana, and Georgiana joins in with the singing. Her sister's fingering has improved a lot, and she even remembers the correct stance, Georgiana is impressed. If Elizabeth had a little more ambition, she could advance quickly.

But for now, Elizabeth is clearly glad it is over, she has done what she had to, to earn another composition.

The audience, including Eric and of course especially Fitzwilliam, applaud the two of them heartily, and Eric gets up from the chair he was sitting in and moves back to the piano stool.

'You have earned your reward, Mrs Darcy, that was pretty good, much better than you described your own performance. I'm sorry to startle you into playing like this, but I promise I'll make it up to you. Thank you very much for your performance.'

And the music starts once more, quietly, lovingly, Georgiana now open to its full effect. As Eric's feelings grow stronger, they take Georgiana along with them and she feels honoured and flattered to have inspired an adult man, a supremely talented man, to write this beautiful music, to feel such powerful emotions.

If she listens to this composition too often, she will fall in love, it cannot be helped, it is so beautiful. Fortunately it is still mainly heartening in tone, there are a few moments in minor, but most of it is elevating, spirited, hopeful.

Again, she gives herself up to the experience, and after fifteen minutes, when Eric is done and the music fades slowly, she is not ashamed to wipe a few tears from her eyes. She wants to hug him and tell him to be patient, wait for her, but she cannot. Not for propriety, but not for herself either. She just doesn't know, can she ever love him? Can he really love a woman over his music? Georgiana is not the kind of woman to marry an artist, then sacrifice herself to him and his children, she is an artist, too, and has been used to people caring for her, she has never known hardships, she is probably not suitable to anything else but be a gentlewoman, no matter how harsh a realisation that is.

Those thoughts do not help stopping her tears, and she fears to make a scene, but Mr Bennet spies her and takes her to a quiet corner, with the excuse of not wanting to disturb the atmosphere by having servants come in to pour some wine.

'There, there,' Elizabeth's nice father says, he's actually not that old, not even fifty she'd guess. His hair is grey, and he has quite a few lines in his face, but he's probably outside riding and hunting all the time, and the skin tends to show that.

'That composition sure was powerful, Miss Georgiana, your piano teacher is a sensitive, and sensible, man. And very talented as well. I hope the world is ready for him, I wouldn't be surprised, most people like a good cry now and then. If my first love ever hadn't turned out so dramatically, but in a totally unsentimental way, I'd have shed a few tears myself. I still may, for what might have been had I been as fastidious and as fortunate as your brother.'

That's right, Elizabeth's silly mother is his wife, it's incredible he ever thought it a good idea to marry her. But it would be so much worse if Georgiana were to marry the wrong man, he'd own her.

'You'd better follow his example, and choose very carefully. Remember child, money isn't everything, sitting at a table and having something to say to one another is generally vastly underrated.'

Is he telling her a certain pianist might be a good choice for her?

'Well, I'm ready to carry a few glasses, are you allowed wine at your age?'

'If it's well-watered, yes, I can have one glass.'

'Then this one is for you, see, more water than wine. I suppose Mr Fielding is an adult, and Lizzy is married to one, which makes five glasses of unwatered wine. Here you go.'

And they each carry three glasses of wine to the group of people now sitting and talking, and hand everyone a glass. By the time they arrive, Georgiana has her feelings under control.

After one glass of wine, and a lot of interesting talk about Mr Fielding's music, Mrs Annesley announces she has to go home.

'My husband will be waiting for me, he's getting spoiled with my being home most evenings.'

Mrs Annesley, joking at the expense of her husband? The end of the world must be nigh.

Mr Bennet says, 'I'll show you out, and then I'm going to say goodnight to the library, and turn in myself.'

Georgiana is actually rather tired, and she feels it may be wise to leave Mr Fielding to Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth for a while, not to seem too attached to him, so she takes her leave as well.

'Thank you so much for your beautiful music, Mr Fielding, I had no more trouble feeling its force. I'm sure most people will truly appreciate it, normal people, I really think they'll pay to hear you play. See you the day after tomorrow for my lesson, I'm looking forward to it. And thank you so much for helping us tune. Good night!'

She shakes his hand with feeling, and he very briefly puts his other hand on hers.

'It was my pleasure, Miss Georgiana, and I'm looking forward to our next lesson. Thank you so much for your trust in me, it really helps me. Good night.'

Darcy is very surprised to see his sister leave before Mr Fielding does, but she seems happy enough, and indeed rather tired. He still hasn't seen even the slightest sign of their guest admiring her, if anything he'd say the musician admires Elizabeth, but if both ladies say so, Darcy cannot but trust them.

One thing is certain at the very least, he truly likes the young man, a lot. His life's story is very touching, and in a way much more interesting than any of their own lives, and Darcy has rarely heard a more sensible view on the world. Mr Fielding has thought on serious subjects, he is certainly not totally focussed on music.

Instead of taking his leave, Mr Fielding now asks, 'Mr and Mrs Darcy, would I be imposing on your time very much if I were to ask you to bear with me for another half hour?'

Of course Elizabeth will comply, she likes him.

'Certainly, Mr Fielding, of what use may we be to you? Please sit down, do you want another glass of wine?' See, he knew it.

'If it is not too much to ask of you, I'd like that, please. This is hard for me to talk about, but I've been feeling the need to share it with someone for some time now, and this day has brought new developments. I hoped to find the two of you not just understanding listeners, but also qualified to give me some sound advice.'

That doesn't sound as if he's going to ask permission to woo Georgiana. He is looking at Darcy now, he truly doesn't want to impose, to ask Darcy's leave to speak up, as well as Elizabeth's.

'If we can be of any assistance, Mr Fielding, it will be our pleasure to help you. Please sit down, you too, Elizabeth, I'll pour the wine.'

As Darcy does just that, he can hear his beloved praising Mr Fielding's work once more.

'I've never heard music with such impact before, Mr Fielding, I truly believe people of all levels of society will feel it and want to hear it. I think you have a real future as composer. It's not connoisseurs who will fill a concert-hall, it's the people coming to watch you perform who will be doing that. Maybe you should step out of your comfortable world of nobility and bring your music to the real people.'

Mr Fielding actually brightens a little, causing Darcy to realise his animation was gone as soon as Georgiana left the room. But that was not due to love, he was hiding something from her, something that is bothering him, and they are about to find out what.

As they are all sitting, glass of wine in hand, Mr Fielding tells them what is riding him.

'I told you my patron enabled me to attend a good school, where I learned my manners and improved my playing manifold. Then he took me under his wings directly, engaging a master to teach me, much like I teach Miss Darcy now.

He sent me to Prague to study for a year, though that was not merely for studying, he also wanted me to find a new market for his piano's and harpsichords, my patron was one of the first manufacturers of piano's in London, and before that he already made harpsichords, still does.

I owe him everything, without him I would indeed be herding cows on the moors, or more likely, be dead, for I was not a vigorous child.'

Mr Fielding pauses awhile to take a sip from his glass of wine, then continues.

'I have always had great respect for my patron, I even loved him as a parent, but recently we have not been seeing eye to eye anymore.

I am an artist, I want to improve my skills as performer, and for that I need to find a new master abroad to teach me. After that, I want to travel the world to perform in the greatest halls, though Mrs Darcy, your notion of bringing music to the common people, the tradesmen, even the working people, does stir something inside me.

Of course my aspirations are expensive to fulfil, and I would be out of town, even out of the country for at least a year, and then for months at a time afterwards, but I could represent my patron's business interests wherever I went, making back some of the money he invested in me, and making up for my absences by gaining him clients and new markets for his instruments.

He, however, is not interested in furthering my career and allowing me to develop, he says I'm the best player in London and should be pleased with that. My patron wants me to stay put, play ever larger venues here, on his instruments. He's had the famous German composer Mozart play one of his, did you know that? And in a way I can understand why he refuses to spend even one more penny on my advancement, since he doesn't profit by it, being a tradesman, not an artist. He does not feel the drive I have, he cannot understand how unhappy I am becoming.

In short, my patron, to whom I owe everything, has fettered me to London and to his business interests, and now he wants me to marry his daughter. Louisa is pretty, she is sweet, she is his heir and will be very wealthy one day, but she is not developed at all. She has no interest beyond running a household and raising children, never reads, and has nothing of any interest to say, and yet she admires me as her hero. My indifference is very hurtful to her, and it pains me, too, for I love her as a sister and hate to see her unhappy. But ever since I met your sister, Mr Darcy, I know I'd rather stay single all my life than marry a girl without drive, without ambition of her own.

So, with a career as performer out of reach, and a hopeful maiden eyeing me across the dining table each evening, I'm starting to lose heart.

Then this afternoon, the worst thing happened. You know I have not performed my entire concerto to anyone before this evening, it is very personal, and I did not want to risk rejection of something so close to my heart. I have played parts of the worked version for my patron, and he told me he could appreciate it, though he prefers to hear technically complicated pieces, like sonata's.

But this afternoon, as I prepared for this private concert, I was playing back some of the original sheet music, and I got totally caught up by its force and feeling. When I was done, I saw my patron, he had come in without my noticing it, and I could see at once that he hated it. He wanted to know what I was playing and I told him, and he wanted me to promise him I would never play my own music in public.

I cannot promise him that, and I told him so, but not as frankly as I would have liked to, I know you will understand! How can I deny myself after having been forced to deny my ambitions already? Will I have to spend the rest of my life indentured to him? It would be a pleasant captivity, with good food, all the luxuries I'd want, a sweet wife, and wealth and freedom after my patron's death. But I've never strived for an easy life, I want challenges, I want to truly live, I cannot deny the music that is in my mind. I cannot play other composers' music when my own is fighting its way out day and night until I write it down.

I fear that if I don't obey him he will throw me out and find another musician to promote his instruments, and I'm afraid of becoming destitute. I'm not strong, I cannot do anything but play and compose, I cannot work the docks or serve in a household, I was raised a gentleman, without any useful skills.

But I know I cannot become a placid, fat husband to a tradesman's daughter either, playing sonatas on my father-in-law's piano's to demonstrate their superb quality and latest innovations.

Please give me advice, I need it!'

As Darcy is still thinking through Mr Fielding's dilemma, Elizabeth says with feeling, 'You need never be destitute, Mr Fielding, you can always teach for a living. You could build up a new life, less easy of course, but someone of your talent will find a new patron eventually.'

But Darcy understands Mr Fielding's guilt, his disappointment, the temptation of easy money at the price of taking a simple wife and wasting his best years.

'I'm very sorry for you, Mr Fielding, I can imagine how you must feel, torn between duty to the patron who made you, and your talent and ambition telling you you're being fettered.

I cannot presume to tell you how to lead your life, but as a man who waited ten years for the right woman and went through the depths of despair before being able to win her, I advise you not to marry without love. Both despair and being deliriously happy must be such fabulous inspiration for your music.

I have never been patron to anyone, but having been head of two extensive households and a landlord to dozens of families for five years, since my esteemed father passed away, I pride myself on having some insight in your dilemma. I do not own the people who work for me. They work hard, they depend on me, and I see it as my duty to help them lead their lives as pleasantly as possible. If they grow beyond my service, I let them go and help them to get ahead. Holding back ambitious people doesn't serve any purpose, they will grow unhappy, and they will usually blame their unhappiness on the people who they feel are holding them back.

Your patron made you, but he does not own you. You have no obligations to make either him, or his daughter happy at the cost of your own peace of mind.

I have enjoyed your concert immensely, and I agree with Elizabeth that most people would appreciate your music. It is much more accessible than most compositions, less stiff and yes, less pretentious. It has true feeling, and anyone can understand its nature. Your patron has no right to keep you from composing and from playing your music to an audience.

But I also understand you feel indebted to him and would unwillingly leave his protection. May I propose a solution to you?'

Mr Fielding, obviously heartened by Darcy's layman's praise of his work, is all ears.

'Mr Fielding, I will look into this business of being someone's patron, I have the means, I have the inclination to be of use to you, and I'm sure I'd gain some extra credit with my wife and sister in supporting you. I do not guarantee you an international career, I have no insight in the cost, I think it might be beyond what I'm prepared to invest.

And personally I think your constitution is too delicate to travel the continent ceaselessly, also, as an adoring brother, I have to listen to my sister, who says you would be a loss to the world as composer if you were to become solely a performer.

But I dare advise you to just be yourself with your patron, be frank and tell him you cannot give up all your ambitions to marry a girl you only love as a sister. Be realistic about your own views of your future, you cannot expect your patron to beggar himself to pay for your dream. But you are not his possession, and if he should throw you out for refusing to be one, I will personally see to it that you do not become destitute. I will help you find a place to live and an income to support yourself.

And if my inquiries into being a patron have a favourable outcome, I may even be prepared to further your career. But, that does mean you will have to be blameless in the separation from your current patron, I will not have people say I stole you from him, put you up against him to further my own ends. I have an excellent reputation among the tradespeople of London, and I mean to hold on to that. He will have to decide to part with you, though that may hurt your personal feeling of dignity. Be yourself, and if he lets you go instead of letting you develop, I will help you.'

Darcy can see the relief on the young man's face, and he truly admires his talent and his burning ambition. Whatever his birth, this man is now a gentleman, and he should not be forced to serve anyone at the cost of his personal development. Darcy's mind is already thinking of the person best suited to find out what is expected of a patron to an artist, and it decides on his lawyer. He needs to see him over Elizabeth's settlement anyway, that should be ready to sign by now. Better have his cousin Fitzwilliam over to witness right after the wedding, just in time for a Christmas party in London.

'Thank you very much, Mr Darcy, I'll take your advice and tell my patron about my feelings without mentioning you or your kind offer. I love him almost like a father, and I will tell him the truth, that I love Louisa like a sister. I didn't dare before, for fear of ending up in the streets. If he should decide to stop supporting me, you will not be held accountable in any way.

And I will take you advice on marriage to heart especially, for I never realised your marriage had not been love at first sight. It feels that way, you're so, well...right, together. Love always seemed to me to be second to ambition, but recently I have started to review that opinion. Maybe playing in all the great halls of Europe is not the only way to gain happiness.

I feel much lighter, though it will be difficult to face my patron with what I know will anger and hurt him. But I cannot live like a slave, I must decide my own fate, and I cannot refrain from composing any more than I can refrain from drawing breath.

Thank you again, both of you.

I hope to see one of you with Miss Georgiana at my patron's place, just before you leave for Hertfordshire.'

They shake hands, and Darcy can see Elizabeth needs to actively refrain from touching him further, probably to soothe him. He is of an age to be her brother, and such an engaging personality, but Darcy sees nothing to make him jealous of his beloved's affection. He hands Mr Fielding the payment they arranged for the evening, noticing the young man seems to have a hard time accepting it. He does pocket the money, though, distracted by Elizabeth speaking.

'Good luck, Mr Fielding,' she says, 'I hope things will work out better than you expect. They still might, you know, your patron must love you, too, to want you to marry his only child.'

And since Darcy has nothing to add to that, he merely takes the young man's shoulders in a solid grip, and adds, 'Good luck, Mr Fielding. Please keep us informed.'

Then Mr Fielding leaves, and as soon as their guest is out of the room, Elizabeth embraces Darcy tightly.

'I had such hope his patron would appreciate his work, this must be a crushing disappointment to Mr Fielding.'

Her hair smells lovely, though he prefers to see her less made up, she's almost too beautiful for him this way, more like a queen than an ordinary mortal.

'You like him a lot, don't you?'

'I do, Fitzwilliam, I cannot help it.'

'Should I be jealous?'

She looks up at him, incredulous, then observes, 'You're not even making fun of me, you're partly serious. I'm yours forever, Fitzwilliam, there is no man in this world who can compare to you.'

Then, more playfully, 'I like Mr Fielding, admire his talent, but he is obsessed with music. I prefer a man who lives in the real world, and who adores me, not a chunk of wood held together with strings.

Besides, he's in love with your sister.'

'Are you sure, Elizabeth? He seemed to admire you very much.'

'Believe me, he is. He's just a very good actor as well as a superb player and singer. And I look very good in this dress, you said so yourself. I'm not worried, nor should you be. If you want to worry, worry about your sister. If he gets thrown out of his patron's protection, she'll want to rescue him at any cost.'

'You will, too, and I want to help him, too. I like him so much I don't even think about his birth anymore. He is a gentleman in all other respects, and I'm sure he would treat my sister with respect. But don't tell him that, and you can even keep that a secret from my sister, since you're doing her the same favour.'

Does she show a twinge of guilt? Darcy is certain of it, but if Georgie confides in Elizabeth, how can he object to that? Intimacy between them was his dearest wish, wasn't it? He rejoices in it, even though it does make him feel a little left out.

'Never mind, Elizabeth, I'm glad you are close, Georgie never had anyone to confide in. She must be very happy to have you, though not as happy as I am.'

And he lifts her to his chest, ready to go to their nice warm bed, and hold her against him without their beautiful clothes between them.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 35

The next day passes quietly, with their usual activities. But in the quiet hour just after lunch, Elizabeth asks Georgiana to put on the dress that needs a better fit, so they can adjust it before they leave for Hertfordshire.

Mrs Annesley is very interested to see the process of fitting a garment that has already been finished, she has her own dresses made by a seamstress and they work differently, fitting before they even put scissors to the fabric.

Pinning two new seams deftly, Elizabeth is satisfied with the result and hands the dress to Mrs Annesley, who not only seams very beautifully, but also very quickly.

Work done, Georgiana puts on the dress, and Mrs Annesley admits, 'You were right, Mrs Darcy, that was very easy to do, and it looks ever so much better. Will you wear it tonight, Miss Darcy?'

Tonight they are going out. Elizabeth is forcing her loved ones to accompany her to a play. It's a comedy, not too difficult, they have to start small, before it's too late and spring has arrived.

Once they have arrived in the old theatre, Darcy is reminded of the dingy circus he visited with Mrs Younge, and he observes, 'There is a place where I want to take all of you, though I suppose time is a bit short before we are off to Netherfield. But please remind me when we have returned, we should take Mr Fielding, too, he will probably appreciate it, and it's not inappropriate to take him if we go in a larger group. Bingley and your sister will want to see it, too.'

Elizabeth is merely glad she didn't wear the city-dress, she would have felt very out of place here and overdressed. Fanny's advice, to wear the beautiful copper necklace and a cap with a feather with one of her country chic dresses works really well, she feels fine, blending in with the rest of the visitors, as does Georgiana, despite her taller figure and her new dress.

Fitzwilliam does stand out, his tall figure and proud stance make him seem very imposing, despite him wearing his shoes instead of boots, and they have no problem at all to get to their box through a crowd moving towards the main hall, somehow people seem to make way for him.

When they return that night, after a pleasant evening out, they have just one more day left before they set off for Netherfield. Most of their belongings have already been packed, the little carriage will be heavily loaded with more than a week of fancy clothing, and of course Georgiana's sheet music and tuning gear.

The next day, Elizabeth accompanies Georgiana to her lesson, but with clear instructions from Fitzwilliam that if anything seems amiss, Mr Fielding can come to the house to speak to him whenever he needs to. Also during their stay at Netherfield, for Mrs Annesley has her instructions, and she will be at the house every day during Simon's absence.

Georgiana is eager for her lesson, but Elizabeth is afraid to find Mr Fielding in a depressed state, fallen out of grace with his patron.

As they enter the room with the piano, a Zumpe according to the lettering on the front, that must be the name of his patron then, Elizabeth can see no difference in Mr Fielding's demeanour. He's the same friendly teacher he has ever been, and he gladly teaches Georgiana his variegated scales, a trick she picks up in five minutes. As she is trying her new skill happily, Mr Fielding joins Elizabeth on the sofa for a moment, and talks to her in a low voice.

'I have not talked to my patron, yet, he's on a business trip outside London. I'm not sorry about that, I'd prefer him not to connect my insubordination to my visit to your house, it will make things easier. But facing Louisa is getting harder and harder.'

'Mr Darcy sends word, Mr Fielding, that if anything should happen, leaving you in need of a roof over your head or anything else, you can come to our house even while we're away. Talk to Mrs Annesley, and she will make arrangements. Don't hesitate to use his offer if in need, Mr Fielding, my husband likes you and does not make empty promises. You are welcome.'

'Thank you very much, Mrs Darcy, both of you.'

Then he continues their lesson as if nothing has happened, delivering on his promise to give Georgiana a load of material to practise in the country, some of it even light music, suitable to dancing.

Elizabeth receives instructions, too, to be vigilant for certain minor mistakes Georgiana tends to make, and to point them out, even if they seem inconsequential to herself. They are important to Georgiana.

'You will like playing these dances, Mrs Darcy, please let Georgiana put you to work at least once a day. Let her teach you those scales, they'll stun your acquaintance and make practising much less boring. You have a talent yourself, even if you lack the inclination to develop it.'

His instructions make it sound as if they may never meet again.

'Miss Georgiana will be here for a lesson in a day or six, Mr Fielding, and I will most likely join her, we're not moving to India. Everything will turn out for the best, you'll see.'

Sitting in the cab back home, Georgiana asks, 'What was Eric's martyr attitude all about? Did I miss something yesterday?'

Deciding to just tell most of the truth, Elizabeth makes a quick revision.

'He's having trouble with his patron, who is trying to keep Mr Fielding stuck where he is now, playing concerts on the piano's he wants to sell, teaching. Contrary to Mr Fielding's expectations, his patron doesn't want him to reach the top, but rather marry him off to his daughter, apparently a nice but uneducated girl. He even mentioned you as the example what a woman should be. Ambitious, mostly.

Worst of all, Georgiana, his patron doesn't like Mr Fielding's compositions, at all. Wants him to stop writing his own music and just play complicated music made by other composers. Mr Fielding asked our advice, actually mostly Fitzwilliam's I guess. You would have been proud of your brother, he advised Mr Fielding to be honest to his patron, and if that got him sent off, to come to us.

He didn't promise him a career, just a place to stay and a way to keep himself fed, and the possibility of a new patron. But he admonished Mr Fielding to stay put until his patron sent him away, and stay polite, to protect Fitzwilliam's reputation. You can imagine your teacher is a bit nervous, having to refuse his patron's daughter, whom he loves as a sister, and tell him he's going to keep composing, and start playing his music to audiences.

But if he gets kicked out, Mrs Annesley knows to take him in, and he knows he's welcome. I just told him. Don't tell him you know, he'd be mortified. And better keep Fitzwilliam in the dark, too. He knows we share confidences, and he doesn't mind, though he doesn't exactly like it, I suppose. He wants us both to confide in him, of course, as we used to do.'

'I wouldn't have confided the things I told you to Fitzwilliam before I had you. Until just after you and I first met, we'd never really talked, my brother and I. He was like a strict father, not exactly inviting confidences. I had to keep those things to myself, and that was very painful, making me very happy to have someone to share them with.

If Fitzwilliam didn't hold power over my future I'd confide in him totally, as long as he does, there will be certain things I cannot tell him.'

'He understands, and I think it pains him more that I keep things from him. I promised to tell him everything that concerned me, but not you. That is yours to decide.

But now you know why Mr Fielding was nervous at the last moment, and why we talked while you practised.'

'He will be famous you know, whatever happens. One cannot stop a talent like that, it comes out despite all attempts to hinder it. Somehow, I'm glad he's not getting married. Strange, but true. Thank you for telling me, I'll keep quiet.'

That subject done with, Elizabeth moves on to the coming trip.

'Are you ready for tomorrow, Georgiana?'

'I am, but I'm glad your father will be there. He has been very good to me, another soldier in my army against Wickham. As are those lovely gowns, I felt worth millions dressed up like that.'

'Good girl, you'll turn into a city-girl yet. Do you think Mr Fielding seriously wants me to practise those scales and those dances with you?'

'Eric never jokes about anything connected to music, I'm sure he means it, and I will not be surprised if he lets you play them for him next time I have a lesson. He won't scold you if you fail, but he'll look at you in a certain way that will make you feel very small.'

Then looking at her sister.

'On the other hand, maybe he will not. You are a true lady these days, he may not dare to look at you that way. But he will make you play them for him, he did yesterday, with people watching, he can do it.'

'In that case, you'd better show me how to play those scales, I like the effect. And dances are always fun to play.'

Darcy visits his lawyer that very morning, to ask his advice about becoming a patron.

'Can you please find out the legal implications of a patronage? There is a musician I would like to support, but I have no idea what would be expected of me in such a situation.'

'I will do some research, Mr Darcy, and you will hear my results by the time you return to London. I suppose there are no set rules for a patronage, though, you might have us make up a contract, or a document to clarify the mutual expectations, but I don't think that is customary. Usually there is merely a gentlemen's agreement between the two parties involved. However, I will find out.'

Well, that is a bit of an anticlimax, apparently one can just call oneself patron and hand out alms to one's protégé. That is not how Darcy would imagine it, he'd take it seriously and set a goal for both parties to strive for. He'll amuse himself writing a few of those down, the coming days, and if Mr Rivers cannot find any definition of patronage, they can use those goals as guidelines. And who knows, maybe Mr Fielding will be able to repair his broken connection to his current patron.

The next morning they make an early start. The carriage is ready and the three riders are mounted and eager to go. Business in their London house is all arranged to Darcy's satisfaction, the preparations for their Christmas party will go ahead without their interference, Darcy has nothing left to do but survive his friend's wedding, and try to enjoy himself in the process.

Bob has not been bragging, the slow team is no longer lead-footed, the placid mares stride out with energy, breath misting in the early frost, and Darcy guides his black behind the carriage and next to Elizabeth's Daisy until they have left London. Heavy traffic is Bob's speciality, and he will lead them out of town without the slightest delay.

For the roads are already rather busy, London apparently awakes early, and traffic seems to get thicker each year. But twenty minutes see them out of town and into the country, the horses still eager, and Elizabeth still riding with pleasure, admiring the scenery around her.

Once outside the city limits, they let the horses trot for a while, Elizabeth preferring a slow canter on her impractical saddle, Daisy and Mr Bennet's horse keeping up with the carriage admirably.

They are no longer riding behind the carriage, there is plenty of space now to fan out a little, and the countryside is positively pretty, covered in snow. It is rather cold, and Darcy worries a little for his beloved in her skirts, until he remembers her snug boots and long woollen underwear. So many times he slowly stripped them off her after their afternoon rides, and not once did she complain she was cold, or did she feel cold to his eager touch.

This is a beautiful ride, and before he is fed up or tired they have reached the village where they will stop to have lunch and rest the horses. Elizabeth's eyes are more brilliant than ever before, she has had a good morning, too. Her cheeks are blushing and a few tendrils of her hair have escaped her riding hat, framing her face deliciously.

'I'm glad we practised every day, Fitzwilliam, I'm not even really tired, yet. Of course there is as much ground to cover after lunch as we did this morning.'

'I'm very proud of you, my Lizzy, to ride so far after just a few months' practise.'

Looking at Mr Bennet after just having admired his daughter, Darcy is surprised how much Elizabeth actually resembles her father in appearance. He knew they were very similar in character, though Mr Bennet is less gentle than Elizabeth, probably a result of his disappointment in the matter of his marriage, but Darcy never realised they had the same eyes, and similar facial features.

To think Darcy once thought his father-in-law to be a disadvantage of a possible marriage to Elizabeth, he had just never seen the real Mr Bennet, only the sarcastic caricature of a man sorely disappointed in life and especially love. Sitting at a table in an inn, travelling with Georgie, and his bride and her father, it is almost as if he has a father again himself.

'You will visit us at Pemberley, won't you, Mr Bennet? As soon as your spring duties at Longbourn are fulfilled? We'll invite Mr Gardiner as well, and go fishing and riding. Does Mr Gardiner ride?'

'I suppose he does, he must travel for his business, but frankly, I don't know. They always use the carriage for visits, because of the children, you know.'

'Well I hope he does, or my man Peter will have to teach him. He can use Daisy, I've my coachman looking for a new horse for Elizabeth.'

At Elizabeth's exclamation he soothingly says, 'You can try it out first, of course, love, I'm not going to force you to ride a horse you don't trust. But I thought you wanted to join me in the hunt, and you can't do that on Daisy, she'd die trying to keep up with the hunters. We'll hold on to her, of course, for trips to the city, but you'll need a hunter, and not the kind Peter's father-in-law breeds, that is a bit much still, or I'd have Peter's missus train one especially for you. I may still employ her to train your new horse.'

'I'd like to try Daisy, Elizabeth, if you approve.'

Was that Georgie saying she wants to try riding a horse?

'Don't look like I've sprouted wings, Fitzwilliam, can't a girl decide she wants to learn her brother's favourite pastime? If you all go riding I want to go, too. I don't want to grow stout like Aunt Catherine, and you know I have her build. Riding is good exercise, isn't it? And I will feel left out if you leave me behind all the time.'

'I think it's an excellent idea, Georgiana, and frankly, a real inducement to me to even consider riding a different horse than Daisy. We can't ride her together, after all. I'm glad you didn't decide to surprise me with another horse, Fitzwilliam, I'll need some time to get used to the idea. But I do want to try hunting, even if it's just once. I'm afraid my enjoyment of riding will be short-lived anyway, once I'm with child I'll be back to rambling anyway.

Or maybe the phaeton with ponies my aunt Gardiner wants to use to go around the park.'

'Dear Lizzy,' her father now says feelingly, 'I can understand your apprehensions, but having children is not the end of your life. You mother never suffered much discomfort for being with child, or delivering them, and you can afford as much help as you need. You'll be back to your old self quickly, I'm sure, you're not one to sit around doing nothing.'

Frankly, that is a comfort to Fitzwilliam as well, for though he loves children and wants an heir, the very idea of Elizabeth going through the dangers of a delivery nearly sends him into a panic. His father-in-law's soothing words make him feel a little more secure about their future.

'I will be pleased to visit you at Pemberley this spring,' Mr Bennet now answers Darcy's original question. 'Thank you for the invitation. I can't wait to see your library, Darcy, I cannot imagine what it must be like to be surrounded by thousands of one's own books, of course I've been to the great libraries during my time at college, but never to a private collection.'

'It's a luxury I've come to appreciate, Mr Bennet, though of course there is a certain investment involved in time and funds.'

Their lunch finished, and the horses rested and saddled once more, they are ready for the last leg of their journey. The first hour is pleasurable, the landscape still very picturesque with snow covered lanes and cottages, the ancient trees in the middle of the villages or in distant fields sticking their bared limbs towards heaven, a few sheep and rough cattle looking for grass under the snow.

But once the sun starts to sink a bit lower, the cold gets more intense, and the trampled snow of the road becomes slippery for the horses. The carriage horses are shod with special irons, they have plenty of grip on the icy roads, but the riders keep their horses in the fields beside the road whenever that is possible, to avoid slipping and falling on the frozen snow on the roads.

Elizabeth starts to feel the physical strain of the long ride, and the unnatural position she is sitting in. Her right leg is constantly falling asleep, no matter how often she wriggles her toes to keep the blood flowing through it. Fortunately she is not cold yet, her feet are surprisingly warm in her lovely boots, and her skirts and woollen underwear keep her legs warm.

But when her father rides up to her and tells her they're less than twenty minutes from Meryton, she is very relieved, she's starting to feel very physically uncomfortable. Now other worries force themselves upon her, she will arrive very tired, and probably not fit to be seen. She knows Jane will be there, and though she doesn't actually care what either Miss Bingley or Mrs Hurst think of her, she'd rather not be seen in a state of exhaustion. But she's so tired, she just wishes she could go home to Longbourn instead of having to stay in a grand house full of strangers and unfamiliar servants.

Of course Darcy is expecting Elizabeth to feel reluctant being in company with Miss Bingley and her sister on their turf. And she is clearly very tired, he's feeling the strain of riding on frozen snow himself, and he is not sitting in an unnatural position, his one leg twisted over the horse's back, he can move both legs to keep the blood flowing.

Waving to the carriage, he rides along with Bob for a few moments, saying, 'You ride ahead Bob, you've been to Netherfield before, haven't you? We're cutting off through the fields, Mrs Darcy needs the circulation in her legs back before we arrive. We'll probably arrive before you do, we'll wait at the stables for Miss Darcy. Take care!'

Then he falls into line with Elizabeth, who is indeed wilting fast.

'We're cutting off through the fields, Elizabeth, it will be shorter and we'll be able to go faster, so you'll be warm and less stiff when we arrive. And we'll walk the last hundred yards or so, to get the circulation back in your right leg. You're my hero as well as my goddess, love, ten minutes will see us there, I know the way. Let me signal your dad and we're off.'

The next minute, they veer off the road, into the hills, the sun setting but the snow reflecting the light off the ground to clearly see where they are going. Mr Bennet says he can handle a canter, and the horses are fine, so they set off over the hills in a slow canter, eating up the miles. Elizabeth will enjoy the beauty of all this despite her fatigue, and she is still riding strongly, the increase in pace is clearly helping her keep warm and awake.

After a vigorous ride, Mr Bennet calls out, 'This is my turn-off to Longbourn, I see you two tomorrow! Good night and thank you for the ride!'

He disappears into a lane of mighty chestnuts, and they carry on together, still keeping a goodly pace.

'All right Elizabeth, you know the large field at the back of Netherfield?'

She calls back, 'I do.'

'That is where this field comes up to. I propose we give it all the horses have left, it's not even a half a mile, and it faces the drawing-room. If anyone should be looking, they'll see us arrive with pride. Are you with me? As soon as we're out of sight of the house we'll dismount and walk the rest.'

'I'm with you, love, let's do it.'

And as soon as they top the next hill and see Netherfield before them, nothing but a large open slope of fresh snow between them and a bath, Elizabeth urges Daisy into a gallop, the sturdy mare holding her footing just fine despite snow, slope, and her own fatigue.

Fitzwilliam closes the distance between them and rides side by side with her, in a flying gallop, up to the house, and when they are very close he veers to the right, Daisy following her stable-mate without Elizabeth guiding her. As soon as they reach a little lane that Elizabeth recognises from the time Jane was sick at Netherfield, Fitzwilliam slows his black horse until it stops.

'Don't stir, love, I'll help you down, you don't want to fall off for being stiff and cold.'

His arm through the rein of the black he leads it towards them, then holds out his arms to his beloved. Elizabeth unhooks her unwilling right leg, it's totally asleep by now. But to slide off the saddle into her beloved's arms is always a pleasure, and she knows Daisy will not stray too far, so she holds on to him until her leg can hold her weight once more.

Of course it is the perfect time to kiss, and Fitzwilliam answers her kiss with a relish. She does wriggle her leg a lot whilst kissing, and now it hurts with the blood returning to it, a good sign, but nonetheless very painful and distracting.

'Is something wrong, my love?' Fitzwilliam is worried, and she replies, 'My leg was asleep, it's waking now, but that is very painful. Let's kiss a little more until it is back to normal.'

Of course he indulges her, and when the pins and needles feeling has left, she takes his hand and retrieves Daisy's rein. The poor thing is tired, too, and hangs her head instead of trying to find grass under the snow. Fitzwilliam's black is not as tired, he must be used to longer rides, before Elizabeth used Daisy the mare just stood there in the stables of Pemberley, eating herself fat all day except when Peter took her out for exercise.

Together they lead the horses to the stables, where Fitzwilliam of course knows the stable-hands by name, urging them to walk both horses dry despite Daisy's unwillingness to go further.

'Just until she's breathing right, she's not used to long rides yet. The carriage will also be here any moment, Mrs Darcy and I will wait for it, walking some life back into our own frozen limbs.'

One man takes both the black and Daisy on a tour around the stables to cool down before they are fed and get their rest, while the other waits for the carriage to arrive, which cannot be long anymore.

Fitzwilliam leads Elizabeth as if she is one of those horses, entreating her to walk a little to keep supple and warm. The stable-hand waiting with them asks respectfully, apparently used to Fitzwilliam chatting with them, 'Did you ride all the way from London, Mrs Darcy, in this cold? I'm impressed, ma'am. With your permission I'll ring the bell to have a bath prepared for you, ma'am, to warm up.'

Elizabeth wants to kiss him, despite his homely face and the decided whiff of horse coming off his rough attire. Not caring how desperate she sounds, she replies as politely as he spoke.

'Yes, please, would you, Oliver? I'm not cold, but if I don't bathe I'll be stiff as a board tomorrow.'

She can use first names, too, if that helps getting a nice hot bath. Oliver is clearly pleased, and calmly walks into the building. Five minutes later, just as the sound of hooves can be heard in the dark, he returns, smiling.

'It's all arranged, Mrs Darcy, it will be ready in twenty minutes, in your own room, which Mrs Nicholls will show you as soon as you go in.'

'Thank you, Oliver, you've saved my life.'

By now it is time to walk to the front of the house towards the carriage, and as they arrive it is just turning up the lane. As soon as it stops, Bob is down from the box and with his horses. Oliver goes up to him and talks to him, as Fitzwilliam opens the door of the carriage, just before the butler opens the front door. He must have heard the sound of a carriage approaching, they were expected of course.

As Georgiana comes back towards the house with her brother, the staff is already busy unloading the little carriage, and Jane and Bingley come out to greet them.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 36

Jane is beside herself with joy to see her sister again, and Bingley also shows his gladness clearly. As Elizabeth is received at Netherfield with a warm and loving hug of her favourite sister, Darcy and Georgiana receive a similarly warm welcome from Bingley, who shakes hands with both with intense pleasure.

'It has been far too long Darcy, though you look fantastic, positively thriving and happy. Married life must agree with you.'

Darcy is also very happy to see his good friend again, he has missed his friendly face, and their comfortable closeness, though something will be different with both of them married.

'Miss Georgiana, your brother's marriage agrees with you, too, no doubt about that. Something is different about you, though I cannot say what, exactly. It'll come to me yet. You are very welcome, too, and not just to me. I have a guest who is just dying to meet you, though he will not recognise you from our descriptions. He is expecting a girl, and he will be introduced to a woman. That's it!'

Bingley is mighty pleased with himself.

'That's what is changed, you became a woman!

But please, do come in, it's cold and you'll be tired from the road. As soon as I've greeted my new sister, Mrs Darcy.'

Elizabeth hugs Bingley as if he really is her brother, this is a totally different reception from what she expected, she thrives in the informal, loving atmosphere.

Bingley looks at Elizabeth with true admiration, and asks, 'Did I see you fly down the long slope behind the house on a horse just now, Lizzy? Jane said that just wasn't possible, and I did eat quite a heavy lunch this afternoon, so I admit I may have been seeing things in the low light. Still, you're in a riding dress, and I can imagine life with Darcy can be hard if one doesn't ride.'

Bingley calling his sister-in-law, his friend's wife, Lizzy? When Darcy himself hasn't gotten past Elizabeth yet? Yet Elizabeth is not insulted or even surprised at all. She merely confirms his observation.

'I don't know about your lunch, Bingley, but I most certainly arrived on horseback. Which I can assure you I am feeling at the moment, I've muscles aching I had forgotten about since our first week at Pemberley during our honeymoon.'

'A bath is being filled for you as we speak. Let's go in, I'll tell you how much I admire you when you've recovered a little. Did you meet Mr Bennet in town, did he arrive in good health? And did he return with you as he planned?'

Bingley has taken Elizabeth's arm, and Jane is talking to Georgiana in a surprisingly familiar way, so Darcy takes his wife's other arm, a support she gladly accepts, though her touch is light, she's still walking by herself.

'My father did indeed show up one afternoon, we had a good time together, and he came back with us, until he turned off towards Longbourn not half an hour ago.'

'I should have informed him that his first son-in-law would not be staying with us, I feel responsible for driving him out of his home.'

Elizabeth smiles at her friendly brother and soothes him, 'I assure you he did not reproach you with anything. Fitzwilliam made it up to him by showing my father the library, after which he forgot every discomfort or fear for his own library.'

'That is a relief to hear, I was afraid he'd blame me, though Jane said he wouldn't. I have to admit I'm still a bit afraid of his sarcasm.'

Ha, so Darcy was not the only one to fear his father-in-law!

'Shall we leave you to freshen up for an hour or so in your own rooms, then meet for tea and a nice long chat to catch up? I'm afraid Caroline is here, Darcy, but I suppose she will have to get used to matters as they are now sooner or later.

And my other sister, and a new friend of mine, Mr Manners, who is eager to meet all of you.

Mrs Nicholls planned to give you separate adjoining rooms, but Jane insisted you'd want to share one, which is of course what we would want. I trust she knows you best, Lizzy?

Your maid and valet have already taken charge of your essentials, so I guess you'll find your room arranged exactly as you like it. See you in an hour!'

Georgie will be feeling a bit lost in a strange house, they need to talk to her before they retreat for their bath.

'My younger sister Kitty is staying here, do you want her to show you your room and keep you company while you freshen up a little?'

Jane is obviously doing her best to make Georgie feel at home, and to Darcy's surprise Georgie accepts!

'I'd love her company, yes. Fanny will be helping me, but I've been wanting to get to know Kitty better since we met. I want to run with the young crowd on the wedding.'

That earns her a sweet smile from Miss Bennet, and Kitty soon comes out of hiding and greets Georgie, the two going upstairs talking and laughing. Georgie with another girl? Darcy cannot believe it.

'Kitty has improved a lot since Lydia went away,' Miss Bennet tells him with one of her ravishing smiles. 'Well, and since you took Lizzy away from father, for he has started to spend some time on her instead. That worked wonders.'

So something good came of Mr Bennet's greatest loss, that makes Darcy feel slightly less guilty about taking his favourite daughter from him. Though his father-in-law must also be relieved to see Elizabeth loved, and forever protected from want.

'If you'll excuse me, Miss Bennet, I think I'll help your sister into her bath and give her a massage to keep her from stiffening up with muscle cramps.'

'Could you manage to call me Jane, Mr Darcy? My sister loves you more than anyone in this world, I'd like to close the distance between us a little.'

'I will, if you'll do like Elizabeth does Bingley, and just call me by my last name like all my friends.'

'It will be weird, but I'll try.'

'That is all I can ask, Jane. We'll be brother and sister for years, plenty of time to practise.'

As if by agreement, Elizabeth looks at him, and he kisses her, then lifts her bodily and carries her up the stairs, Simon awaiting them there to lead them to a different room from the one he used to have here, a much larger room with a double bed and a dressing-room attached.

The bath is ready, their things are as good as ready, Fanny is still hanging out Elizabeth's gorgeous gowns, but as soon as they enter she stops what she is doing, curtsies for Elizabeth and says, humbly, 'I've only finished hanging out your gowns, ma'am, I've not yet managed to ready your dress for after your bath. I'm sorry.'

Elizabeth seems struck by Fanny's demure attitude.

'We've only just arrived, Fanny, you must be tired yourself. The master and I will be engaged for nearly an hour, why don't you knock in forty-five minutes and I'll be ready for you in my dressing-gown. You can choose a dress and accessories then. Make sure you get some rest, too, Fanny.

Simon, you know more about travelling with the master than Fanny does, will you see her settled and allowed a little rest herself?'

'Yes, ma'am, I do, and I will. I've been here before with the master, and I know Mrs Nicholls and the staff. Do I accompany Fanny to assist the master?'

'Yes, please, Simon. He will need your help to tie his cravat perfectly, or I'll be blamed for letting him grow slovenly. Thank you, both of you, and let us know if anything doesn't go well in your own quarters.'

Both servants bow, and leave the room. Darcy is left, stunned at his beloved's sudden authority. But that is just the beginning...

'Now, Mr Darcy, you can undress me and help me into the bath. Don't stand there, looking foolish, get to work! A cold bath won't loosen me up.'

She's right, of course, but every time she calls him Mr Darcy his legs just seem to give out. He quickly starts on her short coat, but cannot help getting distracted all the time, she's so gorgeous, and so tempting. She smells of horse, of course, but Darcy likes that, especially mingled with her own irresistible scent.

Keeping a tight hold on himself, the water must not get cold, they'll have some time afterwards, he removes the coat, her dress, then she sits on the bed and he removes her boots and her long woollen underwear. She thinks they must dampen his ardour, but in fact he finds them very enticing, not in themselves, but the removing of them, slowly exposing her bare flesh. When she is totally naked, he restrains himself admirably and requests she take off his coat, so he can lift her in the bath without spoiling it.

Coat removed, shirt removed for good measure, Darcy lifts his beloved in the bath, his touch already hurts her, she's stiffening rapidly, but the water is not too hot to lower her in it straight away.

She is caressing his bare chest even as she sighs in satisfaction, feeling the heat envelop her. Stiff or not, she seems very heated, and the bath is large enough for two.

Darcy quickly undresses, leaving items of clothing lying about, not his habit, but it cannot be helped this once, and joins his beloved in her warm bath.

Starting with her legs, he massages her poor abused muscles, especially the right leg that was held immobile by the saddle, but the other one, too. As he gathers in her legs, the rest of her disappears under water until her head is the only part above it, but she seems to like the warm dunking, feeling him up as he tries to knead some flexibility back into her.

He is still rather good at ignoring the insistence of his body that he needs to take her, now, in this very bath, and with utmost discipline he massages her legs until she no longer flinches at a firm touch. Then he gently turns her around in the bath until she is sitting against him, her legs back in the warm water.

Still exercising discipline, he massages her thighs, her stomach, her arms, her shoulders, before he allows himself to even touch her breasts, and slip his hand between her thighs to explore a part of her he hopes hasn't suffered from a day in the saddle.

Her gasp of ardour proves it hasn't, and one of her hands groping behind her to stroke him and grasp a part of him that makes him groan proves she is as heated as he is. Since the water has cooled unpleasantly anyway, and the room is nice and warm with a superb fire, they leave the bath, Elizabeth supple enough to get out without his help, dry each other off, and hit the bed.

Despite the fire, it is very cosy beneath the blankets, and they start fondling and kissing and tasting each other almost immediately, they are so excited by their intimacies in the bath. Darcy is also very heated with keeping his ardour contained all the time, it's time to let it out, and he does.

He pins his much smaller beloved under his tall, strong body, and she immediately gives herself up to him, eager for his attentions, opening herself to him. But somehow that doesn't feel right, he liked it so much better when she bossed him around just now. His frantic lust leaves him, and when she looks at him in surprise at his sudden change of heart, he begs her, 'Will you please call me Mr Darcy again, and give me some more orders? I like that a lot, it gives me the shivers, good ones.'

A knowing look appears on her beautiful face, and she says, in the same voice she used to address Fanny, but much less friendly, much stricter, 'And frankly, Mr Darcy, you need it. You have had your own way all your life, it's time you learned to obey someone instead of having everyone running around to please you.'

It does give him the shivers, and his stiffly erected member tries to stand up a little more, but it is already giving all it has. It merely moves up and down a bit, anticipating what will come next.

'Your massage was excellent, but your manners can use some improvement, you do not show me the proper respect. So, Mr Darcy, why don't you start by sitting down between my legs, and stroking my poor bottom gently. It has borne the brunt of the hardships I've faced today, and you never gave it any of your attention just now.'

Having indeed moved down under the blankets to sit between his beloved's legs, he realises he did! He did totally forgot her poor behind, and it did indeed bear most of the abuse of a whole day in the saddle.

'I'm sorry ma...'

'Silence, Mr Darcy! I did not give you permission to speak.'

Why is this the most exciting thing that ever happened to him? Is he hopelessly insane?

He does not speak again, but rather drapes Elizabeth's shapely legs over his shoulders, the delicious softness of her women's parts tantalizingly close to where he wants them, his face, and starts to massage her shapely buttocks gently but firmly. They feel soft and pliant, they are not stiff or painful, the warm bath must have corrected his oversight.

After a few moments, the strict voice says, 'You are forgiven, you may reward yourself with a few mouthfuls of what you really want. My good man.'

Her legs still holding him, he uses both hands to open the way to her deliciously soft, most sensitive parts, his action causing her to moan softly in anticipation. Then when takes the first delightful taste, he can feel her shudder, and she encourages him, in a surprisingly decided voice, still.

'Yes, that is it, Mr Darcy, you're clearly not a hopeless case. You're very skilled, I'll just have to keep correcting your attitude, and you'll do just fine. Now turn half a circle towards me and let me have your firm, delicious manhood, it at least knows how to treat a lady, always rising before me.'

Oh, that is so good, they can do this all day, why talk at all, why have lunch, dinner, when he can have this. Suddenly, the overpowering soft and warm feeling stops, and Elizabeth observes in her normal voice, only slightly coloured with heat, 'Wait a second, you sat on a horse all day, doesn't that hurt your manhood as well? It's out there all the time, unprotected, squashed between your body and the hard saddle.'

He does not want her to stop, do all women talk while making love?

'Mr Darcy, do not make the mistake of ignoring me!'

Oh, she knows how to make a man do her bidding, and to make things worse she's continuing what she was doing to him, not caring how he will find his voice to answer her.

'It did at first ma'am, when I was still a boy. But I suppose I got used to it, and now I can sit in a saddle all day, for days, without suffering any discomfort. Thank you ma'am, for being so kind to me.'

And before she can ask anything else, or comment, he digs in once more, determined to have it all. Apparently she wants him to take her this time, for she soon lets go of his member, and he turns half a circle back and increases his efforts with a knowledgeable finger inserted where it matters.

Moving along with it, she moans and merely encourages him in her ardour.

'That is so good, right there, will you please take me very firmly as soon as this..'

She does not get to finish that sentence, for a shuddering high washes over her, and as she lies still, enjoying the aftermath of it, most likely, he covers her with his entire body after all.

Expectant of what is to come, she grips his neck in a surprisingly strong hold, and as he guides his member inside her and thrusts firmly until his stomach touches her most sensitive part, the grip tightens even more, and a tiny squeal escapes her lips.

Overcome by lust himself as he feels her warmth envelop him, he arches his back to reach her neck, then bites it gently, and he gives her as good as he has got.

That is very exhausting, but it's so good his body forces him to keep going, pushing those tiny squeals out of her again and again, until he can feel her release and hear her gasp with ecstasy.

His own release is not far off, and he chases it regardless of his lack of breath and his aching stomach muscles. And then a groan escapes him, as ecstasy washes over him, and he is totally overcome with love for his sweet, perfect little wife. But he hides it on impulse, letting his body drop well beside her instead of on top of her, and curling up as if in shame.

'I'm sorry ma'am,' he says demurely, 'I don't know what came over me. Please don't punish me, or banish me from your divine presence. I'll be a good boy from now on, I promise.'

'Oh Fitzwilliam, my love, you're unbeatable, the very best.'

She strokes his hair, her face mirroring the love he feels.

'Consider yourself forgiven, Mr Darcy, but do take care to show me the proper respect from now on. Now take me in your arms and hold me for another ten minutes, until we have to allow ourselves to be dressed, then face the world once more.'

Tonight will be her main challenge, being in company with Miss Bingley as Mrs Darcy, but she will find it much easier than she expects. She has grown so much, is so self-assured, and looks so much the sophisticated city-woman, Miss Bingley will be routed before she can think of attacking.

And then the day after tomorrow, at the wedding, she will help him face his own nemesis, George Wickham, the man fortune decided to make his brother-in-law.

They have timed their loving excellently, before they can fall asleep there is a knock on the door, and as Darcy calls out lazily, 'Five more minutes and we'll be with you,' Elizabeth kisses him, then hops out of bed and quickly puts on a dressing gown.

Reluctantly, the bed is so lovely and warm, he follows suit and puts on his own.

'You can come in now.'

Fanny takes her mistress to sit by the mirror in the dressing-room, as Simon leads his master to the opposite side of the bedroom.

'Are you decent under that?'

Simon will never learn respect, but it's Darcy's own fault, he has treated his valet with easy familiarity as long as he has been in his service, they were more like brothers than master and servant.

'I'm not.'

Coming closer, his valet sniffs, then makes a face.

'You smell as if you bathed before having your sports, what is the use of bathing if you're going to make a mess afterwards?'

That is kind of rude, Darcy should reprimand him for it, but though Simon's way of expressing himself is scandalous, he is right, Darcy smells the best part of a woman on himself, and he should clean up before getting dressed.

'You don't ride, Simon, do you?'

'I'm a city-boy, Mr Darcy, I never had the opportunity to learn.'

Of course.

'Of course, Simon. I'll explain. Riding all day stiffens up the muscles. Mrs Darcy needed the bath to keep from hurting all day tomorrow. I'll clean up at the wash-stand. Fanny will be scandalized at seeing me in my dressing gown, but she'll get used to it.'

Simon suddenly seems to realise he's been very disrespectful, even grumpy at his master.

'I'm so sorry, master, I am totally forgetting my place. You're always so nice to me and here I am, growling at you for having found love. I had no right, can you please forgive me?'

'It's not just your fault, Simon. I treated you like a brother, and suddenly I'm married. I'm truly sorry I did that to you, I'm sure we'll find a solution.'

'Thank you, master, for acknowledging my feelings. I'll mind my manners, and with your permission, I'll fetch the basin here, I'm quite sure Mrs Darcy will be less shocked with my appearance than Fanny will be with yours.'

'I'm sure you're right, Simon. Better have it your way then. We usually clean up afterwards, you know.'

'I know, master, and I'm truly glad you're finally happy.'

Having met Fanny in her dressing-gown, with nothing underneath, Elizabeth sits on the stool in front of the dressing-table and watches Fanny choose a dress for her. Of course the girl must have an idea of what her mistress should wear the first afternoon, when few of the guest have arrived, but it seems as if her new ladies' maid still has to decide on her outfit.

First Fanny hands her new underclothes, and Elizabeth puts them on without comment, it is after all what she would have done herself if she had not had a maid. Then Fanny hands her one of the country chic dresses, and a pair of older slippers, more colourful than the new, brown ones.

In fact, the only difference with the old days is, that Fanny brushes her hair to total smoothness, then puts it up in a very fashionable style, and accentuates her lips and cheekbones with a touch of powder. Dress, footwear and hat are exactly the same.

Between the brushing and the putting up of her hair, Simon walks by to fetch the wash-basin, small wonder, for Fitzwilliam did not have the time to clean up after their lovemaking. They seem to have had some kind of disagreement, Simon and his master, Elizabeth could hear Simon's voice as if he were the master instead of the servant, and now he looks positively beat.

Maybe Fitzwilliam finally corrected his valet's familiar behaviour, as much as she likes Simon, Elizabeth has never understood the lenience with which Fitzwilliam treats him, something Simon obviously knows since he is way more respectful towards Elizabeth than to his master.

When Elizabeth is dressed, and her hair is done to perfection, Fanny pulls out a new necklace from a box, a silver one this time, not very elaborate and very stylized.

The necklace does not have links, but rather forms one continuous disk with a cut out for Elizabeth's neck. It has a sort of tiny hinge with which it opens, and a fastener on the opposite side. The disk is not decorated with stones or figures, but rather with stylized patterns, a very intriguing piece that Elizabeth loves to wear.

That completes her toilette, and by now Fitzwilliam is finished as well, they will be a bit late, but Bingley will forgive them. Her beloved looks fabulous, he is wearing his shoes, of course he'll want to have them well-broken in on the day of the wedding, his trousers are as tight as ever, and his coat is as well.

It is an older coat, but one that suits him very well. There is a clear difference with an ordinary day, though, for his hair is styled very fashionably, it looks as if Fitzwilliam has just gotten out of bed after a night of revelling, when in fact he has a rather neat hairstyle that needs little attention .Simon must have spent quite some time on making it look blown about like this.

And his cravat is a veritable piece of art. Wave upon wave of white linen spills from his throat, it's an incredible difference with his normal cravat, and Elizabeth wonders whether Simon has brought larger cravats, or whether he truly is a master of pleating, starching and tying. Neither of the two would surprise her.

Elizabeth cannot but be pleased with Fanny's work, for Fitzwilliam looks at her with admiration, but he doesn't show any signs of being overwhelmed by her appearance. Good, that is perfect.

His demeanour a bit oppressed, he truly must have been rebuked, Simon looks at his mistress approvingly, still daring to address her, 'You look perfect, Mrs Darcy, not too little, and not too much.'

Elizabeth feels herself softening towards him, he may be much too familiar with his betters, he has been a great help to her to explore city life, and get over her naiveté. They all depend on his quick insight in certain situations, and Elizabeth remembers seeing him totally distraught, when they first arrived in London and Fitzwilliam pushed him to tell who were bullying him.

'Thank you, Simon,' she says to him, her voice reflecting the warmth she suddenly feels towards him. 'Fanny did a great job, as did all of you finding these treasures among the old furniture and loads of unused China. I wonder what treasures are hidden in the forgotten chambers of Pemberley, maybe we can have a hunt this spring.

And how do you manage to get so many pleats and folds in your master's cravat?'

Simon certainly feels her friendliness, and he replies softly, 'Thank you, ma'am. I've practised for years on the master, he was always very patient to let me try out a new style.'

'I'm impressed. You look very fine yourself, that livery looks as if it was designed for you.'

A knowing look from Simon.

'Don't tell me you designed it.'

A bow from Simon, and Elizabeth laughs and says, 'I might have known. The maids will undoubtedly love it. Well, we're off downstairs, do take some rest, Fanny, for I suppose you were attending to Miss Georgiana before you saw to me. Thank you for your help.'


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 37

Georgiana and Kitty are already waiting for them, and Elizabeth hugs her younger sister before they go downstairs.

'You look lovely, Lizzy! I wish I could buy my dresses in town.

I told Georgiana all about Mr Manners, he's Mr Bingley's friend and very good-looking and rich. He has an estate of his own. Mr Manners says they met in college, and lost contact until they ran into each other in London a few weeks ago and Mr Bingley invited him to the wedding.

It'll be such fun to have another gentleman to dance with at the wedding, won't it, Georgiana? He told us, Maria Lucas and me, you'll love Maria, Georgiana, Mr Manners told us he likes to dance very much.

And you'll play for us, Lizzy, won't you? Mary never plays dances like you do, though Mr Bingley says he has hired musicians for the wedding, but I thought, if Lizzy gets here maybe we can dance in the evening, you know, to practise.'

Georgiana is smiling at Kitty's ranting, Elizabeth can only hope she will be able to bear the constant chattering. And if not, that she'll use her piano studies as an excuse to have some peace and quiet.

'I have a few dances I need to practise playing for my piano lessons, Kitty,' Georgiana offers. 'And my teacher asked Elizabeth to practise them, too, so there will plenty of opportunity to dance. If you have enough gentlemen, for Mr Manners is only one partner, wouldn't you need at least three?'

'I remember now, Georgiana, you play so beautifully, and you did play some dances for us in London. But you're right about the gentlemen, how will we find enough men to dance with?'

'I'm sure I can oblige you, Miss Catherine, if your sister is treating us to a dance with my sister.'

Kitty is almost in shock to hear Fitzwilliam offer to dance with her, but she has enough confidence to accept his kindness.

'Thank you very much, Mr Darcy, if Mr Bingley joins in too, we'll have enough gentlemen. Come, let's meet Mr Manners!'

Of course Darcy is familiar with most of the rooms at Netherfield, and Kitty certainly isn't enough company to make him shy or reticent, but somehow he feels more a visitor here than he ever did. Maybe it's because Kitty almost seems to live here, or maybe being with Georgiana and Elizabeth instead of with Bingley makes the difference.

Seeing this place again does remind him of the last time he was here, determined to know what Miss Elizabeth thought of him, encouraged by his aunt's visit but still so very afraid to find rejection instead of love.

And that time when Elizabeth cared for Jane when she was ill, when a thin inclination, as Elizabeth then called a feeling that perfectly described his budding preference for her, flared up to a full-blown attachment under her delightful conversation. How afraid he was that she would claim any sign of admiration in him as proof of her having power over him, his previous experiences with ladies causing him to keep his distance and behave disdainfully towards her.

And all this time she actually disliked him, his behaviour building on her dislike until she was eager to believe every lie Wickham told her about him.

Before he can fret himself into melancholy over the past, he can feel Elizabeth's hand giving him a little squeeze, and when he looks at her she smiles at him.

'Last time I walked here I felt like an unwanted intruder, Bingley was the only person who treated me with any kindness. It's very weird to think of how I saw you then, and look at you walking beside me now, holding my hand, the love of my life.'

That's it, Kitty and Georgie will have to wait, Elizabeth needs an embrace, and frankly, he may need it even more himself.

Wrapped in his arms, her face on his chest, he kisses her behind her ear and whispers, 'I was having similar thoughts, my love. How I learned to love you during your stay here, but treated you with the barest civility.'

He can't speak for a moment, but he doesn't need to, Elizabeth looks up at him with love in her eyes, and ruffles his hair.

Never mind the past, Fitzwilliam,' she says, just as softly. 'I suppose we'll make ourselves some nice new memories the coming week, my love.'

And she is right.

'Better be prepared, Elizabeth,' he replies, 'if Caroline Bingley slights you or says anything less than polite to or about you, I'll make it up to you there and then by kissing you, or holding you. I am determined that you will feel loved in this house.'

They cannot keep Georgiana and Kitty waiting any longer, and follow Kitty to the drawing-room where they are received warmly by Bingley.

'You must be very hungry, I have had some tea prepared to tide you over until dinner, but first let me introduce you to my old friend Mr Manners. He has been staying with us for some time now, and he will celebrate our wedding with all of us.

Since he has kept in contact with a few other year mates from college, we'll have a merry party, they'll arrive tomorrow. The Hertfordshire ladies will be thrilled to have choice of men to dance with.'

The only person in the room that Darcy doesn't know now comes towards them to be introduced, and after Kitty's raving report on Mr Manners that gentleman is a bit of a disappointment.

He is in his mid twenties, rather average in height, and actually rather plain, though he seems good humoured. His style of dressing is unobtrusive, in muted colours and a conservative style, as if he prefers not to be noticed. He is perfectly polite, though, and seems very friendly.

They exchange the usual civilities, being introduced by Bingley, and as Mr Manners proves himself a true gentleman by his conversation, Darcy takes a closer look at his new acquaintance's clothes, finding what seemed to be inconspicuous actually made of very fine quality cloth, and very expertly cut and put together. There is more to the man than meets the eye.

As Mr Manners talks a little more to Elizabeth, Darcy looks about the room to see Hurst lying on a sofa, as usual, and Jane and both Bingley's sisters sitting together, chatting, Jane busy with some needlework, Mrs Hurst playing with her bracelets as she usually does, and Miss Bingley studiously avoiding meeting his eye. Well, that is no hardship to Darcy.

Bingley now triumphantly proceeds, 'And Manners, now you can tell me whether I have said too much in praise of Miss Darcy. I may have praised her too little, for in fact she has grown even more beautiful in our months of separation. Miss Darcy, Mr Manners has been dying to meet you, and when he knew you were expected today, he begged me to introduce him as an avid reader and a great admirer of the music of the classical composers.

When I told him you were the best piano-player I ever heard, he just couldn't believe it of a sixteen year old girl, and he cannot wait to hear you prove it to him.'

Bingley's friend has the grace to look a little embarrassed at Bingley's exorbitant introduction, and he receives Georgie handsomely, kissing her hand instead of shaking it. Georgie seems pleased, and less shy than she would usually be, she has changed indeed, if she can handle such obvious flattery.

'I thank you for your compliments, Mr Bingley. Pleased to meet you, Mr Manners, and I'm very certain you will have ample opportunity of hearing me play the coming week. I have to practise very regularly, the price of excellence.'

Darcy is glad the introductions are over, he's very hungry and the servant is already making up a few beautiful plates of delicious looking pies and cold meats.

But first, he is going to greet everyone in the room, and make sure they acknowledge Elizabeth with more than a nod or a curtsey. Well, except Mr Hurst, he's fast asleep and of no interest to Elizabeth.

As Mr Manners leads Georgie to a seat and offers to bring her tea and a few dainties, Kitty tagging along, Darcy approaches Miss Bingley and her sister to shake hands. Jane looks at Elizabeth in anticipation of the coming days, in which they will be able to catch up and renew their intimacy, and of course Elizabeth is feeling much the same, her face soft and open.

Miss Bingley can now ignore the newcomers no longer, and she shakes hands with Darcy with a forced look of happiness. It is obvious she is in mental agony seeing the man she persisted in trying to win against all odds and signals. Suddenly, despite never having encouraged her, Darcy feels sorry for his friend's sister, and he addresses her in a much friendlier manner than he intended.

'Miss Bingley, it has been awhile since we last met in London. Have you been well?'

Of course he can see she hasn't, but he cannot help that custom demands he inquire after her health and happiness. To his surprise and shock she replies quite frankly.

'As well as can be expected, Mr Darcy, thank you for asking. I need not ask how you are doing, for I saw you race down yonder slope with your lady wife, such a magnificent sight, the fading light illuminating the two horses via the unblemished snow underneath their hooves.

Mrs Darcy's horse seemed to glow in the setting sun, and you both sat your horses so proud and unafraid despite the snow and the flying speed.

You've truly found your match, Mr Darcy, I know how much you love riding.'

Did he really hear that?

'Mrs Darcy, I cannot believe you rode all the way from London today. Why, that must be four hours at the very least, but you might as well have just returned from an hour's ride, you look ravishing, and not just because you are wearing a stunning dress.

Married life agrees with you, am I right?'

Elizabeth must be stunned inside to be noticed and complimented by Miss Bingley, but her outside is very dignified and calm.

'Thank you, Miss Bingley, you are indeed right, Mr Darcy and I have found our union very rewarding. I'm glad you cannot see the length of our journey from my posture, for I assure you, every single muscle I have is telling me it was a foolish thing to do, ride all the way from London. Though it was beautiful, too.

I'm sorry to hear you have not been perfectly well, I hope your situation will improve soon.'

Something profound seems to be going on between the two ladies.

'I'm sure it will, Mrs Darcy. I've seen what I needed to see, and now I am looking forward to my brother and your sister's wedding very much. I've never met my brother's college friends, but if they are all like Mr Manners, I will be very pleased to make new acquaintances.'

Well, Elizabeth seems to understand, she'll explain no doubt. Better shake hands with Mrs Hurst quickly, then finally get some food.

Georgiana seems quite comfortable with Kitty and Mr Manners, eating daintily and listening to Mr Manners' lively conversation. A look at Elizabeth convinces him she wants to sit with her eldest sister, even if that means sitting with Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst as well.

As soon as they sit down, the servant hands each of them a plate with a choice of the food, and without further ado, Darcy starts digging in. Elizabeth doesn't hesitate to eat well, either, she must be hungry having ridden so far on just a lunch. Before long they have finished their portion, and Darcy signals the servant for seconds. Elizabeth has had enough, of course she's much smaller, she usually eats less. The servant takes her plate, and Elizabeth is ready for a nice, though not very intimate chat with a sister she has missed not nearly enough the last two months.

'My dearest Lizzy, it makes me so incredibly glad to see you obviously thriving,' Jane says in an outburst of feeling that is very rare for her. Elizabeth feels a bit guilty for having been so absorbed in her new life as to almost forget about her sister at home. They have written, of course, but they used to talk intimately for hours, and that all seems lost now. That must be the only disadvantage of both marrying a man of fortune, seeing Miss Bingley and her sister comfortably living together.

'To see you arrive on horseback, dressed in the height of fashion, and this beautiful dress, too. I'm glad you haven't put on London airs, though.'

Touched by Jane's kindness and compliments, Elizabeth nonetheless replies in the expected manner.

'I'm saving those for the wedding, my dear Jane. They're too good to waste on a simple evening in the company of friends and family.'

'Oh, Elizabeth, how I've missed you! And papa, too, he's been almost downhearted. How have you been, how is life as a married woman?'

'Strangely enough, rather busy. Getting to know each other, getting to know the house, the staff and the grounds, and then another house, different staff. But we haven't quarrelled yet, have we, Mr Darcy?'

Either the very idea of quarrelling, or Elizabeth's repeated use of his last name, causes Fitzwilliam to stop devouring everything on his plate, he must really be hungry, and look at her in true shock.

'Quarrelling with you, my love? Whatever would I want to do that for? There are so many much more pleasant things we can do together. Besides, I'd lose anyway, you're too smart for me.'

He looks positively smitten, so endearing, until his face turns sly and he remarks slowly and with great emphasis, 'But wait, I forgot. If we quarrel, we have to make up afterwards, and that would be mighty interesting. Maybe we should have a fight, Elizabeth, I'm sure the reconciliation would be worth the trouble.'

Jane looks as if she is going to melt on the spot, hearing the silent, reticent man her sister married about two months ago giving as good as he gets, bantering with relish, calling his wife by her first name in public. The difference is remarkable even to Elizabeth, for this is the very drawing-room where she wondered why he looked at her so often when he clearly didn't care for her company.

And now he is showing his feelings openly, and obviously enjoying himself. Knowing herself to be the main cause of this change for the better, Elizabeth cannot help but feel for Miss Bingley, to have to witness the man she desired happy with another, and that other someone she hated from the first, that is kind of brutal.

She has not fled the room, yet, but she is showing her pain a little, and Elizabeth has to rationally decide not to feel bad for her. Had their situations been reversed, Miss Bingley would undoubtedly have rubbed in her victory mercilessly.

'May I steal Lizzy from you for a few hours the coming weeks, Mr Darcy? We have so much to catch up on.'

'Of course you may, Miss Bennet, I'm sure you are both aching to open your hearts to one another, I just entreat both of you to be kind when you are discussing me.'

That's Fitzwilliam, he's not going to be familiar with Jane if she doesn't start. Or maybe they are both more formal because they are in company.

Meanwhile, Georgiana can't wait to get her hands on the piano, but she has no clue when it would be appropriate to start tuning. She'll probably be busy for an hour or so, and she really wants Elizabeth involved, but this room will be in near constant use. And when it's not in use, Georgiana herself is supposed to be wherever the party is at that moment.

Mr Manners can see she is distracted, he is a very nice man, polite, truly interested in Georgiana, but he's not as handsome as Kitty presented him, not nearly as handsome as Fitzwilliam or Eric, or Simon, for that matter, maybe Georgiana just has too many handsome men in her direct circle.

Still, Mr Manners is a true gentleman, with a nice estate somewhere between London and Derbyshire, and obviously intelligent and feeling. He seems very well-read, but not judgemental to find Georgiana more interested in music, and rather knowledgeable on the subject of music as well.

His clothing is very well-made, of expensive material, but in muted colours, not as charming as Eric's, but of course Eric is a performer, he needs to dress really well.

'Will you play for us, Miss Darcy?' Mr Manners asks, always a good way to score with Georgiana.

'I suppose I need to, I haven't practised yet. But the piano here is always slightly out of tune, and I was hoping to get a chance to tune it before I use it.'

'You can tune your own instrument? That is a very rare and useful skill, Miss Darcy.'

'Most people wouldn't hear the problem, Mr Manners, I'm a bit over-sensitive in matters of the ear, but Mrs Darcy and I have recently learned to tune, so if we can find an hour to be alone with the piano we'll fix it. And then I'll play it.'

'Mrs Darcy, too? She is a remarkable lady indeed. I can challenge the men to a game of billiards, I suppose it won't be so bad if the ladies can see you at work?'

'Would you do that for me, Mr Manners? That is extraordinarily kind of you! But I'm afraid Mrs Darcy will mind Miss Bingley's and Mrs Hurst's presence, we'll be bending over the instrument, you see, it's not a very decent occupation to witness.'

Without showing any improper reaction to her admission, Mr Manners smiles in a very friendly way and offers, 'I suppose if I invite the ladies to watch, they'll come with us. And Mr Hurst, though I have observed he is not fond of physical activities in general.

Do you want me to suggest it now?'

'Maybe wait until my brother has finished his tea, he loves billiards against an unknown opponent, though he has been on a horse all day. I'll fetch my gear, I cannot wait to get to work. Thank you so much for your kind offer, Mr Manners.'

'My pleasure, Miss Darcy, I very much wish to hear you play. But you have been travelling all day yourself, aren't you tired?'

'I should be, but when it comes to music I'm instantly awake. You may very well hear me play this very evening.'

When Darcy has finished his second helping he feels much better, he'll survive until dinner easily. Miss Bingley's attitude is very surprising, he cannot help wondering whether she has really given up on being mean to Elizabeth. Of course, if she wants to visit at Pemberley she will have to be nice to its mistress, if only to her face.

Mr Manners is certainly an addition to their party, for as soon as Darcy has returned his plate to an attentive servant, Bingley's friend proposes some entertainment.

'Ladies, gentlemen, what would you say to a nice little competition in billiards?'

That is actually quite a good idea, though Elizabeth may find it rather tiring to hang about in the billiards-room.

'May I request your company, Miss Bingley?'

That is rather singular, Mr Manners asking Miss Bingley's company when he was talking away cosily with Georgie just now. But where is Georgie? Kitty is still in the room, though she has moved to the piano.

Ah. The piano. It almost seems as if Mr Manners is part of a scheme to get everyone out of the drawing-room so Georgie can tune the piano. As her new friend, Kitty can stay of course, and Elizabeth will be glad to be spared standing and watching the men play a game, but Miss Bingley is flattered and follows Mr Manners quite readily, her sister waking her husband to come along, too.

Jane and Bingley are inseparable, so all Darcy has left to do is say goodbye to his lovely lady for an hour or so, and prepare to battle it out on the baize.

Taking his beloved's hand, he wants to propose she stay behind to help Georgie with the tuning, when she observes, 'I think your sister couldn't help herself, love, and recruited Mr Manners to empty the room for her. I suppose that means I'm staying here. Imagine her daring to ask.'

'So you saw through her as well. I'd better be going, I'll see you in an hour or so. Love you,' and he kisses her very indecently, there's no-one left in the room but Kitty, who is playing the piano herself, baby-steps, but something she would never have done with Lydia ruling her.

When Georgiana returns to the room, she can see Mr Manners kept his promise, the room is empty but for Kitty and Elizabeth.

'Are you very tired, Elizabeth?' she asks, worried about her sister-in-law.

'Not too much, no,' is her reply, 'now the first awkward moments are over I'm actually fine. But I supposed you'd want me here, to help you tune that piano.'

'How did you know?'

'I have come to know you a little, Georgiana, you haven't practised today, but you cannot on an out of tune piano. Playing dances all night counts as practise with a few of them part of your homework. But I'm amazed you dared to employ Mr Manners after meeting him just now.'

Georgiana can hear this is meant as praise, not censure, but she still tells Elizabeth the truth.

'Actually, he was the one who suggested it when I told him I wasn't going to play before the piano was tuned. Do you think we'll have to ask Bingley's permission?'

'He will never know, Georgiana, he hasn't got the hearing. Just don't break any strings.'

Of course Georgiana doesn't. She's very curious to see the insides of yet another piano, and she is impressed.

'Look, Elizabeth, this lever here is even more advanced than my Buntebart, it's so cleverly made. Imagine Bingley having such a fine instrument. I can't wait to look inside the Clementi at Pemberley now, it is the latest in piano-design. I wish we could hear Eric play it.'

Elizabeth doesn't say anything, she'd probably love to hear Eric play Georgiana's best instrument, too.

After that, they set to work, and they find several of the lower keys out of tune, besides the inharmonics they expected. It takes half an hour to correct the problems, and then Georgiana checks their work with a few scales. It's fine.

'Can I do the more difficult stuff first, to get my practise in before the crowd returns? Then we can try the dances together. But first, will you show me what you remember of the variegated scales I taught you yesterday?'

Elizabeth readily plays for her sister-in-law, and with just a few corrections she is filling the room with Eric's impressive scales. The tuning has been successful, any sour keys would have revealed themselves in those scales.

Then Georgiana takes the stool and plays her homework again and again, and Elizabeth picks out a few errors, letting her know about them immediately. By the time the rest of the party returns, Elizabeth says she can no longer hear any flaws in it, and Georgiana feels ready to entertain the others with Eric's dances.

Of course Kitty wants to dance, she's actually quite a nice girl, as Fanny helped Georgiana dress, Kitty sat on the bed and chatted about Hertfordshire, and her wishes and hopes for the future, and of course Mr Manners, who apparently made quite an impression on Elizabeth's younger sister.

Mr Manners is pleased to oblige Miss Catherine with a dance, and Fitzwilliam keeps his promise to do his share of the dancing, starting of course with his lovely wife. Bingley immediately joins in with Jane, and even Mr Hurst exerts himself for once, Georgiana has never seen him dance before.

But then, Fitzwilliam never used to dance unless forced to, maybe it's Mr Manners' influence, he seems to create a kind of loose atmosphere in the entire party.

After one of Eric's dances, the gentlemen change partners, Elizabeth joins Georgiana at the piano, she's supposed to learn them too, after all. One just doesn't deny a master his due, Georgiana counts on her sister practising them as seriously as herself.

Fitzwilliam dances with Kitty next, and Mr Manners invites Miss Bingley to join the party. Mrs Hurst and Jane exchange partners, apparently Jane's attractions can tempt Mr Hurst to tire himself a little longer. Dinner will taste all the better for it.

The next dance is surprising, for indolent Mr Hurst fetches Elizabeth from behind the piano with a smile and a polite bow.

'Mrs Darcy, will you do me honour of dancing with me?'

Her sister is very surprised, but accepts with witty charm.

'Why Mr Hurst, I didn't know you were such an avid dancer, and I've seen you perform really well just now. Of course I'll accept.'

Georgiana can just catch his next sentence, 'I would have danced with you before, had it not been certain to cause a domestic dispute. I'm an indolent man, Mrs Darcy, I generally don't like the exertion of dancing. But I like the exertion of quarrelling with my wife even less.' And he smiles positively charmingly.

Elizabeth clearly cannot help showing her surprise, but she quickly covers it with a smile of her own. Mr Hurst being charming, who would've thought it.

Mr Manners invites Jane for the next dance, and Bingley stands up with Kitty, which leaves Miss Bingley to sit out a dance as Fitzwilliam engages Mrs Hurst. Georgiana cannot see how she takes it, she doesn't know there dances by heart yet and needs to read the sheet music before her, but Georgiana does find a tiny bit of empathy for Caroline Bingley. After that dance, it's Georgiana's turn to be begged by Mr Manners to stand up with him, and as Miss Bingley takes her place at the piano, she has a very enjoyable dance with a true gentleman.

Fitzwilliam is dancing with Elizabeth once more, and Georgiana is happy he has escaped dancing with Miss Bingley this time.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 38

After dinner, Elizabeth is really tired, but she supposes Jane will want to have a nice, long chat.

'You look very tired, dear Lizzy, I suppose you'll want to turn in early? Don't feel obliged to stay up for me, we'll have plenty of time to catch up tomorrow, when you return from your visit to Longbourn. Will you be going on horseback?'

Visit to Longbourn? Whatever for? Papa did say 'See you tomorrow' when he rode off towards home, but surely he was planning to visit Netherfield the next day, to play billiards with the men and escape from Wickham?

'Lizzy, don't tell me you weren't planning to visit mama! She'll feel very much neglected if you don't visit, you know. It's bad enough that Mr Darcy won't want to come, but you have to wait on her, you're an adult now, you know, you should mind your manners.'

She's right of course, her father was alluding to the two of them coming to visit. Fitzwilliam not coming will be a terrible offence to his mother-in-law, but Elizabeth has to go, despite her having not the faintest inclination to see either her mother, or Lydia or Wickham.

'Thank you for reminding me of my duties, once again, dear Jane. I'll never have your natural sensibility for these matters, I'll admit it never occurred to me mama would be expecting a visit from us. Fitzwilliam will not be pleased, and I cannot expect him to come, but I'll have to go of course. How will I ever measure up to my status as a lady, Jane, if I cannot think of these things myself?'

'Oh, dear Lizzy, now don't be so hard on yourself, you'll learn. I'll help you along as long as you're here, and after that? Well, your husband is very rich, so I guess he can hire you a governess.'

Dear Jane! Telling her it isn't all her fault for never having had a proper education. But Elizabeth cannot forgive herself so easily, and they do already employ someone in their town house who is as good as a governess, or better. Some of Elizabeth's time will have to be spent with Mrs Annesley, to learn the finer points of proper behaviour, something Jane has always instinctively understood, but Elizabeth apparently needs to be taught.

'Thank you once again for reminding me, Jane, and for excusing me tonight, I am tired and would prefer to get a good night's sleep, especially if I have to face Lydia and Wickham tomorrow. I suppose you'll take good care of Fitzwilliam and Georgiana when I'm away?'

'Of your sister I will, but your husband can take care of himself very well, dear Lizzy. You know that as well as I do.'

A penetrating look from Jane.

'You don't? That's ludicrous, Lizzy, he was a respectable gentleman when you still played with dolls, he'll be perfectly fine. If you insist, I'll keep an eye on him as well, but I'm certain you are mistaken.'

'I suppose you're right, I just feel very protective of him around Miss Bingley. She has been imposing on him for years.'

Jane is very understanding, as usual, and proves she can observe people, too.

'I think your Mr Darcy is not going to allow that to happen anymore, dear Lizzy, he has already set a few very clear boundaries and he will stick to them. He seems to love you even more than Bingley loves me.'

That last is said almost in a whisper.

'Bingley always knew you returned his affection, dear Jane, though some tried to convince him otherwise I think his subconscious was stubborn and kept faith in you. But there was a time I truly hated Fitzwilliam, and I think that realisation made him love me more than anything.'

By now, Fitzwilliam is approaching, and he is obviously ready for some sleep.

'You look as tired as I feel, my love, shall we turn in? I'll need my wits about me if we're to ride to your parents tomorrow, though in fact I prefer to meet Wickham at Longbourn for the first time. The fewer people present, the better.

I wouldn't want to spoil your wedding after all, Jane, by publicly strangling my brother-in-law.'

Does everybody understand these conventions better than Elizabeth? She has always been so proud of her quick mind and intelligence, but apparently they are of no use at all when it comes to good manners.

'You plan to go along?'

Jane cannot hide her surprise, and Fitzwilliam delights in having caused her to betray an emotion, he smiles at her with distinct charm.

'What else can I do? Mrs Bennet is due a visit from her daughter and son-in-law. Besides, she has ever disliked me, and if I slight her even more not even my riches will be able to make up for that.

I mean to win her, to get her to like me, and though I am at a disadvantage for earning her dislike at the start of our acquaintance, and marrying her least favourite daughter, I have one huge advantage, and I intend to exploit it to its utmost.

I've had my valet choose her an impressive gift, and I'll be wearing my very best coat but one. I'm saving the best one for your wedding, of course.'

'I told you so, Lizzy. Darcy can take care of himself.'

Jane rubbing it in? This must be the effect of fatigue, it cannot be happening.

'Thank you for your confidence, Jane,' Fitzwilliam replies, 'but I'm very relieved to have your sister along all the same. I'm not looking forward to being nice to George Wickham, not at all. I still want to smack him in the face for what he did to Georgie, and for the lies he told about me. But there was a time when we were good friends, and he depended on me. I'm going to remember those in order to restrain myself and even treat him nicely to his face.

You will be proud of me, Elizabeth. And you, too, Jane.'

With a laugh, they part, leaving Georgiana in the care of Jane and Kitty, she is not ready to go to bed yet.

But they will not find sleep, yet, for when they get upstairs, Fanny and Simon are waiting to help them get ready for the night.

Resigned by now, Elizabeth allows Fanny to help her out of her dress and into her dressing-gown, while Darcy of course has Simon to attend to his fashionable outfit. Elizabeth asks Fanny how she has been received by the Netherfield staff, and the girl replies readily.

'Mrs Nicholls is very nice, ma'am, as are the other regular staff. I'm not a girl to idle, I've not been your maid for very long and I find it hard to just sit and chat while others work, so I offered to help out wherever help was wanted, and I made myself useful polishing some silver and removing some nasty stains from the table-cloths and mending a few frayed seams.

Of course the other lady's maids and the valets didn't appreciate that, but I can chat and keep my hands busy at the same time. They didn't dare scorn me for it, somehow being your personal maid gives a lot of standing, even Miss Bingley's maid let me be, despite her being my senior and quite accomplished at her work.

They had all kinds of questions for me, personal questions, impertinent actually, but I managed to evade answering them quite easily. Mrs Annesley prepared me really well for just this, I never used to talk so much, I never had the time, if she hadn't taught me how to talk entertainingly but not say anything pertinent I might have inadvertently given them something to gossip about.

Simon is very popular, that may have helped, too, he introduced me as you asked, and made sure I was comfortable. He seems to be some kind of leader among the personal servants, he even looks like a prince in his livery, he wears it so proudly. He's been giving me some advice as well, but so far I haven't needed it, being a city girl and good-looking is apparently plenty of reason to gain respect.

Well, besides being Mrs Darcy's maid of course, they all wanted to know where you got the necklace, and whether you had any more treasures like that. I didn't tell them we found them in a drawer, Simon told them they were priceless family-pieces, which I suppose is true enough.

Shall I brush your hair before you go to sleep? It's nice and relaxing.'

Mrs Annesley was right, if Elizabeth is to have a maid, Fanny is the best choice for being unlikely to gossip. What if she had described yesterday's scene, with Simon scolding his master, and Fitzwilliam not even taking him to task about it?

'And did you get to see Bob? Was he comfortable as well?'

'Yes, ma'am, thank you so much for asking, he'll be pleased to hear you thought of him. He knows the stable-hands here, and he seems to be as respected as Simon among his own group, and even among the other servants, excepting the personal servants, they look down upon the rest for some reason. The ladies' maids and the valets both, maybe because they tend to be city-bred. Well, I'm not going to be part of that, not even if I can stay a personal maid from now on.

There now, ma'am, your hair is as soft and shiny as ever, your dress is airing out, and your riding dress is clean and will be dry tomorrow morning.'

'Thank you, Fanny, I'd like to wear it first thing tomorrow morning, but the master or I will ring for you, no need to wait for us at the door.'

Being helped to undress is not an unfamiliar occurrence to Darcy, and Simon and himself soon fall back into their old routine.

'How are things for you at Netherfield, Simon? Are you being treated well?'

'Certainly, master, the staff know me of course, and have ever treated me with great respect. Miss Ragwort very much appreciated the extra attention I lavished on her, she didn't even snub Fanny, apparently being Mrs Darcy's maid is quite something.

Bob was pretty comfortable, though a little less cosy with his Fanny than Cook allows in our communal quarters at home. He's a smart fellow, and he gets more respect than one would expect from a homely country boy, I gather it's because you own the best team they know of and Bob gets to drive them.

Tomorrow I'll give you a report on the gossip Mrs Darcy's first appearance generated. Violet, that's Miss Ragwort's first name, her mother must have loved flowers but I think it's a mean thing to do to one's daughter, Violet brags Miss Bingley tells her everything. So be prepared for tomorrow, master.

Oh, and Fanny really knows how to keep her thoughts to herself, the other servants tried to milk her for information, you know, personal things, but she artfully distracted them from their quest for knowledge.

And how was your day, master?'

Just like the old times, it's not exactly as if Darcy has missed talking to Simon just before turning in, but there is no harm in indulging him for now, Fanny is still busy and Simon is so anxious not to overstep his new role.

'It was fine. Miss Darcy settled well, Caroline Bingley behaved well to Mrs Darcy on their first encounter, and Miss Bennet truly is an excellent lady of the house, even before the marriage.

I'm going on a morning visit with Mrs Darcy, and I want to look my very best. Can you take care of that tomorrow, Simon?'

'Of course master, will you ring the bell?'

When both servants have left, Elizabeth is eager to lie in his arms under their lovely warm blanket, just enjoying each other's presence, stroking and kissing a little, but very lazily.

'Dear Jane,' Elizabeth says softly, 'she's just perfect for this, such a gracious lady of the house. You know I never thought of visiting my mother.'

'Then it's lucky I did,' Darcy teases her.

'Why didn't you tell me?'

'Well, I didn't know you had forgotten, did I?'

'No, you didn't, my love, it's not your fault I didn't think of it. I just feel awful to lack a sense of propriety, somehow Jane understands these things naturally, but I don't. How can I be a worthy Mrs Darcy if I just don't seem to get it? Did you really get my mother a present?'

He was just teasing her and now she feels bad. That was not his intent, he doesn't care three straws about propriety, he wants his beloved and nothing else.

'Actually, Simon did that, but I asked him to. It's a beautiful little mantle-clock with gold-leaf ornamentation. He assures me she'll love it.

And my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth, I love you and no other. Suppose you did have Jane's innate sense of propriety, what part of you would have been lost in exchange? You might have been someone completely different, someone I couldn't love. You just stay who you are, and let me love you. Preferably right now.'

The next morning they are on their way to Longbourn just after breakfast, the horses full of energy once more, and Elizabeth not stiff at all, she has really gotten used to riding.

Of course, Fitzwilliam knows the road well.

'I keep being surprised actually having you by my side, love. I used to ride this with Bingley, the morning you accepted me I was so nervous, my horse felt it and started to fidget.'

'I was nervous, too. Are you nervous now?'

'I'm not. When I'm not in a large crowd I'm fine meeting Wickham, and anyway, with you by my side I can face anything.'

Before they know it they arrive, the stable-boy takes their horses and Elizabeth knocks. Their butler opens, and greets Elizabeth heartily, 'Miss Elizabeth, of course I should say Mrs Darcy now! You are expected.'

Darcy gets a very polite bow.

'Mr Darcy, please follow me to the drawing-room.'

Even with Lydia and Wickham staying over, the family-party seems much reduced, and Darcy greets his father-in-law with a hearty handshake, his mother-in-law with a handshake and a charming observation.

'Mrs Bennet, I don't need to inquire after your health for you look fantastic! I have brought you a little something from London, I hope you'll like it.'

He hands Mrs Bennet the little clock in its colourful wrapping, then kisses Lydia's hand, knowing he looks like a veritable prince with his tall figure, handsome face, and stunning coat.

'Mrs Wickham, you are trying to out-glow Mrs Bennet, marriage clearly agrees with you.'

Stunned by his open friendliness, Lydia returns the compliment, still eyeing him with admiration.

'You don't look half bad yourself, Mr Darcy, you must be as happy in your marriage as I am.'

Lydia clearly is very happy, but Wickham, though well-mannered as always, isn't as insincerely friendly as usual. He actually looks rather downhearted, though he tries to make an effort to be lively. Darcy forces himself to meet Wickham's eye, he just cannot manage to shake his hand.

'Mr Wickham,' is all Darcy can think of. He still has nothing to say to this man.

'Mr Darcy,' of course Wickham cannot treat Darcy with familiarity after such a greeting, his brother-in-law is way above him, but somehow it seems as if he doesn't even want to be familiar. They both bow, then Darcy greets Miss Mary with grave politeness, just as she would prefer it, which she even notices.

'Miss Mary, you will visit us at Pemberley this summer, won't you? You'll love the library there.'

Mary thanks him for the offer and promises she will come, she is very curious.

'Papa told me about your library in London, Mr Darcy, and he said the one at Pemberley is three times the size?'

'It is, Miss Mary, we have a special bell in the library to announce dinner, since people tend to lose track of time there.'

Having greeted her daughter and undoubtedly admired her beautiful riding dress, Mrs Bennet is now opening the present and she exclaims in delight at her first sight of the little clock. Simon was spot on once again.

It is a nice piece, white lacquered wood ornamented with curls of gold leaf, with a gold-worked white dial and gold-plated hands and Roman numerals. It looks stunning.

Mrs Bennet is actually speechless for once.

Darcy smiles ingratiatingly and observes, 'I'm certain you have a mantle that can use a little ornament like that, and of course it runs very well, too.'

'It is just beautiful, Mr Darcy, thank you very much.'

Points scored.

Darcy merely bows to his mother-in-law, it is a trifle after all, and takes a quick look at what Elizabeth is doing at the moment.

She is just shaking hands with Wickham, and he holds on to hers a tiny bit longer than strictly appropriate, but of course they're brother and sister now. Now he is talking to her, and first she smiles and her face goes soft, but that is not the end of their interaction. Elizabeth clearly doesn't like the rest of what he says, but Darcy can see that because he knows her so well, to Wickham she must look politely interested.

'You are more beautiful than ever, my dear sister, as your esteemed husband just told Mrs Wickham, marriage clearly agrees with you.'

Wickham's address is as gentle and polite as ever, and he has a certain melancholy air that becomes him really well, but Elizabeth is not fooled by her former favourite. This man is manipulative, and though she smiles at his compliments, she is constantly aware of that.

'Thank you, Mr Wickham, you look fine yourself.'

'We used to be rather close, my dear sister, and though I realise I've lost the right to your compassion, can I implore you to take a turn in the garden together after tea? We shared so many thoughts in the past, and I would impose on you for half an hour to do so once again. Please?'

Elizabeth would dare call his expression not so much melancholy anymore, but rather tortured. Something is bothering Wickham very much, and though Elizabeth cannot justify his way of life and his actions, she cannot mercilessly deny him what he asks for either. It is not that much, she, and Fitzwilliam, will get over it.

'All right, Mr Wickham, I'll lend you my ear for half an hour. But first I have duties to my mother and father, and husband.'

That seems to be painful to him, husband, and Elizabeth cannot help trying to narrow it down a bit more. Is it the term 'husband' in general, doesn't Wickham like being a husband? Or does this concern Fitzwilliam, doesn't he like Elizabeth being married to Mr Darcy?

'You know, Mr Wickham, that I didn't have a clue my beloved was going to give my mother a present? It was such a pleasant surprise.'

It's Fitzwilliam, no doubt about it, hearing Elizabeth talk about him with sincere affection is agony to Wickham. There is nothing he dares say at the present, though, so he merely bows in acknowledgement and turns towards the rest of the party, to receive the rather indecent affections of his wife, who runs towards him like the girl she still is, and embraces him, kissing him full on the lips.

Wickham accepts her caresses with indifference and even a bit of embarrassment, Fitzwilliam may indeed congratulate himself on having shackled the shameless philanderer to the woman he tempted into sin, a woman who will not make him happy. Since that woman is her own sister, Elizabeth should feel some fear at Lydia's fate, but for now Lydia seems very happy with her husband, Elizabeth is certain she would marry Wickham again even if she could be made to realise he will never love her.

Observing her sister and her sister's husband, Elizabeth suddenly feels a hand take her own, and a bit of warm breath in her hair. Looking up she can see Fitzwilliam bending over her with a loving smile, and tightly controlled merriment in his eyes.

'I want to kiss you right now, but that would be very indecent, and injurious to my dignity,' he says softly, 'so please consider yourself embraced and kissed.'

Smiling infatuatedly, Elizabeth cannot see herself but she is pretty sure she must look totally smitten, she imagines Fitzwilliam taking her in his arms, his nice, manly scent enveloping her, then his lips on hers, the taste of his mouth, the feel of his tongue against hers. With a bit of difficulty she dismisses the image, she's in company.

'Done! Thank you so much for the kiss, love, it was great, as ever.'

Now his face clearly shows his happiness, and they walk to the drawing-room together, where the familiar servants serve familiar tea with familiar treats.

While Mary, Lydia and her mother still admire the little clock, the latter two loudly discussing where to place it, her father sits with the two of them, obviously very glad to have his favourite daughter back into her parental house, be it just for a few hours.

'This place hasn't been the same without you, dearest Lizzy. And you seem as spry as ever, no sore muscles from our trip yesterday?'

'No, papa, I had a warm bath and a great massage by my faithful husband as soon as we arrived, and I woke up right as rain.'

'Oh, to be young again,' her father remarks with mock-melancholia.

'You don't seem to be suffering from the long ride, Mr Bennet.'

Fitzwilliam either didn't get it, or doesn't want to spoil his father-in-law's joke.

'I'll have you know I can still spend a whole day in the saddle, young man, I'm not that old! It's the massage and what undoubtedly happened after, that I was referring to.'

That does shock Fitzwilliam a little, such an impertinent remark from someone he thought was a gentleman, but he recovers quickly and joins Elizabeth and her father in a hearty laugh. As Elizabeth checks whether her sisters have heard papa's indecency, she can see Wickham sitting alone, not interested in his wife's and her mother's chatting, but not daring to join the other three in their conversation.

Again, she feels sorry for him, and she immediately asks Fitzwilliam, 'Beloved, Mr Wickham asked me to take a stroll in the garden with him, I think he has something on his liver and no-one to show him some sympathy. Would you mind very much if I indulged him? He seems rather forlorn somehow.'

'Do you want to?'

That is not exactly the right expression.

'I don't actually want to, but I don't want to bluntly refuse him either. Let's say I feel I ought to, and I don't really mind talking to him. I have to confess to being quite curious how things are between them.'

'Well, you are brother and sister after all, and I know for a certainty he has no family left in this world to confide in.'

'Let the girl do her duty to my favourite son-in-law, Darcy, can't have him moping about on a wedding after all, and we'll retreat to my library and compare notes on a certain disease that is ravaging the less fortunate in the part of this world I feel responsible for. It's supposed to have come from the north, have you heard of it?'

That has Fitzwilliam's attention instantly, Elizabeth can remember Mrs Annesley talking about such a disease when Elizabeth visited Pemberley with her aunt Gardiner, if this is the same sickness, it is serious, and Fitzwilliam knows how to prevent more people from dying, the landowners in Derbyshire successfully combated it with clean water and better disposal of human waste.

'Didn't Bingley tell you about that? He was there when we discussed it one whole evening.'

They are already in deep conversation, and moving towards the library, Fitzwilliam kissing Elizabeth absently as Mr Bennet replies.

'Bingley only heard of this neighbourhood being struck less than a week ago, remember, he doesn't have any villages or poor among his dependants, he just leases the house and the hunting grounds. He told me to ask you, but somehow London caused me to forget.'

As they leave the room, talking with animation, Elizabeth throws Wickham a significant look, and he gets up and starts to excuse himself to his wife and mother-in-law.

Elizabeth acts as if she is still living here, not a visitor, for she merely announces, 'I'm in the garden,' then leaves the room, has her coat fetched and waits in the hall for Wickham.

He doesn't take much longer to get there, and without giving him the chance to take her arm, she steps outside, into the winter cold. Apparently he can take a hint, for even here he doesn't try to walk arm in arm, as they used to, but he does walk as close to her as is still decent.

Elizabeth has learned to be silent and just enjoy the moment, and despite being with Wickham there is plenty to enjoy, it is so good to be back at Longbourn, the garden and the house look as if they are made of sugar with their coating of snow, the sky is blue now, though it feels like more snow may be coming soon. Never mind, Fitzwilliam's black probably knows the way to Netherfield, and Daisy follows him everywhere.

How long has it been since she was here last? Two months? Nearly three?

'Are you happy, Elizabeth?'

Wickham obviously cannot bear the silence anymore, of course he did have something he wanted to talk about.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 39

She doesn't answer him straight away, her contemplations still have a hold on her, and she lets her feelings for her beloved take over from her love of nature before she speaks.

'I've never been happier in my life,' she replies earnestly, ignoring Wickham's familiarity in addressing her, somehow it is fitting at this particular moment.

'I never thought the idea of a married couple being one could be taken seriously, but Fitzwilliam and I have truly become two parts of a whole. When we are separated for as short a time as half an hour or an hour, we celebrate our reunion as if it had been days.'

'I envy you your happiness, but most of all I envy Fitzwilliam.'

And indeed, Wickham's gentle demeanour is more harsh than Elizabeth has ever seen it.

'I hated him for being an heir, hated him for being Richard's son instead of me. I hated him for being a righteous prig and for judging me when Richard didn't. Why should he always be right, because he was a few years older? Because he was going to be lording it over hundreds of people, never having to work a single day of his life?

His father already had that, and he celebrated life with me, told me my mother had the rights of it, to live her only life to the full. He taught his son to keep the family fortune safe, and then spent it with me.'

That obviously atoned but little for the advantages Fitzwilliam had over Wickham, and Elizabeth feels sorry for both young men, the one doing all the work, for of course Wickham is very much mistaken that Fitzwilliam never works, but she suspects he knows that by now. And the other having all the fun, never learning how to handle any kind of responsibility. The late Mr Darcy has a lot to answer for, though of course both men have made their own life's decisions as well.

'He promised me he'd provide for me, but who knows what went through his mind those last months, to put such an unfair condition on my independence. He cannot have expected me to take orders.

Which is why I suspected Fitzwilliam of getting his revenge on me in this way. I should have known he doesn't even have the gumption to pull such a trick on me, it must have been Richard himself. Do you think he didn't want me to enjoy life when he was no longer there to participate?'

Wickham clearly thinks this a possibility.

'Of course my own father begged me to take it, to live according to my means, as he had always done. But what did that get him? Mother did what pleased her anyway.

Though father really loved her, and he seemed to enjoy his work. Sometimes I think I may have made the wrong decision, if I had taken orders, at least I could have married a woman I could love, and relate to.

And that is why I envy Fitzwilliam still. I thought he was a prude for denying himself for nearly a decade, but in the end his way prevailed. He is a different man, his love changed him.

And to think I gave all that up, years ago, carousing with his father, while he studied, learned to run an estate, kept his mother and Georgiana company. We were good friends once, you know.

Would you have married me, if I had been the man I could have been? Steward to Fitzwilliam Darcy, or a minister?'

Though Elizabeth could have sworn Wickham never had any serious intentions towards her when she so unwisely showed her preference for him, he may have come to regret her later, when he married a featherhead, and Elizabeth his eternal rival.

'We probably wouldn't have met if you hadn't been in the militia.

There was a time I admired you even as you were, brother, but had I become aware of your transgressions and habits after marrying you, I'm quite sure I would have learned to hate you. I'm glad you showed your true colours with Miss King.

And though it took me months to find out for myself, Fitzwilliam was always worthy of being loved, I never cared for his money, I married him because he loved me, and he was an admirable man. Had he been a steward or a minister I would have married him without hesitation.

Your lies caused him a lot of undeserved pain by prejudicing me against him, but he stayed true to himself and finally managed to win my heart.'

'And still I envy him. I know you love your sister, and I know I can only blame myself for marrying her to relieve my debts, but she is not good company. She knows nothing, and is happy to stay that way. She is loud, and her spirits cannot be checked in any way. Her adulation makes me sick instead of proud of myself.

Frankly, I can only bear her presence in the bedchamber, where her lack of inhibition is a kind of asset, but by now I'm so afraid to get her with child I hardly dare to indulge myself in her anymore. Imagine raising a brood of little Lydia's!'

Elizabeth can hear him adding mentally: as your father did.

'Just get a good maid, Mr Wickham, as our father did. Jane and I didn't turn out all that badly, and I hear Catherine has improved immensely since you took Lydia away from her. Hire a good governess, we never had one and I think it would have helped. You have experienced yourself what influence education has on young people.

Did the late Mr Darcy indulge your mother in any of her life's enjoyments?'

It is a bit low to use Wickham's depressed mood to further her own ends, but Elizabeth so wants to know whether they were intimate, the late Mr Darcy and Wickham's mother.

'You think my children need not be hopelessly lost?'

That actually seems to cheer him more than a little.

'We can ill afford more staff, but when your father was staying in London with you I could see Mrs Hill manages your mother quite readily, without her noticing. I'll rest a bit easier for that thought, for in fact I do not dislike children at all, and Jane and yourself certainly show no resemblance at all to my beloved wife.'

Beloved of course drips with sarcasm, not even painful to Elizabeth, for though she loves her sister, she does not envy the man who has to live with her as his wife.

'You suggest my mother formed my character together with Richard, and I do think you may be right. He did not often include her in our outings, my father did not like that, but when he did we had the best time ever, people often mistook them for being my parents. That was hardly proper, or course, but we'd usually go to places where Richard's class didn't come, he loved the seedy parts of town.'

By now they have sat down on a cold bench in full view of the house, and as intimate as their talk is, any observer will notice immediately that these two are members of the same family, not lovers. Papa's library faces the garden, and Elizabeth hopes Fitzwilliam will look for her and see her behaving with the utmost propriety.

She knows Wickham has misjudged Fitzwilliam for years, still does, but nothing can mend the breach between them after what Wickham did to his former friend, and she will not attempt to make him any wiser at the cost of her beloved's confidence. Let her brother-in-law believe what he will, nothing can be changed in his situation anyway, Wickham's fate is sealed.

But for herself, Elizabeth can even feel a bit sorry for him, of course he has been weak and downright wicked, but only the strongest character would have survived the bad influence of a depraved mother as well as a licentious godfather and best friend. Apparently Wickham's father tried to raise his son to virtue and acceptance of his fate, but all he had to offer was the satisfaction of a duty fulfilled, while Mr Richard Darcy offered entertainment and even showed Wickham his own mother celebrating life at the cost of her decency, drinking and feasting among the lower classes.

'Will you dance with me tomorrow, my dear sister?'

'I will, once my sister lets go of her 'very dear Wickham'.'

That even gets a smile out of him.

'I know I brought this all on myself, but still it is very hard.'

'Better try to enjoy the wedding as much as you can. I'd advise you to ask my father for some counsel on how to deal with a featherheaded wife, but his solutions wouldn't suit you at all. He loves books and nature, and you're more a people's person.'

Apparently, Wickham hadn't thought of this before, and he admits, 'I am rather distrustful of my father-in-law, he's always so jovial to me, but I just know he's mocking me, he despises me, and frankly, who could blame him for that? After what I did? He must hate me as much as Darcy does.

Besides, your father likes Darcy, finally a man who can understand what he says, a man to be taken seriously. I can understand him just fine, I'm not stupid, but I'm going to be on the wrong side of his sarcasm forever. And Darcy's loathing. They will not ever let me into this family, and it's all the family I'll ever have.'

Well, they both have a valid reason to hate Wickham, and it's not as if he truly cares for family except now, the day before a wedding. Elizabeth does not think Wickham has the right to feel sorry for himself, what he did was inexcusable in both instances, and she says severely, 'Well, maybe you should try a little harder then, to prove you want to be part of this family. You certainly entered it unwillingly enough.'

'You're right, I'm sorry. It's been a real relief talking to you, my dear sister, I'm glad you were willing to listen for as long as you did. Darcy must have given you an earful of what I have done to him and to Georgiana. She loved me like a brother, and nothing more, but I misrepresented that until she believed herself in love with me. Though I assure you I would have been good to her.

But enough of the past for today. Let's get back inside before your husband calls me out, he doesn't rage, but his icy anger is way more scary, and if he had ever lowered himself to speaking out against me, he would have ruined me beyond repair. Let me be grateful to have had your ear for this last hour, and hope I, too, will find a way to enjoy my life being worshipped by a pretty, though empty-headed, young wife.'

And when they do go in, Fitzwilliam is waiting in the hall, by himself, he must have sent the servants away, and Elizabeth truly believes she can see Wickham show some fear.

But of course her beloved just wants to greet her properly, meaning indecently, and he doesn't want anyone to see it, Wickham obviously excluded.

Before she has the chance to take off her coat, he has her in his arms, his face in her furry collar, nuzzling her throat, and then kissing her neck upwards slowly, until their lips meet and they kiss with abandonment.

'I've missed you!'

As she has missed him, somehow there is always a feeling of something lacking by her side when they are apart, and it can only be righted by the exchange of intimacies. Elizabeth has no idea if Wickham is still there, watching prudish Darcy behave himself without the slightest regard for propriety with disbelief and envy.

She seriously considers taking her beloved to her own room, undoubtedly still as it used to be, but it just cannot be. They have to be satisfied with a few kisses and some muttered words of affection, and it is very hard to finally let go of the other and go back to the drawing-room.

Her father is still there, which is totally unique, he usually flees company. But not this morning, he seems eager to converse, and Elizabeth has a little idea that may help Wickham feel less shut out.

'Mr Wickham, what is life like in the regulars? Are any of your battalion called away on active duty?'

That does indeed interest Fitzwilliam as well as her father, and both men and Elizabeth gather around the black sheep of their family, whose face immediately shows some of his old charm and liveliness.

'As you know, I used to be a lieutenant in the militia, and thanks to Mr Darcy I have that same commission in the infantry now. As a militia officer, I had too much time on my hands, time I spent unwisely, being led into temptation, building up debt, getting involved with the wrong people.

The regulars are different, my soldiers are just one step up from rabble, they have no natural respect for manners and order, they are hardened by life on the streets, where only the strongest and meanest survive.

Privates in the regular army do not respect their officers except on threat of punishment, and believe me, they need a lot of punishment to keep them in line.

But will you gentlemen, and gentle lady, tell me how I am going to trust such men on a field of battle, in, say, France, with no burly sergeant with a whip in sight? I'll tell you, I won't. They'll do as they see fit, and we'll all die for lack of training or order.

Now you all know I haven't always lived my life as a gentleman should, even as a young man I often visited those low neighbourhoods with the late Mr Darcy, he had a distinct preference for certain establishments out there, and I accompanied him.'

Fitzwilliam shows some shock at hearing Wickham state dryly that his father, a respected gentleman, liked to visit seedy bars, but he does not protest or call Wickham out.

After his first shock of hearing Wickham talk about this openly, he looks resigned, he must have had his suspicions about his father. Wickham looks away from the man he wronged again and again, and continues his tale.

'Later, having lost my prospects due to my own preference for low amusements, I even lived among them, and consequently I feel a certain connection to the men of the lowest class, I know how to relate to them, and they respect me and take my orders.

But of course only if I spend time with them, show them I know more about warfare than they do, explain why they need to follow my orders without question. I may be the only officer spending so much time with his men, but it serves me well, it earns me their respect, and it keeps me off the streets and away from the gambling tables, though it also keeps me away from my home and wife.

I can now shoot a musket as well as any of my men, I know everything about formations and other battle-tactics. I want to do something right, for once.

And now rumours are flying that our battalions in France are not doing well because the French light infantry keeps messing up the lines of our superior marksmen.

Gentlemen, Mrs Darcy, if the war-office decides to create our own British skirmishers, light infantry, sharp-shooters with undying loyalty to their officers, I want to be part of that effort. I want to lead men into the thick of battle, protecting the regular infantry by causing confusion among the enemy.'

And George Wickham, the soft-spoken, gentleman-like young man looks positively determined to actually do this. No commanding from a distance for him, and a soft, lazy life in the army towns while the soldiers drill marksmanship, formation fighting and hardiness, but a life of danger and hardship among men just one step away from criminals.

'But, that is actually very dangerous, Wickham,' her father observes.

Mr Wickham may congratulate himself that his father-in-law is finally addressing him seriously.

'And going into battle with men I don't know and who think I'm an overdressed fop isn't?'

He is right of course, but still it is very difficult to see Wickham as a hard-bitten soldier, he seems so soft, and he has proven not to have much discipline.

'Playing at being a soldier is all right in times of peace, but I know you all read papers as well I do, you know what is going on in France with the revolution, and the America's, in the colonies. I may very well be sent overseas, and I'm not going to enter a field of battle, with looking well in scarlet and great gambling skills the only knowledge I gained in the army. I want to know how to defend myself as well as my country, not be the only one in my unit who can't actually fight.'

Fitzwilliam has not yet spoken a word, it must be terribly difficult for him to be confronted with Wickham once again, and Elizabeth can see scepticism all over his handsome face. He has heard Wickham form resolutions before, no doubt, breaking them as soon as the first hardship presented itself.

Reminding himself where he is, undoubtedly, Wickham also details another side of life in the army.

'Lydia has taken to camp-life extremely well, of course our private lodgings are very modest, but she goes out gladly and is the best of friends with the other officers' wives. They chat, and even do some needle-work, it can be difficult to get good staff, you see, and we officers do have to look our very best.'

Elizabeth certainly find this interesting information, and she is dying to ask more, she is really curious whether Lydia has settled at all being married, but finds it hard to inquire in polite terms whether her sister still flirts and mainly lives for entertainment.

'And my sister, does she read the paper as well? Is she at all worried you may be sent overseas to where the real fighting is?'

'She knows there is always a risk I may be called upon to do my duty to king and country, and she knows I may be asked to lay down my life for our great nation, some of the other wives are very superior ladies, they have explained to her what they read in the papers. Of course, some also have first-hand experience of war and its atrocities, because they are older, or because they have a father or brother in the army.

But mainly she is still the same girl she was before, eager for a dance, or an outing with friends, she still has her favourites among the other officers, but she is always glad to have me come home, always eager for me to show her affection.

She tells me she doesn't envy you your wealth, my dear sister, because she has me. Isn't that just sweet?'

Wickham actually sounds affectionate here, as if he truly loves Lydia, but he has just told Elizabeth he is incredibly unhappy in his marriage. Fitzwilliam is right not to trust the slick fellow, he can lie with an absolutely straight face, he looks totally sincere, that doesn't do much for his credibility with his 'dear sister'.

Their visit doesn't last long after this conversation. As Mr Bennet sees them out himself, Darcy uses the opportunity to challenge him to a game of billiards that very afternoon, and Mr Bennet accepts gladly.

'I was hoping you'd invite me over today, you were right about Wickham not being a reader nor appreciative of solicitude, my library was exactly as I left it, not a leaf of paper or a chair had been moved. But since I'm back, the library is no longer empty of people, me being there, and since my esteemed son-in-law is not a reader, he tends to seek my company and talk incessantly. He has a more interesting view of the world than I expected, apparently being at the mercy of politics gives one a certain motivation to gain some insight in them, but I've seen enough of him already, yesterday evening.

I'll be over for a game of billiards, and if I go on horseback I may be snowed in before evening, unable to return for the night. Look at the sky, an hour or two, and all will be covered in snow.

Was my brother Gardiner already arrived when you left?'

They deny this, and Mr Bennet shakes his head with worry.

If they have not arrived by now, they may have to take lodgings somewhere along the way to escape the weather.'

That is worrying indeed, and Elizabeth fervently hopes they will have arrived safely by now, those poor children! And Jane was looking forward to having her aunt and uncle Gardiner at the wedding.

Of course Darcy helps Elizabeth on Daisy's saddle, and they ride off at a walk, for he is very curious what Wickham confided to his 'dear sister'. A questioning look should be enough.

And it is, with a smile Elizabeth relates the chief of their conversation, though she obviously feels sorry for Wickham to a certain extent. He saw them sitting outside, in full view of the library, Elizabeth keeping a very proper distance from her brother-in-law.

'I tried to calm his fears about having a child, but since he mentioned being sent abroad I'm starting to doubt that decision, what if he has to actually fight, what will happen to Lydia and any children?'

'You cannot stop her from having children, Elizabeth, if it happens, it happens. And when it does, we'll help her as much as we can, suppose she has a little Elizabeth, smart and gentle, I still dislike Wickham intensely, but he used to a sensitive child, and just as your mother got you and Jane, Lydia might get a potentially gifted child. We cannot leave such a child to grow up deprived of all sense and education. Don't worry love, we'll sort it out when we need to.'

He is so sweet, and smart, and he looks at her adoringly.

'And he admitted to regretting you, and to hating me for being my father's heir. A year ago I would have declared him a liar, relating such a shocking thing about my father, but though he has proven he can lie with a straight face, letting us believe he has found a measure of happiness with Lydia, I'm afraid my father really did those things, take him into seedy bars, gambling, and chasing loose women.

My family is partly responsible for how he turned out, and if he truly exerts himself in his current position, and is allowed to apply for a place in a new company of skirmishers, I promise you I will use any influence I have, and forward all the necessary funds to get him in, as well as make sure Lydia and any children she has will not be left destitute.'


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 40

Even at a walk they arrive at Netherfield before the snow starts to fall, where Bob takes their horses, his plain face showing he is glad to be part of a team of stable-hands once more.

'Thank you so much, ma'am, for inquiring after me. The other guys are just stunned that Fanny accepted me, she gets so much respect being your maid, ma'am, they just cannot believe a girl like that'd marry a mere driver. I suppose I look like one of them peacocks for being so proud!

It's amazing how his staff have taken to Elizabeth, and Darcy cannot help feeling a certain relief at Mrs Annesley's superb choice of promoting Fanny to Elizabeth's maid. Fanny must be pressed by all the other servants to reveal details of Mrs Darcy's private habits, and some of those servants are very shrewd.

When all the staff start to avoid Darcy's eye, then gloat in passing, he will know they've cracked her.

But she has Simon to help her, and if Darcy's not mistaken, a very strong will of her own. And besides, what else is there to gossip about than a lot of loving going on between Mr and Mrs Darcy? They can all see that for themselves!

Of course they retreat to their own room to clean up a little and dress, and waiting by the door, Simon merely asks, 'Will you ring when you are ready to dress?'

Darcy nods, and Simon leaves.

This time, Darcy has cleaned up before they ring for their attendants, and Simon does not complain. Fanny makes another combination of country chic and a lovely new necklace for Elizabeth, how many of those did they find? This one is very intricate, it looks like real gold, feels like it, too, it's really heavy and very ornate.

Figurines of what seem to be Greek dancers demonstrate poses of more than common agility. Elizabeth studies it in the mirror, and says, 'I'm young and not exactly stiff, but I couldn't perform half of those, even if they weren't rather unsuitable for company.'

Before they can go downstairs, there is a knock on their door, and Georgiana comes in. Darcy can hardly believe that this is his baby sister, she is wearing another one of the new dresses and turban-style hats, and she is all woman.

Then she falls on the bed without the slightest regard for her ensemble, and addresses Fanny, apparently expecting some kind of great joke.

'Now tell my brother and sister about the gossip in the other part of the house, Fanny, it'll crack them up.'

Fanny looks really embarrassed, apparently gossiping to the master and mistress is a different thing than to the young miss. But with another encouraging look from Georgiana, Fanny wrings her hands and starts to speak.

'According to Mrs Hurst, you must have put a spell on the master, for her own husband fell for it, too, last night.

Her maid tried to get information from me, where you got the necklace, whether you always took so long changing after a ride, whether it was true you had the first maid of Mr Darcy's town-house dismissed because she looked at you in the wrong way. How could she know you dismissed Janine, ma'am?'

Not waiting for an answer, she probably realises they don't know either, she continues.

'And then she asked even more intimate things, which made me blush to hear, and which I will not repeat to you since that would be unbearably rude. I merely pretended to be shocked beyond speech, which in fact I was. Why would I tell such things to her? And how would I even know them? I'd have to spy on you to find out some of them, do other maids watch their mistresses all the time?'

'But that is not the good bit,' Georgiana says, 'it's merely a reason to check the doors carefully before you do anything intimate, and maybe cover a few knotholes here and there.

Miss Bingley's maid was the true goldmine of information.'

Poor Fanny has given up all resistance, and tells them what she has heard.

'Miss Georgiana told me Miss Bingley was very polite to you, Mrs Darcy, but according to her maid she was just playing nice. I feel very low for gossiping to you, but please do not be fooled by Miss Bingley, she is very angry at you for having married the master, and she expects to get her due when a certain Mr Wickham shows up tomorrow. She expects to be able to catch you at being partial to him, to injure you in the master's eyes. Why ma'am? How would that serve her? You're married, aren't you, for better or for worse?'

Elizabeth smiles at her poor maid, she may be a city-girl, but she must have been raised very sheltered to be even more naïve than Elizabeth herself was.

'I suppose she'd rather see us married for worse than for the better, Fanny. But please don't worry, not about telling us this, I don't see it as gossiping, for you clearly don't enjoy it.

Gossiping is very enjoyable, I indulge in it myself sometimes, though I always feel guilty afterwards. And don't worry about Miss Bingley sowing dissent between the master and me, it won't work.'

Darcy cannot believe Miss Bingley is planning something, maids can make up things as well, maybe Miss Bingley's maid hopes to get Fanny in trouble, marriages are forever, but maids can be dismissed. Maybe Violet Ragwort is seeking to better herself, maybe working for Mrs Darcy's wife is to be preferred over working for Miss Bingley.

It is not his place to instruct a personal maid, though, so he'll see what happens and warn Elizabeth if she hasn't caught on, yet.

But Simon has much the same thought, and Elizabeth did ask him to take care of Fanny, so it actually is his job to warn her.

'My dear Fanny, I think Violet may be the one playing a nasty game here. I suspect she wants to set you down as a gossip and a story-teller, to get you in trouble and maybe even dismissed. Violet would very much like to have your job.

You've done really well so far, telling her nothing, do keep that up, and if they make things hard for you, warn me, I'll take care of it. Violet likes me a lot.

And since I do see the use of gossiping as an exquisite form of entertainment, I'll smudge my reputation by telling you why Miss Bingley is not planning to harass Mrs Darcy, as I have heard it from the same Violet, who is rather fond of me by now.

I think I'll have to include Mrs Hurst's maid in the pleasantries next time, can't have Violet falling hopelessly in love and breaking her heart over me, after all.'

He looks around the room, enjoying himself hugely, maid and ladies hanging on his lips, all right, Darcy has to confess he is quite curious himself.

'Miss Bingley is planning to catch herself a husband the coming days. She likes Mr Manners, he has the right estate, the right connections, but of course he doesn't compare to you, master, her ideal of a husband.

No, as far as Miss Bingley is concerned, Miss Georgiana may have Mr Manners, he is not handsome enough for her.

And, he is too bookish, Miss Bingley actually prefers the sportsman type for herself, having to discuss books and poetry all the time, and visit difficult plays, is not something she anticipates doing.

But, Violet assures me, when Bingley's college friends arrive this afternoon, she will undoubtedly meet the man of her dreams, they all have fortunes, property, and education. And should none do, there is still Mr Manners, for somehow she cannot imagine the man able to resist her many charms.

Now we can all anticipate which one her eye will fall on first, and what arts she will use to catch his attention and steal his heart.'

Of course this is much more realistic than what Violet has tried to make Fanny believe. And the way Simon tells it is hilarious, even though it is gossip, and rather respectless towards a lady Darcy has known for years. Georgie seems to find it very funny, of course she has disliked Miss Bingley's superior attitude from the first of their acquaintance.

'Mr Manners clearly worships the ground she walks on, he only spent the entire morning with me because...' Georgiana pretends to be thinking hard.

'...because he's shy! That's it, he's too shy to approach the woman he really wants, so instead he makes himself very agreeable to me, talking about books, and poetry, and plays, and music.

He does not have a very athletic build, I agree on that point, but he told me he fenced at college, and wrestled, and if you look well, you can see he is rather broad in the chest and arms. Maybe Miss Bingley should have taken the trouble to talk with him before she judged his appearance.

Oh well, he's good company, but if he is supposed to be Miss Bingley's security against becoming an old maid, I'd better keep him at a distance. Can't have another Darcy break her heart all over again.'

Is Georgia considering Mr Manners' qualities? Seriously?

Darcy has to admit that so far he likes strikingly handsome Mr Fielding better in both person and address, his talent not even taken into account, but still, Mr Manners is a gentleman with a respectable estate and income, and they've only just met.

But Georgie is too young for a man, she said so herself, she must be making fun of all of them. He does decide to keep a close eye on his sister and Mr Manners, see if they are at all serious.

'Let's get going, I've challenged Mr Bennet for a game of billiards, I guess he will arrive any moment now, and Bingley doesn't even know to expect him. My father-in-law said there is heavy snow coming, and the sky seems to prove him right. I hope Mr and Mrs Gardiner won't get into trouble, and Bingley's friends.'

Here, Georgiana observes, 'Sorry, I forgot to tell you. Mr and Mrs Gardiner arrived while you were, ah, cleaning up and dressing, after your ride. They were cold and very tired, so they decided to retire for a bit of rest. Miss Bennet was very disappointed they didn't bring the children, but her aunt said it was just too cold to take four young children out in a carriage. Even inside they were freezing.

And they were very afraid to get stuck in the snow.'

Elizabeth is clearly relieved her aunt and uncle are well, and of course at the fact that they are here, Jane would miss them if they weren't at her wedding.

That only leaves Bingley's friends out there in the snow, but they're all experienced outdoors-men, they know when to ride on and when to find shelter. There are plenty of inns between London and Meryton, and all of them are glad to have a group of unexpected visitors when the season is cold like this.

Once back in company, Mr Manners does seem to fancy his sister, while she is not exactly encouraging towards him, but merely polite and extremely appropriate. She plays the piano, but not for him, she seems to be practising, allowing him to sit close and compliment her in the natural pauses between two pieces.

When Elizabeth joins their little party it becomes clear Georgie really is practising, for Elizabeth cuts off her play at certain points, then talks to her, and Georgie proceeds to play that same bit over, Elizabeth nodding, or shaking her head. It's just incredible how Elizabeth can help her sister without being as skilled at playing herself. Apparently Mr Fielding has instructed her very carefully.

Serious practising seems to bore Mr Manners, and since Darcy has seen his interest in Georgie he feels it is his duty to get acquainted with the gentleman. Mr Manners is again dressed in muted colours, and there is no way of putting it but that he is indeed rather homely. Darcy checks Georgiana's observation, and he does seem muscular, though his build is not athletic.

Well, he was rather good at billiards last night, but Darcy still has some trouble connecting to new people, and sadly he outranks most of the people he meets, making it his responsibility to initiate an acquaintance. Often causing people to dislike him for being arrogant if he fails to do so. Oh well, it's just this once, next time Mr Manners is sure to take the initiative.

In fact, Mr Manners is already on his way towards him, Darcy meets him half way, and starts with, 'Will your friends be able to find their way if it starts to snow, Mr Manners? What time do you expect them?'

'Bingley said they would arrive around lunch, which means any time now. Do you really think it will snow heavily? I've never been able to predict the weather, it has brought me in some dangerous situations, riding through a moor in a thunderstorm, getting caught in a blizzard, a true blizzard, in Scotland, I really need to be more careful.'

'It sounds as if you are quite the traveller, Mr Manners, that is very interesting indeed!'

'I like travelling, yes, but I also like to curl up by a roaring fire and just read, let my mind roam whilst my mortal shell is very warm and comfortable. Miss Darcy tells me you are an avid reader?'

'Very much so, it's kind of a family tradition, but one that is no hardship for me to keep alive.'

This is indeed a very interesting, very well-spoken man, somehow his appearance doesn't matter anymore after a few minutes, his presence is what sticks, and it's, simply put, very pleasant.

When they are called to lunch, Darcy is not done talking to Mr Manners by far, and Mr Bennet has arrived in a flurry of snow, what a luxury, so many interesting, intelligent people to talk to besides his own loved ones. Elizabeth must be having the same problem, how can she find time to spend alone with her sister, when there are also her father and her aunt and uncle to catch up with, and Mr Manners to get to know better.

And after lunch it gets worse, for Bingley's party of friends arrives, covered in snow, visibility reduced to zero outside. Of course they are all cold and hungry, but after they have had their lunch the whole party gathers in the drawing room and gets acquainted.

After the first formal introductions, Darcy finds himself in the midst of the new group with Mr Manners, as natural as rain. This man is really good!

The party consists of six men between twenty and thirty, all of them well-dressed and surprisingly well-groomed after a long drive through foul weather. From Bingley's introductions, Darcy understands that not a single one of these men is married or even engaged, and most are either in possession of an estate, or heir to one. One is a second son, and one unfortunate is even third son, but Miss Bingley may congratulate herself on having no fewer than four bachelors to get acquainted with, and Darcy is certain that Elizabeth and himself can look forward to some entertainment, trying to pick the one she will attempt to attach.

Encouraged by Mr Manners' informal introduction, Darcy talks to two of the new arrivals, Mr Vane, a tall, thin, ascetic looking man, with a mop of black curls, glossy with some kind of ointment to make them droop in perfect ringlets over the collar of his intricately embroidered dark green coat. He's wearing breeches and stockings, and shoes with large shiny buckles, his valet must have spent ages on his looks, but frankly Darcy finds them rather obsolete.

He cannot be an ascete if he attaches so much value to his appearance, and he is obviously not a sportsman, his physique lacks musculature, and his colour is very unhealthy. His manners make up for his appearance, though, he is very well-spoken and he sounds like interesting company. Still, Darcy doesn't think he's competition for Mr Manners where Miss Bingley's affections are concerned, especially not since the poor chap is the third son in the party.

Mr Ponsonby is not as tall as Mr Vane, but almost twice as broad. That is mainly because Mr Vane is so thin, for his friend is actually rather good looking. His colouring is opposite to Mr Vane's, healthy skin, his fair hair dressed in the height of fashion, 'shaking dog' style, spikes sticking out as if he has just come out of bed. It is a masterpiece.

Simon will undoubtedly try to find out how it was achieved, and practise it on his own master.

Dressed in bright colours, blue coat and ochre yellow trousers with fashionable plain shoes, Mr Ponsonby clearly is an athlete, for though his face is rather full and highly coloured, his shoulders are significantly wider than his waist, and his coat size barely accommodates his strong arms. He is one of the lucky ones, already in the possession of a good fortune and a noble estate close to Bath. Darcy guesses Miss Bingley will like this man, though she may object to his homely face.

After a very pleasant conversation they all move to the billiard's room, where Mr Bennet proves himself a very capable player, and very sociable in a group of people with actual intelligence and powers of conversation.

Dinner and the evening are spent as pleasantly, with a lot of conversation and some music, Elizabeth warning Darcy that she is retreating to a separate sitting room with her sister for a heart-to-heart talk to catch up on the last few months.

Georgie is attended by Mr Manners once again, and Darcy amuses himself with getting to know Bingley's other friends and predicting which of the new gentlemen will be Miss Bingley's favourite.

While he himself favours Ponsonby as having a valuable estate and the best combination of intelligence and physical assets, he guesses his lack of a beautiful face will put Miss Bingley off. Darcy knows he is very good-looking himself, and of course Miss Bingley fell in love with him in the first place, he will serve as a kind of ideal for her.

Which means Mr Grenfell must be the bachelor of her choice, he is very tall and very handsome, not as well-dressed as Mr Ponsonby but well enough, and not as superbly athletic as the other gentleman but with a Grecian profile and beautiful steel blue eyes. He may even be more handsome than Darcy himself, it is hard to decide what a lady would like, for of course as a man, Darcy looks differently at other men than a woman would.

Despite Elizabeth's absence of more than two hours, Darcy does not feel lonely, he watches Georgie talk to Mr Manners in a very lively manner, and he has a lot of catching up to do with Bingley after a few months apart.

Then there is Mr Bennet, who seems a totally different man in the company of intelligent people, even though they are very much his junior. He seems to be storing sensible conversation for the time ahead, when he will be left at Longbourn without his two best friends, his eldest daughters.

Just when Darcy is contemplating leaving the party to seek his bed, thinking Elizabeth and Jane will probably talk through the night as they used to, he finds her walking towards him, and he really has to control himself to the utmost not to run to her and gather her to his chest to kiss her all over.

But she obviously knows he wants to, and shows her own affection clearly, which is good enough for now. They embrace chastely, and he whispers in her ear, 'Please use my first name, for if you call me Mr Darcy now, I'm going to fall at your feet in worship. People will think you married a madman.'

'People will think I drove you crazy, love. I suppose you used to have a reputation for being very stable and sensible. Any change in your behaviour will be blamed on me. But I'll be careful with what I call you by, I'll save that special one for more suitable occasions.

Do you want to turn in? Spend some time comparing notes on our new acquaintance, maybe snuggle a little?'

Yes, that is what he wants, very much so. He wants to be away from all these people, it has been a very nice day, but a very long one as well, being confronted with George Wickham for the first time since he had to force him to marry the sister of the woman he loved, or lose every chance at winning the object of his affection, and the chance to marry her if he managed to win her despite the odds.

Also, he has been more outgoing to total strangers than he can remember having ever been in his entire life. Suddenly he feels very tired, and in need of some intimacy from the love of his life.

She's watching him with sympathy, undoubtedly she can read his thoughts and feelings just by looking at him, his beloved has such insight in his innermost being. And when he has finished his thought in total silence, she doesn't ask him to reveal the conclusion to his contemplations, no, she merely takes him in an embrace and ruffles his hair, undoubtedly making his fashionable hairdo even more fashionable.

He leans into her touch, and now she does speak.

'You have had a rough day, love, meeting Wickham, seeing so many new faces, having to show an interest in every single one of them. Let's get some time together, love.'

As soon as they have said their goodbyes and she has led him out of the drawing-room, she pushes him against the wall and kisses him passionately.

Of course that is just what he needs, and he feels his body respond and his mind calm down significantly. Their kiss lasts for minutes, and has the effect Elizabeth must have had in mind, for when they are done he feels much lighter and ready to talk about everything that happened today.

Still leading him by his hand, Elizabeth moves up the stairs, where Simon is waiting for them, as usual. He must have some kind of instinct to know when they will retreat, and apparently he also has an instinct when he is superfluous, for he takes one good look at his master and observes humbly, 'I suppose you will not be needing our services tonight?'

'I think not, Simon,' Elizabeth replies, 'I think tonight your master and I will help each other to undress and put away our clothes. Thank you so much for your understanding.'

She has been really nice to Simon since his outburst, as if she understands what he is trying to cope with.

'But Simon, it seems as if you have a need for us tonight, you seem a bit out of sorts, has someone been after you?'

Does he? Darcy takes a good look at his valet, and Elizabeth is right, he does look a little disconcerted, though he cannot imagine that any rumours from London could have made it to the country this quickly.

Even more humbly, and showing a little more liveliness, Simon quickly speaks up, 'Oh no, Mrs Darcy, everyone here has been very nice to me.'

He is in doubt for a few moments, then confesses, 'I had hoped to get the master's advice on some private matter, but this is clearly not the right moment, I'm sorry to have imposed on you. It will be fine, I think I've made my decision already. Thank you ma'am, for your concern, we all really value it.

I dare wish you a very good night, I'll tell Fanny she won't be needed until tomorrow morning. Will you ring when you're ready for us?'

He looks so servile, but strangely enough, not unhappy, as he bows deeply before them. At their confirmation of his assumption, he bows again in acknowledgement, though a lot less deeply, and turns towards the servants' quarters without looking back or seeming distraught.

'That was strange,' Elizabeth observes, but then she distracts both of them from what happened by kissing him once more, then leading him to their bedroom quickly, almost heatedly.

From the moment the door closes behind them they are all over each other, kissing, fondling, removing the occasional item of clothing.

But Elizabeth is not so far gone in desire as to forget her promise to Simon, and she hangs out Darcy's coat and folds his cravat over the back of a chair. Of course Darcy follows her example, putting away her dress and her hat neatly, leaving the gorgeous gold chain on the dressing table.

But when everything that can damage or wrinkle has been removed, they go all out on the rest, and soon underwear is flying, and they hit the bed kissing and groping.

All the fatigue and tension of the day evaporate as they make love with fervour, Elizabeth no less active than Darcy himself. He feels no need to subject himself to his beloved, that seems to be a weird mood that comes over him every so often, now he merely wants to stroke and kiss and lick every inch of her, until she shudders with passion, and it is very obvious she feels exactly the same.

Such intensity cannot last long, and within half an hour they are both sated and physically exhausted, lying limbs entangled under their warm blanket.

And then they talk. About Wickham, how Darcy failed to see that the companion of his youth had in fact been led astray by his own father, that Wickham had not hidden his true nature from his patron, but had in fact been encouraged in his excesses by the very man who had inspired in Darcy a son's admiration for his father's unshakeable morality, and a wish to be as fair and as reputable when his own time came to take over the management of the family estate.

'And you succeeded, Fitzwilliam, everybody respects you, your dependants even love you. The only one who suffered was you, really.'

That may be true, but somehow Darcy feels cheated by his father, and rightfully so, Elizabeth admits.

'I do understand your disappointment in your father, to find out he led a double life, led a boy you once loved as a brother into depravity and licentiousness. Of course Wickham made choices, too, he had your example and his own father's, of how a man should behave.'

And they talk about Mr Manners and his intentions towards Georgie.

'She seems to like him, but she does not encourage him at all,' Elizabeth observes rightfully.

'He would be such a good match for her, such a pleasing character, everything a gentleman should be. It's enough to make me suspicious,' Darcy cannot help confessing.

This causes his beloved to laugh out loud, but she does admit to feeling protective of Georgie.

'She is still so young to be thinking of marriage, but his attentions force her to consider him as a potential partner. He's not handsome, but everything else seems admirable.

You're right, it's almost too good to be true. Better keep a close eye on him without intimidating him.

Though I can't help feeling for Mr Fielding, love, he is such a superior, sensitive man, and so talented.'

'Well, it's not as if it is our choice to make, Georgiana will have to decide herself whether she is ready for love and marriage, or whether she'll pursue her studies a few years extra. In which case, either of the gentlemen will have to try his luck elsewhere, or stick to it.'

'But it is your choice to make, Fitzwilliam,' Elizabeth now remarks very seriously.

'Your sister is convinced that you want her to marry a gentleman with prospects, not a penniless young artist, no matter how talented.

That will influence her choice very much, I'm sure, even beyond her own wishes. Especially since as yet she has no higher feelings for either man involved. You must become aware of that, for if she marries Mr Manners before she knows what love is, to please you and behave appropriately, she may regret that decision later.'

'I see your point my love, how could you ever wish to have a sense for decorum and propriety if you have something much more valuable?

I wanted Georgie to not have to think of men and marriage for a long time yet, I thought we could just ignore men paying attention to her as long as she isn't interested in them.

But if you think Mr Manners' attentions, if they turn out to be serious, may force her into marriage because it's such an advantageous match, maybe it's not a good thing to ignore possible suitors after all.

Maybe we should give Georgie the chance to really get to know Mr Manners, like Fanny and Bob did before they decided they wanted to get married, so she can make up her own mind.'

Elizabeth is glad to hear that, and Darcy adds a promise, 'I will do my utmost to let her know I'm not going to encourage her into a marriage before she is ready to love someone, a marriage that may leave her unhappy or even miserable. Talking to your father, and hearing what Wickham told you about being married, I'm starting to think I wasn't just lucky to find you, but also rather sensible. I want my sister to be as happy in her marriage as she is now, preferably happier.

Thank you so much love, for your warning. She's just sixteen, I thought we could postpone these matters until she was eighteen at least, or in love, but apparently having a fortune and connections comes with certain responsibilities and disadvantages as well. Let's talk to her about what she wants before she gets all kinds of strange ideas.'

Of course the coming wedding will have precedence over serious talks, but Darcy realises he has barely talked to Georgie the last few days, he observed her, saw her happy enough with either Kitty or Mr Manners, or the bride or groom, and went ahead with what he was doing.

That will change tomorrow, he will be by her side much more often, if only to protect her from George Wickham or Lydia's foolishness.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 41

Having talked about the most important things, they naturally move on to the less important subjects, their new acquaintance and Miss Bingley's chances to find a husband among them.

Elizabeth can see that Fitzwilliam is rather affected by the idea that a desirable gentleman paying attentions to Georgiana could force a decision to marry well for her family's sake from his faithful sister, but he must consider that possibility, and he will. As soon as he is used to the idea.

For now, a little talk bordering on gossip will divert him from more serious subjects.

'I saw you talking to two almost opposite gentlemen,' she draws him out, 'a foppish thin one and a strapping blond. Were they good company?'

Smiling at her way of talking, he tells her about Mr Vane and Mr Ponsonby, concluding with, 'So, whilst they were both excellent company, I'd say only Ponsonby stands a chance, but he does lack personal beauty. Of the three I have really talked to so far, I'd give Mr Grenfell the highest points.'

'Ah, Mr Grenfell,' Elizabeth replies, 'he is indeed a handsome fellow, with a nice fortune. He did strike me as a little too pleased with himself, but maybe Miss Bingley doesn't mind that. She's used to loving a handsome, proud fellow after all.'

Her cheeky smile has the desired effect, Fitzwilliam forgets everything he might worry about and retorts, 'I thought I told you before, Elizabeth, pride is only a flaw in a weak character. Where there is real superiority of mind, pride will always be under good regulation.'

Elizabeth can feel her smile broaden, he really sounds exasperated, as if he means it.

'We'll just have to see in which category Mr Grenfell places himself, then.'

Fitzwilliam has truly learned to laugh at himself, quoting his own foolishness with relish, showing his love for her openly and of course unable to keep his hands off her, even after having been totally sated not even an hour ago.

'Which gentlemen have you had the pleasure talking to?' he asks her between two kisses.

'I talked to Mr Grenfell, and admired his looks, but not his self-assurance. But I mostly spent some time with Mr Lascelles and Mr Bathurst. You know, the smallest guy of the lot, with the moustaches? That is Mr Lascelles, he's part French and proud of it.

He certainly has the mental capacities to regulate his pride, he struck me as being extraordinarily smart. My father asked him for his opinion on the Revolution in his father's homeland, and he had some truly fascinating insights. I'm sure papa will seek him out again the coming days. His ideas on equality are only slightly less revolutionary than those of the current French rulers.

And he stuck to them faithfully, for he did not object to my participating in the conversation, he answered my questions and reacted to my remarks as seriously as to my father's, despite my being a mere female.'

'You could never be a mere female, my love,' Fitzwilliam breathes in her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

'You are the smartest person I know, though I don't know Mr Lascelles beyond shaking hands with him. His English is accentless, isn't it?'

'It is, he was born and raised here, his mother was an independent widow who married a refugee from our nation's mortal enemy. I like him a lot, but I don't think Miss Bingley will, he's not actually of impeccable descent, you see, his father was no commoner, but all his possessions were taken from him and he was totally destitute when the noble widow took him in and fell in love with him.'

'So Mr Lascelles is out. And Mr Bathurst?'

'He is the last option, since Mr Acton is reputed to be a second son and destined for the church. I think I'll like Mr Acton, though, he seemed not merely handsome, but rather artistic somehow. I can't wait to really get to know him, I suppose there will be some time before the wedding tomorrow, and anyway, we'll be together for at least a week afterwards. Do we need to go home to prepare for the Christmas party?'

'No, Mrs Annesley assured me she had it all covered. I'll accompany Georgie to her piano lesson to make sure, we'll take the carriage, the slow team is so much faster now we can be there and back in a day, if I miss you too much. You'll be fine with your sister, won't you?'

'I will, I feel much more at home here with Jane being the lady of the house.'

'But you were going to tell me about Mr Bathurst, is he really an option?'

'Well, you've seen him, he is not at all handsome, but in a very noble way I think. Like your aunt, very impressive, very important looking, but not athletic or with pleasing features.

Still, he is nice enough, and smart. Somehow, Bingley seems to have a really good taste in friends, they are all nice, though widely different in appearance.

If there wasn't a foot of snow at least outside, we could see them ride out, observe their sportsmanship, though the real athletes will undoubtedly get restless after a few days of being snowed in. I'm glad we'll only have to dig our way to church for the wedding, with the party held right here.

I suppose it will be very weird to dance with you here, my love, since my family made such a laughingstock of themselves last time we danced here. If you see me blush scarlet, I'll be thinking of how they behaved, and how I addressed you that night. I was openly hostile, so incredibly rude, I truly wonder how you managed to stick to your preference for me.'

'Never mind, my love, I didn't even notice your hostility, I thought you were merely rather lively. And your family, you know they weren't your responsibility, you couldn't help it.

In one thing at least Wickham was actually right, I was a prig, a total and utter one.

I'm cured now, maybe I'll make a fool of myself to prove it. When you dance with Wickham, I'll throw a tantrum, and your father will have to calm me down.'

Imagining this, Elizabeth has to laugh, and Fitzwilliam joins her.

Then he asks, 'So which one will Miss Bingley choose?'

'I guess it will be Mr Grenfell.'

Fitzwilliam agrees, 'I think so too, though I think she should choose Mr Ponsonby. If he'd have her.'

'With her fortune, she can choose any of them, and I think Mr Acton may very well be the most deserving, but Miss Bingley will not throw herself away on a penniless second son.'

'Maybe she'll decide to go for Mr Manners after all, he does seem the nicest of the lot. He did me a great turn helping me to get acquainted with his friends. As if he knew it was difficult for me to relate to so many strangers.'

'I do like him as well, and we'll probably see plenty of him, Bingley seems very taken with him.'

After that, they discuss the wedding the next day, snuggling close all the time, getting ever more sleepy, and before they know it, it is light outside once more. The day of Jane's marriage has arrived!

But when they have indulged themselves in their usual loving, and Simon answers their ring and opens the curtains, while Fanny busies herself preparing her mistress' church dress, they can see snow flurrying past the window in amazing thickness for something airborne.

'Is it snowing as hard as it seems, Simon?' Fitzwilliam asks his valet, and Simon dutifully answers.

'It is, master, and it seems as if it has snowed all night as well, for there is nothing to be seen outside but white. It is fortunate all the guests have arrived yesterday, for no-one will be able to travel more than a few miles in safety today.'

Oh, no, poor Jane! She has waited for so long to be wed, and now the ceremony may have to be cancelled due to the atrocious weather!

'Don't worry, Elizabeth,' Fitzwilliam says soothingly, 'we'll find a way to have your sister wed today. But maybe you'd better wear your special woollen underwear under your dress. Churches tend to be draughty, and I'm afraid your little carriage cannot be heated very well. It will be very cold in there.'

They kiss a little more, until the fire has come to life once again under Simon's capable hands, making the room a bit more comfortable to dress in, and their clothes ready for use.

Elizabeth, remembering Simon's strange conversation last night, takes a good look at the handsome valet, and he seems to be glowing. His usual demeanour, always slightly tragic to her eyes since she found out about his unrequited love for his master, is different. With so many male guests, the servants' quarters must be brimming with valets, Simon must have met someone to relieve his loneliness for a night, maybe even a bit longer.

Since that is a rather embarrassing thought, and none of her business anyway, Elizabeth quickly thinks of something else altogether, and with the snow making this day a lot more exciting than her favourite sister's wedding already was, that is rather easy to do.

Wearing the dress Fanny and Elizabeth chose for church, but with her woollen underwear and even her sturdy boots hidden under it, Elizabeth sits still while Fanny does her hair with amazing deftness for a maid who has been promoted from extra help not even a month ago. She must have a real talent for this.

It takes nearly an hour to gild her mistress to her satisfaction, but Simon needs as much time to perfect his master's look, and it certainly pays off. Yesterday's hairdo is managed once more, his cravat is even more intricately folded and pleated, his shoes buffed to the highest sheen. And Simon seems to have applied a tiny dash of dark colouring to his master's eyes, their lashes are darker and longer than ever, and Fitzwilliam's expression is just ravishing.

'I have been warned of outshining the bride in my afternoon dress, Simon,' Elizabeth says cheekily, 'but aren't there similar rules about making the groom seem commonplace compared to his witness? Shouldn't you have botched at least one tiny detail, to spoil the whole and let poor Mr Bingley be the handsomest man for this most important day of his life?'

Simon smiles broadly at her outrageous compliment, and dares to retort.

'The personal staff decided yesterday that Mr Grenfell was the handsomest man in the party, Mrs Darcy. I suppose I did take a little offence at that, and decided to tip the scales in favour of the master today. Do you think I overdid it?'

'I think you did, but it worked. Your master will certainly be the handsomest man today, unless Mr Grenfell's valet outdid your performance.'

Still tickled with his mistress' playful praise, Simon seems to have a turn of thought, and he observes, 'Oh well, not everything is about appearance anyway. Excellent manners and a generous nature make a man beautiful as well.'

And as if to distract them from that observation, he adds, 'Don't you want to know whom they voted the prettiest lady?'

With a laugh, Elizabeth replies, 'I don't need to, for Miss Bennet is not only the most beautiful woman in the party, she has the best manners and the most generous nature of everyone present, man or woman, no exceptions.'

'You are right, ma'am, as ever,' Simon states humbly, 'Miss Bennet led the field with no competition. But you, Mrs Darcy, came in a handsome second, unanimously I might say. And if Miss Bennet weren't the bride today, which will undoubtedly add to her beauty still, you'd give her serious competition in that dress you chose for the party.'

With snow still falling outside, they receive a message from Bingley and Jane, and make their way to the sitting-room where Elizabeth chatted privately with Jane yesterday evening, to meet the bride and groom for a quick deliberation.

But first, Elizabeth looks her fill of her stunningly beautiful sister, already dressed in her wedding-gown, since they are supposed to be wed at the church before noon.

Jane is wearing white, and her gown is deceptively simple, very little lace, hardly any decorations, the simple elegance of the design and her perfect figure are enough to make her stand out. But closer inspection reveals the priceless white silk and the perfect fit of this dress, she did not have it made locally, or Elizabeth has to be very much mistaken.

Bingley is also dressed to perfection, his features are perfectly regular and pleasing, but to Elizabeth he just always seems to lack a little ginger to his character. He is perfectly handsome, and perfectly pleasing, but somehow Fitzwilliam still beats him in looks.

But not in character, not for the bride anyway, Bingley is the perfect husband for Jane, and they will make each other very happy.

At this moment, the couple is a bit distracted, though. The heavy snow is a serious problem, it could very well be dangerous to drive to church in this weather, but without going to church there can be no wedding today.

'What shall we do, Darcy?' Bingley starts. 'We have everyone gathered here in safety, and frankly I don't feel like risking more lives than strictly necessary on our trip to church.

Do you think we can take just one carriage to church, with Jane and myself, Mr Bennet of course, the two of you, and maybe Kitty and Mrs Gardiner? Leave the rest of the party behind in safety, and celebrate here when we're back?'

That sure sounds sensible, but will Bingley's sisters agree to be left behind?

Fitzwilliam obviously shares his beloved's doubts.

'But what will your sisters say when you tell them you're not taking them along, Bingley? I cannot imagine Miss Bingley just accepting not being present at your exchange of vows.'

'Actually, Darcy, it was Caroline's own idea to stay behind, she hates deprivations, and cold is the worst in her opinion. The whole idea of getting stuck in a snow-bank or the Meryton Arms for the night makes her very skin crawl. That is exactly what she told me, by the way.

Also, there is Mr Grenfell, she's taken quite a fancy to him I think. But that is something I didn't hear from her, I deduced that myself.'

'If your sisters don't object, I see no problems in the scheme, do you want to take your carriage? Your horses know how to find their way in this neighbourhood, I think.'

Bingley is in doubt.

'I'd prefer to have your Bob on the box, he's the best driver we have among us, and it will be a real challenge to find our way to Meryton in this.'

Bob is that good? But Elizabeth tends to agree with Fitzwilliam, having local horses can be very important as well, somehow horses usually know where their stables are, and if the weather worsens, that may help them get back to Netherfield.

'Elizabeth's little carriage is rather small for six of us, seven if Kitty wants to come, but it's very stable and the slow team is fit and has been especially shod for snow. Bob loves a challenge, he'll get us to Meryton despite the horses not knowing the way, though it's probably sensible if one of us rides along on horseback anyway, just to be sure.'

That is a very practical improvement on their plans, and they decide Fitzwilliam will ride along on his black horse, it has a certain sensibility that will benefit them if the snow gets too thick to see where they are heading.

Georgiana doesn't mind staying behind, especially not since Kitty decides she'd rather stay at Netherfield as well. Mr Gardiner doesn't mind being left behind, but Mrs Gardiner really wants to come, so she puts on a warmer dress and a warm coat.

Soon, they are all ready to go, the snow is still not letting up, but there is a rather strong wind blowing from one direction, and the road is reasonably clear as far as they can see.

Bob asks his master for a companion on the box, with a shovel, in case they run into a snow-bank in some turn of the road, a very sensible proposal that is of course followed. They decide on a strapping local fellow from the stables named Rick, who can help find the way as well as dig them out of a drift.

The bride and groom seat themselves in Elizabeth's beautiful little carriage, and Elizabeth, Mr Bennet and Mrs Gardiner join them inside, a bit cramped but all the warmer for that. Fitzwilliam mounts his tall black, horse and master both enjoy the prospect of riding a few miles through the snow, that much is clear.

Bob and Rick take their places on the box, protected from the worst of the cold by a screen, and the solid team sets off, almost frisky with the cold.

As long as the road is straight, and crosses the relatively flat grounds of Netherfield, they make excellent time, the first mile passes by without incident. Darcy can see the road easily, the snow is still fresh so it doesn't stick to the road much, it blows right across to gather in large drifts where a line of trees or a hill hinders its advance.

The slow team is strong and has excellent footing with the frost-nails on their shoes, and the occasional accumulation of snow up to a foot and a half is no problem at all, they just walk right through and the carriage follows.

But as soon as they leave the Netherfield grounds behind, trouble starts in the shape of a snow-bank filling up a hollow in the road.

Darcy tests the solidity of it, and his horse has no trouble wading through, but it is probably too high for the carriage to pass unscathed.

And indeed, as Darcy turns his horse and catches Bob's eye, not an easy feat through the flurrying snow, Bob shakes his head at his master: the carriage cannot make it through the drift.

He brings the team to a standstill, and Rick jumps off the box with his shovel and sets to work straight away. Snow is flying, Darcy notes Rick flinging it to the side where the wind will take it away from the road, a clever fellow who undoubtedly hopes they'll be able to return without further shovelling.

In five minutes, Rick has cleared the road enough for Bob to shout at him to catch his attention, then gesture to stop digging.

With a slight slip of the wheels, the carriage comes back to motion, and Bob expertly guides the horses through the narrow gap Rick has dug. Rick gets back on the box, and off they are.

Until they hit the first bridge, a rather steep incline up, followed by the same incline down, covered in a thick layer of powdery snow.

Fearlessly, Darcy sets his black to go up, and it does indeed slip once or twice, but his horse is unshod, whereas the slow team has the weight of the carriage, but is protected from slipping by its special shoes.

But Bob doesn't even hesitate, he urges the team on with his voice, and up they go, pretty fast, actually. Then it's back down, and to Darcy it seems as if the carriage shocks all the way down, he hopes the bride and groom won't get sick inside.

As the horses keep their footing easily, the carriage seems to be following the same track perfectly, and it doesn't show any signs of overtaking the horses. Darcy realises Bob is using the brake on and off, to slow the carriage down but prevent the wheels from blocking and acting like the runners of a sleigh.

Such an excellent driver, his passengers and his horses are just lucky to have Bob watching over their safety.

Without worse mishap than another few drifts they reach the church, and as Bob leads the team to the local stables, Darcy hands Rick his black's reins and a nice tip.

'You have both earned a square meal with a little extra, Rick, Bob and yourself. Treat yourselves at the Arms. Stay sober, though, we still have the return trip ahead. I'm sure your master has a feast planned for you, too, tonight. It's not like him to celebrate and leave his staff with an ordinary supper.'

Rick accepts the money and puts it away with one hand, then voices his appreciation for Darcy's gesture.

'Thank you, Mr Darcy, for rewarding our efforts. Enjoy the ceremony, we'll get your loved ones home safely.'

The first should be easy, compared to outside the church is relatively warm, and lighted beautifully. No profusion of flowers for Jane on her wedding day, but his sister-in-law doesn't look any less beautiful or happy for it.

The damage done to his own outfit by riding through the snow is minimal, the advantages of leather trousers and a thick coat, and Elizabeth ruffles his hair and whispers to him.

'You look even better for your ride, though Simon's efforts with the darkening of your eye-lashes have backfired a little: the cold wind and the snow have caused it to run just a tiny bit, making you look like a melancholy hero.

It makes me want to swoon in your arms, to complete the picture. Will you continue reading that pirate story when we're back home? You look like the pirate captain, I can't wait to picture you in a dramatic scene, being wounded in action and saved and lovingly tended to by his second-in-command, that ravishing black-haired young lady who fights like a demon.'

They snuggle secretly, until Darcy feels someone watching him. It's the minister, of all people, catching them behaving indecently in his church! He didn't come over to scold them, though, he merely asks Darcy to follow him to the groom to prepare for the ceremony.

Darcy totally forgot about that, with all the fuss about the snow. Of course, he's Bingley's witness, he needs to be at his side during the ceremony, and Elizabeth will have to stay behind and sit there all by herself.

Having to leave his beloved suddenly, Darcy feels a bit put out, as he follows the minister to the altar towards his overjoyed friend and the glowing bride, her sister is left sitting by herself. Darcy looks back at her to check whether she minds, and sees Lydia and Wickham descending on her.

Wickham manages to push himself in front of his boisterous wife, and ends up sitting right next to Elizabeth, who clearly does not appreciate Wickham's cheek and acknowledges his hearty greeting with a reserved handshake.

The impudence of that man knows no bounds, Darcy can feel his excellent mood vanish, replaced with irritation and yes, a spark of anger.

He wants to walk over and escort his beloved wife to sit with her aunt Gardiner, who is still standing, talking to her sister -in-law, but of course he cannot, it would be very indecorous, and a triumph to Wickham for having disconcerted Darcy. He'd make a spectacle of himself showing such jealousy towards a man so far beneath him, even if Darcy is convinced Elizabeth once considered that man with a certain tenderness.

Forcing himself back to tranquillity by breathing in and out slowly, Darcy reminds himself that Elizabeth chose him, loves him and married him. The thought gives him a feeling of triumph, and his excellent mood quickly returns.

Elizabeth can take very good care of herself, she has no need for a jealous husband to come to her aid. It's her independence he loves, and if she decides she will humour Wickham again to make him feel at home in the family, she's not doing that for Wickham, she's doing it for her sister, whom she certainly loves, little though the noisy child deserves it.

Elizabeth being nice to Wickham is no sign of her still having warm feelings for him, the very thought is an insult to his beloved, she may have once liked him more than a little, that was before she really knew him. No-one realises having escaped a loss of every prospect in life through Wickham's misdeeds more than Elizabeth, not even Lydia and Jane, Darcy is convinced neither of them is aware how close they were to irremediable infamy through Lydia's elopement, just as Georgie probably doesn't realise yet what she barely escaped by telling Darcy about her plans to elope with Wickham.

They have become so close since then, Georgie has developed so beautifully, too bad she couldn't be here for Elizabeth to sit beside.

But it was a good decision to leave her at Netherfield, they managed to get here relatively easily, but that may change for the return trip.

By now, Elizabeth is talking with both Wickham and her sister. She doesn't seem to feel imposed upon, though Lydia of course is a bit loud for the church. Now it is Wickham's turn to be uncomfortable, while Elizabeth doesn't seem to care at all, Lydia is not her responsibility anymore.

With the few attending family members present and seated, Mrs Gardiner now on Elizabeth's other side, the minister asks for attention.

And after his address on the subject of marriage, Bingley and Jane speak their vows as sincerely and as clear-voiced as Darcy and Elizabeth did, looking as happy as they must have done, and a lot more relaxed, since they don't have their important relations to face afterwards. Just friends, neighbours and close relatives to congratulate them on a long-expected union.

Rings are placed on each other's hands, and the new couple share their first official kiss, Darcy knows for a fact they have been stealing kisses as much as Elizabeth and himself did, they have been engaged for such a long time, it must have been incredibly difficult to refrain from further intimacies.

Somehow, witnessing the ceremony for the first time since pledging himself to Miss Elizabeth Bennet after months of heartbreak and suspense, his feelings overflow, and he has to swallow hard a few times to keep them under control.

Fortunately Elizabeth soon approaches him to congratulate the happy couple together, and of course she has seen his expression, maybe feeling some it it herself. Since Bingley and Jane are busy receiving Mr and Mrs Bennet's congratulations they take each other's hand firmly and wait for their turn.

Elizabeth is not controlling her emotions, she indeed experienced some strong emotions as dear Jane promised to cherish Bingley, as she herself promised Fitzwilliam. To be looking on instead of standing there exchanging vows is a bit strange, but Jane does so deserve to be happy in love, Elizabeth's happiness cannot be contained.

She smiles broadly as she kisses her sister and shakes hands with her new brother.

'Congratulations, you will be so happy together!'

Jane is showing her feelings for once, she is so beautiful today, and Bingley looks so happy to finally have her all to himself. They'll have a house full of guests this week, and after that the newly-weds will join the Christmas party in London, but Elizabeth is sure her sister and her husband will find the time to be together at least some of the time. It's not much use to plan a honeymoon in the depth of winter, they can always go on a trip together in spring or summer.

'Thank you, dear Lizzy,' Jane replies, 'who would have thought it would end this way, Lizzy, when Bingley came to live at Netherfield? Now we're both married, and we'll be living really close to one another in town, but what about spring and summer? Will we even see each other those months? And what about papa? He'll miss us so much!'

'I'm sure it will all be fine, Jane,' Bingley says lovingly. 'Mr Bennet can visit whenever he wants to, we'll get him used to life in town yet. And you can write all the time.

What do you all say to going back to Netherfield to celebrate? If we wait too long we may be snowed in.'

That is really sensible of him, to think ahead, and Fitzwilliam steps outside to check the weather and order the carriage, while Wickham and Lydia approach to congratulate the newly weds, Wickham his old charming self, not a hint of the affected man they saw yesterday, and Lydia over the moon, but without the slightest consideration.

'Dearest Jane, I'm so glad you're rich now, we can always stay with you and you can give us handsome presents for Christmas!'

Jane ignores her youngest sister, she is much too happy to let her spoil anything, she merely thanks Lydia for her kindness and proposes they discuss who will ride in which carriage.

'Do you think the Lucases will make it to Netherfield, Bingley? And the Goulds?'

'I cannot imagine, my love, but I'm afraid our little orchestra won't make it either. It will reduce our party to a mere gathering of friends and family, but I'll admit I'll be glad once we're safe and sound at Netherfield. We can throw a ball for our friends some other time, when it is safer for everyone.'

And to prove he can show independent thought and decisiveness he addresses his mother-in-law and his new brother-in-law, 'Mrs Bennet, Mr Wickham, I insist on all of you staying at Netherfield tonight, returning to Longbourn will be much too dangerous. I will have rooms prepared for you as soon as we arrive, if we can make it.

How are things outside, Darcy?'

Fitzwilliam has just returned.

'It's not too bad, Bingley, I can still see our footsteps from when we came in, I hope we may be able to ride straight over, without further shovelling. Though it will be too dangerous to drive back at night, I think your guests must count on staying over and bring

their attendants and a change of clothes. Warm coats and boots as well, suppose we do get stuck, it's better to be safe than sorry.'

So he already expects Wickham to be staying after all. He's back at her side, his hand feels cold as he takes hers in a firm grip and says in a low voice, 'I can't wait to get back and dance with you in your magnificent gown. I wonder what Georgie is doing right now.'

'Probably practising, Fitzwilliam, she doesn't know that the orchestra will most likely be unable to come, and that she will be playing the piano a lot of the time, unless she wants to sit through one of Maria's concerto's. She reckons she'll be dancing most of the afternoon and evening, Mr Manners will be disappointed on both counts, first he cannot converse with her because she is practising, and then he cannot dance with her because she is entertaining the others.

Oh well, better he learn straight away that she prefers playing to anything.'

He looks at her with a soft expression, and with a low, husky voice says, 'I love you so much, Elizabeth. Will you spend an hour with me in the privacy of our room, as soon as we are back?'

She replies with the same intensity.

'I will, but let's not forget your sister, she must not be left by herself with my sister and Wickham without either Jane or papa present, even my aunt or Mr Manners won't do, my aunt doesn't know your sister, and Mr Manners has no clue about Wickham.'

'You are so right, my dear, please talk to your aunt in the carriage, I suppose your father will have to ride with his wife, and don't hesitate because Bingley is there. He's married to Jane now, and she shouldn't feel obliged to keep secrets from him. Georgiana will forgive me for protecting her.'


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 42

And Georgiana feels a need to be protected at that very moment, the morning isn't at all proceeding as she expected.

For one, Mr Manners never showed.

She expected him to be there at breakfast, and though she doesn't fancy him or anything, she likes him a lot more than any gentleman she has ever met before, and she actually enjoys talking to him, getting to know him better.

But she is very pleased to have Kitty stay behind, spending an entire morning with Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst as only female company is not Georgiana's idea of time well-spent, though of course there is always the piano.

After giving Kitty a piano-lesson, Georgiana practises intensely for an hour, trying to refrain from playing certain sections over and over to not irritate the rest of the company.

And still no Mr Manners.

The other gentlemen are mostly occupied with talking among themselves, several are playing billiards in the adjoining room, and Miss Bingley is talking with animation to Mr Grenfell, probably the most handsome of Bingley's friends, though that depends on one's taste as well, Georgiana prefers Mr Lascelles' looks, but he of course is not of impeccable breeding, being half French.

Still, Miss Bingley likes Mr Grenfell well enough, with his Grecian profile and his steel-blue eyes. She flirts with him, laughs with him, and tries to look her very best, which is not as difficult as Georgiana generally imagines it to be, for Miss Bingley is actually rather pretty, but since Georgiana abhors her, having often seen her at her very worst, being haughty towards anyone less favoured in life than herself, Georgiana's view of Miss Bingley is rather coloured. Actually, rather discoloured, greyed out with black rims.

As Kitty leaves for a moment to check on a surprise she has prepared for Jane's return, Georgiana finishes her serious practise, too bad Elizabeth isn't here to listen in, but that cannot be helped. She is making good progress, Eric will be pleased.

Difficult bits finished, she launches into one of those impressive scales, to see whether Miss Bingley notices. Which she does, she looks up instantly, only to direct her attention back to Mr Grenfell after a minute or so.

After the scales, Georgiana practises the dances, not too difficult, and much more to the liking of the gentlemen in the room than her virtuous piece. Men are so predictable, generally speaking.

Suddenly someone is standing beside her, much too close, a hand on her shoulder way too familiarly, and she can actually feel a solid body lean against her own. Before she can help it, a deep shudder of discomfort courses through her, but the man in question does not register her displeasure. He seems to read it as an encouragement, for he does not step back and even squeezes her a little with a large, strong hand.

Georgiana's shyness returns instantly, this is not gentlemanly behaviour, and she feels threatened by it.

Forcing herself to look up at the perpetrator, she sees to her surprise that it is Mr Grenfell, his steel blue eyes cold while his perfectly shaped mouth smiles down upon her ingratiatingly. The smile does not reach his eyes.

'You play very well, Miss Darcy,' he says in a low voice, a very astute observation indeed, and Georgiana is suitably flattered.

Of course she isn't, but in fact her scorn at his dumb remark doesn't show, she actually does look flattered, because she is flustered by this man's presumption, and her general shyness makes her seem coy, while she is in fact seriously annoyed and also quite a bit afraid.

Such a cold look, as if she is a piece of meat he is thinking of spearing with his fork, chew with a relish, then devour. How can Miss Bingley not see this man's true nature? He is a predator, and his presence makes Georgiana's instincts scream at her, 'Run, run while you still can!'

What does he want from her?

That is what this morning has brought Georgiana so far, breakfast, practise, and now, unwanted intimacies from a beautiful but very calculating man.

She has stopped playing, her body is frozen up with disgust and fear, and her mind is thinking frantically of ways to escape. But nothing comes up, her mind is empty, gibbering, why can't she ever think of something in a crisis? If he stays this close he will make her scream, and that will cause an immense scene, what can she do?

Start playing again.

A scathing retort would be better, but playing is all right for now.

She changes the sheet-music in front of her, using the opportunity to lose the hand on her shoulder and move away from the heavy shape leaning on hers, and starts to play the most intricate piece she knows. It requires total concentration, leaving her unable to give the slightest attention to her unwelcome attendant.

It works for about two minutes, the hand and the pressure of his body are gone, his presence shut out of her awareness, the music starting to calm her down.

And then he commits the worst possible offence: he breaks her concentration by talking to her while she's playing. He's trying to catch her attention, he has no clue of a gentleman's conduct.

'Miss Darcy!' he cries out, 'do you ride?'

Shocked beyond speech, she abruptly stops playing, and looks around the room for help.

Miss Bingley has noticed Mr Grenfell's offensive behaviour, but she merely looks at him for a few moments, then talks to Mr Ponsonby once more, a very fashionable man with a friendly look, but a rather fleshy face.

'Miss Darcy,' her assailant repeats, 'do you ride?'

She dare not refuse to reply, and besides, if she pretends to not have heard, he'll just keep asking, this man doesn't take 'no' for an answer. He'll probably touch her again, and that has to be avoided at all cost, for it will make her freeze up.

'I don't, Mr Grenfell, but I'm planning to learn this summer. My sister-in-law has told me it is great fun.'

'So it is, Miss Darcy, so it is. Of all the outdoor entertainments, riding must be the most pleasurable, and very suitable to a lady as well. I expect the future Mrs Grenfell to learn to ride, in fact, I could teach you, if you ask your brother to invite me over to his estate this summer.'

What? He expects her to have Fitzwilliam ask him over to teach her to ride? Have him touch her legs, and her behind? Elizabeth has described how Peter corrected her seat, and how he showed her the best way to hold her legs to communicate with the horse.

It was apparently very funny, Peter trying to find the right words to tell a lady to adjust her bottom in a certain way, but Georgiana is sure this man would just touch her and squeeze her in the right posture.

Too bad she cannot tell him outright that she'd prefer sleeping with a snake to being in his presence for one more minute, that would be rude and confirm the general opinion that Miss Georgiana Darcy is unbelievably stuck up. So, how to let him down without insulting him? Pretend to be dense! That'll send him back to Miss Bingley instantly.

'But why would you spend so much time on me, Mr Grenfell, if you have already promised to teach your fiancée? Wouldn't she be very jealous, and rightfully so? Or is her father already teaching her?'

See how he handles that.

Not well at all, he looks frustrated and rather stunned, he cannot believe she's that dumb, and he cannot explain what he means, for that would be incredibly forward and indecent. Hinting at it already is, but saying it outright would be unforgivable.

'I'm not engaged, Miss Darcy, I'm afraid you misunderstood. I was contemplating how pleasant it would be if I could marry a young lady who would able to join me in my favourite pastime, riding.'

Now for the kill.

'Oh, I'm sorry Mr Grenfell, I don't believe any of the ladies here ride, except Mrs Darcy and Miss Bennet, who will be Mrs Bingley when she returns. But I suppose you know plenty of young, talented horsewomen among your acquaintance not to have to stay single. You're such a handsome man.'

Well, so much for her shyness, now it is as if she's actually flirting with him!

'What I meant to say, Miss Darcy, is that I could easily teach any young lady who felt the advantages of a connection to me how to ride.'

'That is so nice of you! How fortunate the girl of your choice must be! Of course I'm just sixteen, so I guess that by the time I'd want to get married, I can already ride quite well. It doesn't take much more than two years to learn to ride well, does it Mr Grenfell?'

He looks positively dangerous now, but just his eyes, his mouth smiles patiently as he tries to explain without actually saying anything pertinent.

'No, Miss Darcy, it doesn't take longer. With steady practise, you could be an excellent horse-woman by the time you're eighteen.

As I said, I could help you to learn, this summer on your brother's estate. I have no previous engagements.'

It's time to end this, he's already getting closer to her again, another moment and he has her all frozen up once more.

'Maybe Miss Bingley wants to make an advantageous match, though I doubt whether she'd like to learn to ride.'

Frustration! And a blunt reply.

'Miss Bingley is very beautiful, and very accomplished, but your reputation is so much more outstanding.'

Georgiana is stunned, she has a reputation, an outstanding one?

'Is it, Mr Grenfell? I've never been in society much, I prefer the quiet of home and the company of my brother.'

'Your preference for domestic harmony is an important part of your excellent reputation, Miss Darcy.'

Meaning he wants a quiet, meek wife, to keep safely at home. But what is the rest of her reputation?

'And pray, Mr Grenfell, what else am I praised with?'

He thinks he has her, and tries to flatter her.

'You're reputed to be the best piano-player, and very talented at drawing. And of course you brother is a gentleman of outstanding respectability, with a lot of influence among the well-situated.'

Ah, he wants her brother's connections and her fortune!

Better refer him to Fitzwilliam then, he'll handle the creep after a bit of instruction. Or even better, to Elizabeth, she'll put him in his place.

'And my brother will have a large say in whom I shall connect to his family, Mr Grenfell. He is more like my father than my brother, you see, there is such a difference in age between us, and he is so particular about whom I may associate with.

At this moment, he really likes Mr Manners, but he always listens to Mrs Darcy.

Oh, that's Mr Manners right now, can you believe the coincidence?'

Please, let him come straight towards her, so this man will leave.

He's in doubt, this may give the wrong impression to Mr Manners, but she catches his eye and tries to implore him to help her.

And like a knight in shining armour, he takes the hint and joins them. He is in an excellent mood, and his perfect manners even induce Mr Grenfell to improve his.

The handsome gentleman takes a step backward, restoring the appropriate distance between two unrelated young people, and Mr Manners greets him jovially, after which he addresses Georgiana.

'I'm sorry I'm late, I had a load of letters of business to write in my room. Since he knows his way around Netherfield better than my own valet, and the staff of the house is very busy for the afternoon and the evening of revelling, I asked your brother's valet where to put them to be sent away as soon as the snow clears just enough. He's very polite.'

'Simon always is, he has been my brother's personal attendant for a very long time. I'm glad he could help.

Are you gentlemen already aching for some outdoor activities?'

Including Mr Grenfell in the conversation, Georgiana hopes Mr Manners takes the hint that they were not in a private conversation and that he is welcome to join them.

But Mr Grenfell has apparently decided to give up on flattering Georgiana, she seems so dense he'd better take his suit one level up to Mr Darcy, for he takes his leave and heads to the billiards-room.

'I'm sorry I left you here all by yourself, Miss Darcy, I gathered Miss Catherine would be with you. I hope Grenfell didn't scare you, he can be a bit overwhelming in his attentions, very direct and rather tactile.'

'Actually, Mr Manners, he did put me out, he touched me rather casually and offered to teach me to ride, because he wants his wife-to-be to ride. If only I'd have him invited to Pemberley this summer. I pretended to be really stupid to not have to insult him. He frightened me, with his cold blue eyes.'

Her relief makes her a little too forthcoming, but she doesn't exactly rue her free tongue, for Mr Manners repays her by giving her a little insight in Mr Grenfell's character.

'He is actually looking to marry, and your fortune pleases him very much. I wouldn't have guessed him to be attracted to you, you're so sharp and smart, I'd think he'd prefer his wife meek and a little dumb. Did you just say you pretended to be stupid?'

'I couldn't help it, all my wit left me the instant he touched me, I'm usually very shy, Mr Manners, your polite ways have made me more forthcoming than I usually am.'

'I believe you, and I commend you for putting this in the hands of your brother. Grenfell can be very insistent, and though he is a good friend, I doubt his qualities as a husband. Or a teacher, for that matter. If you lack one at your estate, which I doubt, I will offer myself as alternative, I'd love to spend time teaching you to ride, or anything else.'

'My brother has an excellent teacher at his estate, he has taught Mrs Darcy to ride in a mere two weeks.'

'And we all saw her riding down that hill, she is an excellent horse-woman. Too bad, I'm looking for an excuse to have myself invited to Pemberley for a few weeks this summer, but now I'll have to find another one. You see, I've heard the hunting grounds are amazing, and the library so large one needs a map not to get lost in it.'

She replies with humour, for Mr Manners is so much more subtle about his true intent to visit Pemberley: to try to win her affection, and if other gentlemen are all like Grenfell, out to get her fortune and dominance over her, maybe she should consider him. Even if she doesn't love him, he'd never do her harm.

'Well, now you know whom to apply to. Not only does my brother decide on whom I shall marry, he also decides who get to lose their way in his library and to shoot his game.'

'You are not serious about the marrying, are you? You do have a choice, don't you?'

Poor Mr Manners, her joke went a bit astray, but she'll be as frank to him as she has ever been to Eric.

'It was a joke, Mr Manners, I do get a say in it, but I warn you, I'm not ready to marry at all. I've never been in love, and I have little trust in men's intentions. My affections will not be easy to gain, my need for love is still that of a child, my brother's love and that of my new sister are sufficient for me.'

'Miss Darcy, your frankness is totally disarming, and I stand corrected. Can we be friends, and exchange some of that precious affection that connects people who are unrelated by blood, but very much so by their very nature, for being kindred spirits? Can we give each other amity, goodwill between friends, and see where that leads us?'

'We can, Mr Manners, I like you, and I'm certain my brother likes you. I'm reasonably certain he'll let us be friends.'

More than a year ago, after narrowly escaping an elopement with George Wickham, Georgiana realised that people didn't always marry for love. It had been a bit late for that information to force its way into her mind, but the dramatic way in which she learned the lesson made her unlikely to ever forget it.

It is obvious that Mr Grenfell tries to win her for his own gain, and that she will bitterly regret the results if she falls for his beauty and dashing person. As a prey knows its hunter, her instincts warn her against the man, his cold blue eyes belying his mild voice and his popularity among his friends.

But what about Mr Manners? Is he after Fitzwilliam's connections and her own thirty thousand? Or does he seriously like her as a person? He seemed surprised by her admission that Mr Grenfell scared her, so he must like the outgoing Georgiana she has been able to show him so far because of his easy manners.

Despite not feeling any attraction to him other than as a friend, she is determined to try to figure out his motives and his intentions, there may come a time when she feels a need for a different kind of love, or a wish for her own establishment and who knows, maybe even children. And then, Mr Manners may be her best option.

And what about Eric? Georgiana is nearly certain that he has truly fallen for her person, not for her fortune. He knows he doesn't have a chance to gain it, and he seems almost ashamed of his feelings for her. He has never acknowledged them to Georgiana, has never told her he loves her, though it was obvious to Georgiana even before he did confess his love to Elizabeth.

But Eric cannot be an easy man to live with, he is a demanding teacher, always determined to get the best out of her. Of course he is even harder on himself, and to become the best piano-player possible, and in his own case, the best piano player period, one has to be demanding. Georgiana recognises some of those traits in herself, she can also be ruthless towards herself, but just as easily to others.

Elizabeth clearly pities Miss Bingley, but Georgiana doesn't. The woman just wasn't good enough for Fitzwilliam, had never been good enough, but somehow she had always insisted on ignoring his obvious signs of not being interested, persevering beyond decorum, making a fool of herself. No, despite her shyness towards strangers, Georgiana is convinced she is not an easy person to live with for people she knows. She has always been very obliging to Fitzwilliam, but she loves him, has always loved him so much she cannot go against his wishes.

'You're miles away, Miss Darcy,' Mr Manners observes with a fond smile. He must really be a very kind man, the idea of him spending a few weeks at Pemberley with them is actually quite pleasant. She wouldn't mind getting lost in the library with him, he would never touch her inappropriately.

Still, she guesses he is very strong and very fit beneath those drab clothes, and suddenly she wonders why he dresses so conservatively, but still spends money on having his attire made of excellent cloth and cut to his exact figure.

'Why do you dress like a minister, Mr Manners?' she asks. She has established herself with him as a child, so she may ask impertinent questions like this one.

He is not offended but seems rather pleased, and replies in the same spirit.

'I love beautiful clothes, I love the feel of quality weaves and I can afford them, same with workmanship, a coat fitted by an excellent tailor is such a joy to wear, so I buy my clothes only from the best.

But whenever I let myself be talked into wearing fashionable colours by my tailor, I feel very conspicuous. You see, I know I lack personal beauty, and though I have gotten used to that to a certain extent, whenever I wear fashionable attire I feel the lack much more poignantly than when I wear muted colours.'

Georgiana nods in understanding, she never felt beautiful in her youth, always taller than all the other girls and even the adult ladies. Only recently has she come to realise she is beautiful, but in a different way than she wished for all her youth.

Smiling at her fondly, he asks, 'You are not going to deny my self-critique? Tell me it isn't that bad, that I look like a true gentleman?'

'No, Mr Manners, I'm not. I have never been very good at flattery, and I know what a handsome man looks like. You know my brother, you've met Simon, but you haven't seen my piano-teacher yet. He is stunningly beautiful and very well-dressed, I'm surrounded by handsome men.

But obviously being handsome or beautiful doesn't automatically make one a better person.'

She involuntarily looks around for Mr Grenfell, but he is not in the room. Mr Manners looks positively soft as she continues.

'I used to be rather plain myself, it's just these last few months that I have blossomed, so I remember the feeling. I used to be in the company of beautiful ladies who spent every possible resource on their toilettes in one continuous attempt to impress my brother, always making me feel like an overgrown, clumsy, ugly mouse. They tried not to rub it in, in the hopes of winning my approval, but that seemed to make it worse for me.

I understand why you wear what you wear, and I do think you are a true gentleman. I also think your personality makes you beautiful from the inside, it is clear everybody likes to be with you, which personally I find much more important than physical beauty, since that is entirely accidental and prone to decline.

My aunt Catherine used to be a ravishing beauty, but she's grown very sour and very stout. I look a lot like her, so I intend to enjoy my looks while they last, then try to stay good humoured and at a decent weight.'

'You could never be sour, Miss Darcy, since you will always have at least one great love in your life, as long as you have a piano to play you will be good-humoured. I find your honesty refreshing, and I hope I'll get to meet your teacher. If he's even better looking than Mr Darcy as well as your brother's personal attendant, he must be a true Adonis. Better looking than Grenfell?'

Such a gentleman, Mr Manners, discussing the relative beauty of the men instead of the ladies, he truly knows how to keep a girl interested.

'Much better, Mr Grenfell makes me feel hunted, he looks like a predator. I can see why people would call him handsome, for his features are perfect, and his manners are very fashionable, but I cannot appreciate his beauty for my instincts are telling me to run.

To me, my brother will always be the most beautiful man in the world, but Mr Fielding is at least as handsome as Simon. And when his fingers touch an instrument, his looks don't matter anymore, only the music remains. He makes me sound like an amateur. I wish you had been at his private concert at our town house, it was magnificent. He played his own composition and they went straight to the heart.'

Georgiana realises that she shows her usual adulation of Eric as she thinks of his playing, her cheeks burn and her eyes must spark. But strangely, Mr Manners seems to understand.

'You admire his talent a great deal, Miss Darcy, I guess more than his good looks. Am I right?'

'You are. When he plays it just touches the heart, and when he plays his own compositions his world comes alive to the mind's eye. He says the music takes over his very thoughts until he writes it down. I admire such a talent very much, it is also a gift, like beauty and high birth, but he has worked hard to gain the skills needed to exercise that gift. I hope you will soon get to hear him. I hope everyone soon will know of him, Elizabeth says his own compositions have the potential to bring him to fame even among the lower classes.'

'So Mrs Darcy is an admirer, too?'

'Very much so, yes, and my brother agrees his music is very accessible, though he is not a real connoisseur. My sister is not a great performer, but she hears everything, and music really touches her.'

'Miss Darcy, I admit I am a bit jealous of your little family-party at home, the quiet evenings you must spend together, reading or playing and listening to music. Spending time with one's college friends is great fun, but after ten years of it a bit of homeliness is starting to sound really attractive.'

'And I didn't even tell you about my brother's special talent.'

Georgiana has never realised they had such a good time together, but it is true: having her brother married to Elizabeth and being together most evenings has brought her everything she had dared expect of their company, and more.

'Please tell me, it's not music, if he were a singer or played some other instrument I would have heard. It must be something special.'

'Fitzwilliam can read any book and make you feel you're inside it, part of the action. It's incredible, he doesn't even change his voice for the different characters, but you always know which one is talking. He never does it in public, so few people have heard him.'

Mr Manners finds that very interesting, and is obviously eager to hear for himself.

'I can imagine it, Miss Darcy, your brother has a very fine voice. But he does seem far too down-to-earth to be a fabulous elocutionist. I'd have to hear it myself to believe it.'

Now he is fishing for an invitation, but much more subtly, and Georgiana really thinks she'd like that, get to know this man better, stay in touch, be friends. And yes, see what happens, why not? Eric?

She'll see him at least once a week, until their move back to Pemberley in spring. That's at least three more months, hopefully a solution will present itself before then, for the very idea of missing her lessons makes Georgiana very anxious. And missing him in person?

She's not going to miss Eric in person, is she? They never talk intimately, they only discuss music, and just the pieces he is teaching her. Everything she knows about him, she knows from that one evening of the concert. And from Elizabeth, who talked with him afterwards.

Never mind, she's in company now, and she talks to Mr Manners until Kitty returns.


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 43

When he invites them to join him in a game of billiards, they have to admit neither of them knows how to play, and he promises to teach them next time the table is empty. But for now they decide to watch him play, and he promptly challenges Mr Grenfell.

A tiny voice inside Georgiana's mind asks whether he is doing that for her, and a knowing look from Mr Manners confirms her suspicion.

As they start the game, Mr Manners takes his time to explain the rules to Kitty and Georgiana, and though this seems to irritate Mr Grenfell, he doesn't actually voice his objections to the constant pauses in their game.

Mr Manners does praise his opponent's game a lot, explaining his decisions to the girls, and lauding his success, which seems to please his friend a lot. Is he that easy to manipulate? Or is it Mr Manners' easy familiarity that soothes him again and again? They are reputed to be good friends after all.

The girls watch an entire game, it's a close match, and in the end Mr Manners wins, fortunately, for Georgiana thinks his opponent recognised the challenge, and she wouldn't have liked for Mr Grenfell to have any reason to think he had a right to claim Georgiana's attention or congratulations.

As it is, the men shake hands and Mr Grenfell leaves the table, to find Miss Bingley on his way once more. He accepts her attentions, and they chat very lively. They look great together, very fashionable.

With several of the gentlemen starting to feel a need for exercise, Kitty and Georgiana are left by themselves while most of the others go out for a long walk in the snow. As expected, Mr Manners joins the party, but Mr Grenfell stays with Miss Bingley, who has clearly made her choice.

'They admire you very much, Georgiana, those gentlemen. I suppose it's because you're so much more accomplished than me. And you have such lovely dresses, I wish I could buy my clothes in London.'

Poor Kitty seems envious, and Georgiana decides to try to put things a little in perspective for her.

'Dear Kitty, those men may like the way I look, but most of them don't care three straws about what I can or cannot do. You know what they like so well about me?'

Kitty shakes her head, eager to hear more.

'They like my fortune, and they like my brother's influence and connections. That is what they want from me, not my person, those other things. Though your sisters had much less chance of marrying a gentleman of standing than I have, at least they know their husbands really care for them, they know they are loved. If I were to marry one of these friends of Bingley's, or anyone else, I'd never know what I was getting myself in for.

I cannot trust the motives of any man, Kitty, and while having a fortune and family-connections undoubtedly has made my life a lot easier, it also has this enormous drawback.'

She is certainly not foolish, her new friend, if she were Georgiana wouldn't have had such fun with Kitty. And she is counting on having even more fun together this evening, at the wedding-party, dancing and chatting about their partners afterwards.

But for now, Kitty digests what Georgiana has told her.

'I never saw it that way, Georgiana. Mr Darcy would never have wedded Lizzy if he hadn't loved her a lot. But I've seen Mr Grenfell looking at you, and now you have told me this I do remember wondering whether he really looked at you like a bite of prime steak, or whether that was my imagination, or even my envy speaking.

I'm sorry for you, but I guess Mr Darcy and Lizzy will help you decide whether a man truly loves you or just wants your money.

You know, Mr Manners seems to admire you for yourself, but he does not look as smitten as Bingley or Mr Darcy do. Do you suppose that means he is not to be trusted either?'

She is observant, Miss Catherine Bennet, can it be true that Lydia merely suppressed in her the superb intelligence her elder sisters have? Is there still hope for Kitty? Probably not for a truly advantageous marriage, but she is actually good company, and before whichever gentleman is invited to either London or Pemberley, Georgiana will ask Fitzwilliam to set a date for Kitty's visit.

'You know Kitty, I think you're right. He likes me, and he hints he would like more than friendship, but he is not smitten. I'm going to keep a close eye on him, see if I can find out his feelings for me. I'm not in love with him, but I was considering him as a gentleman who can be trusted. Thank you for putting me on my guard.

And as to your dresses, when you come to stay with us in London we'll get you some really nice ones. We'll go shopping with Simon, that sounds really weird, go shopping with a manservant, but he pretends to carry our packages, and actually gives us the very best advice. Wait until you see my dress this afternoon, you'll just not believe a man chose that for me.

Elizabeth chose her own dress, and it's absolutely stunning, but Simon pointed out her little hat and found her necklace.

And we'll go to the theatre again, and maybe row on a pond in a park, and maybe you can learn how to ride. Though we'd better do that at Pemberley, with Peter the stable-boy, he's the best teacher. Anyway, don't worry about the dresses, we'll get them for you, I promise.'

'Will you help me get accomplishments, Georgiana?'

'I can help you to learn to draw and play the piano, but to learn French you'd better get lessons. Just ask Mr Bennet, he'll let you have them. Or start in London, ask Mrs Annesley. She used to be my companion, and before that she was a governess, I'm sure she still loves to teach. She can help you get started. But I warn you, learning French is a lot of work!

Come, let's see what all the fuss is about, maybe it's your sister coming back!'

And indeed, there is a rush of activity at the front door, people coming in in thick coats, covered in snow. Georgiana recognises Fitzwilliam, he's taller than anyone else in this company, and Elizabeth's lovely long coat is also unmistakeable.

The bride and groom are already well inside, Bingley helping Jane out of her coat then handing it to a servant, both have red cheeks from the cold, but also from happiness, Georgiana guesses.

Kitty runs at her eldest sister and her new brother, and congratulates both of them heartily. Well, a good example should be followed, so Georgiana follows suit, it's not very decorous, but somehow this wedding is turning into quite an informal occasion anyway because of the snow.

Shaking hands with Bingley and kissing Jane, she's so sweet, who wouldn't want to kiss her, Georgiana expresses her happiness that they have managed to reach the church despite the weather. They both smile, and Bingley suddenly seems to remember something.

'Dear Georgiana, I'm afraid the orchestra will not be able to make it because of the snow, will you be so kind as to provide us with some music today? Of course there will be others to take your place now and again so you can dance with my friend Manners, and your brother, but I dare say you're the best player we have.'

Since Georgiana is sure of that, she gracefully accedes, she can play all day long without ever getting fed up. And it will keep Mr Grenfell out of her hair, if Fitzwilliam or Elizabeth haven't solved that little problem by then.

Other people are now approaching to offer their best wishes to the happy couple, and Georgiana looks around to find her brother and sister to inform them about Mr Grenfell's intentions.

And her eyes meet George Wickham's at less than a foot's distance.

The impudent fellow has sneaked up on her, at least that is what it feels like, and the sight of his handsome face with a soft expression brings back the past instantly.

It has been nearly two years since she saw him last, just before Fitzwilliam arrived and she confessed their plans to him, and Wickham has changed as much as she herself must have in that short time.

Though he behaves as charmingly as he used to, something about him is different, he looks old and tired somehow. He is dressed rather handsomely, but Georgiana can clearly recognise the cheap quality cloth of his coat, the slight sag of the collar and the tiny wrench of one sleeve. His cravat is suffering from lack of attention, this is a man who is trying to hide a lack of money, and barely succeeding.

Concentrating on detail has enabled her to prevent blushing and looking down, Georgiana knows she is very pretty these days, as well as independently wealthy, and she lifts her head and greets him with her sweetest smile.

'Mr Wickham, such a pleasure to see you, you haven't changed a bit! Have you had a difficult trip over?'

A little lie for propriety, he actually looks much worse than he used to. And he clearly did not expect her to rise to the challenge, he hesitates just an instant, looking rather stunned, actually. But he wouldn't be Wickham if he didn't answer readily and gently.

'Not at all, Miss Darcy, we merely followed your brother's carriage to get here, it was a breeze, thank you so much for asking. Miss Darcy, pardon my frankness, but you have really come into your own the last year, you're so grown up and so beautiful, I'm almost struck dumb.'

Almost, yes, but not entirely, not Wickham. But at least he is polite, and he knows not to touch her, unlike Mr Grenfell.

'Thank you for your compliments, Mr Wickham. Will you introduce me to your lady wife? She's the only one of my sisters I haven't met as yet.'

From the corner of her eye she can see Fitzwilliam with a mixture of concern and anger in his features, and she takes a moment to look at him soothingly, to let him know she has the situation under control. After this morning, there is little that can fluster Georgiana Darcy, she single-handedly conquered her shyness to lead an obnoxious would-be-suitor a merry chase until help arrived.

Even more surprised, Wickham does exactly what she asks.

'Miss Darcy, please meet my lovely wife Mrs Lydia Wickham, and Mrs Wickham, I'm very pleased to introduce you to Miss Darcy.'

Lydia doesn't look like a simpleton, she's pretty, but her dress is as badly fitted as Wickham's coat, and still she seems radiant. Elizabeth's youngest sister is truly very happy to have caught this smirking nobody. And she's actually quite nice, she shakes hands with Georgiana amiably and exclaims, 'Miss Darcy, I have so wanted to meet you! You're much handsomer than I expected, and your dress and little hat are just a dream! Don't you think my husband is the handsomest man that was ever seen? I feel so sorry for all the rest of you ladies that there was only one Wickham!'

She truly means it, it's just incredible! Lydia knows Wickham better than anyone, excepting maybe Fitzwilliam, and she still likes him! Now totally amazed herself, Lydia continues.

'Though Lizzy seems to like Mr Darcy reasonably well, can you imagine that? He's handsome, and rich, but still...

Oh, I'm sorry Miss Darcy, he's your brother of course, I didn't mean to make it seem as if he's no good.'

'But he's just not Mr Wickham, I guess,' Georgiana fills in with humour.

'Exactly! You understand, Miss Darcy, Lizzy always looks at me with such loftiness. As if she didn't want him for herself.'

Lydia seems to have forgotten that her husband is standing right next to her, and he has caught Georgiana's ironic tone very well, but apparently he's used to Lydia's ramblings and has grown very proficient at ignoring them.

Seeing Elizabeth approach, undoubtedly to save her from the couple she fears will hurt her sister-in-law, Georgiana takes leave quickly.

'I'm sure we'll have another chance to meet today, it was so nice meeting you, Mrs Wickham!'

She smiles, and even means it, Lydia may be foolish, but she's not really a bad person. Wickham gets a polite nod, and Georgiana embraces Elizabeth warmly.

'Elizabeth, I'm so glad you're back safely! Not that I worried much during your absence, I have great trust in my brother's motives to keep you well-protected, but still, snow can be dangerous.'

Mr Wickham does not like to see the two of them intimate, and when Georgiana mentions her brother, his open expression shows a fleeting look of pain. Somehow he really hates Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam being so much in love. Oh well, it was his own choice to behave so miserably, Georgiana feels little empathy towards him. And why be sad? He's got the most loving wife a man could ever wish for!

As they walk off together, Elizabeth says softly, 'We kept an eye on you and you seemed to be handling yourself excellently, even against both of them. But enough is enough, there is only so much 'my dear Wickham' any person can take.

How was your morning?'

'Absolutely frightful!' Georgiana exclaims, and at her sister's incredulous expression, she says, quietly, 'let's go somewhere private for a few moments, Fitzwilliam too, and I'll tell you both. I may need rescuing tonight, and not from the couple we just left.'

Elizabeth takes her to their bedroom, where Fitzwilliam is obviously waiting for his beloved, not for his sister. But thankfully he is at least still dressed, and of course happy to see Georgiana anyway.

'I'm sorry I left before you were rid of Wickham, Georgiana, Elizabeth sent me to our room, I suppose she was afraid I'd strangle him after all. The insolence, to confront you like that, I was ready to do something to him! Fortunately I always obey my wife. I'm back to normal, Elizabeth, can I go to the party tonight?'

'Only if you promise not to lose your self-control again, Mr Darcy. You almost let Mr Wickham get to you again, you really should behave in a more gentleman-like manner. It's not just beautiful coats and intricately pleated cravats that make a gentleman you know.'

Something is going on between those two. The way Elizabeth says 'Mr Darcy', and him watching her in adulation, it's rather disconcerting, there is a certain tension in this room that is none of her business. It's kind of embarrassing to be here right now.

But she really needs to tell this, she dare not risk Fitzwilliam inviting Mr Grenfell to Pemberley or their London house in total ignorance of what that would do to his sister. But first, ignore those looks, the tone at which Elizabeth talked to her brother, so bossy.

'So did you really send Fitzwilliam to your room and stay behind to save me from Wickham?'

'And Lydia. She can easily talk a person to death, you know, she's such a bore, and she doesn't let anyone get a word in edgewise.'

'Elizabeth, what is going on? Are you making fun of me?'

Georgiana has had it, what is it with these two, they behave like children!

'I'm sorry, Georgiana,' her brother now says, soothingly. 'I'm afraid you caught us at a bad time, it's a kind of game we play together, and when we get started it's not easy to stop. We'll behave, you've something on your mind, that's obvious. Is it Wickham? Elizabeth really told me I'd better leave and let her handle him.'

Compared to Mr Grenfell, Wickham is nothing! He can't hurt her anymore, she's a woman now, and besides, Wickham would never touch her without her consent. A bit out of sorts now, she blurts out all her frustration of the morning.

'No, it's not him, I can handle George Wickham. It's Mr Grenfell.'

And she tells the whole story, his familiar way of touching her, his hints at wanting to marry her, his proposition to have him invited to Pemberley.

Fitzwilliam is ready to get angry again, but Elizabeth soothes him with a single touch on his shoulder, the exact spot where Mr Grenfell touched Georgiana to be precise. But that touch gave her the creeps.

'Georgiana is beautiful, and rich, and your sister. You should expect men to start paying attention to her, and not all of them are subtle.

You say you told him Fitzwilliam preferred Mr Manners?'

She nods.

'And Mr Manners knows about this?'

'He thought it was a good joke, though he did angle for an invitation himself.'

'And you don't mind if he gets it?'

Without blushing or showing any sign of shyness or particular interest, Georgiana admits, 'No, I actually want to get to know him better, he's the first gentleman I actually like. Well, except Bingley and your father. And I suppose I'll like Mr Gardiner once I get to know him.'

'Well, then it's easy. We invite him to London for Christmas, and if that is a success, he can come to Pemberley. Do you agree, Fitzwilliam, you like him, too, don't you?'

Her brother looks at Elizabeth in that weird way again, slowly Georgiana's mind starts to get a lead on it. He expected Elizabeth to return by herself, after having saved Georgiana. Then that so-called game of theirs...must be...how they make love?

That cannot be true, but the reasoning is sound. They were alone, no Simon or Fanny in sight, the party starting in a hour or so and everybody retreating to their own rooms to change.

Fortunately, Fitzwilliam breaks her train of thought by answering his beloved's question.

'Yes, I like Mr Manners a lot. He is a true gentleman, well-dressed, in possession of a good fortune, smart, well-spoken and most importantly, very outgoing. I feel very comfortable in his presence. He's not handsome, though.'

'But he is so charming, to me it totally makes up for his lack of personal beauty.

Do you agree, Georgiana, that you can get rid of Mr Grenfell by your brother inviting his rival over?'

Georgiana certainly thinks he'd let go of the idea of marriage, but she wouldn't feel much safer in his presence, which she tries to explain to her sister, after which Elizabeth continues with some incredulity.

'You don't really think he'd do more than touch you casually? If you really feel threatened by him physically you can avoid being alone with him, and once the party starts, it will be impossible to be alone anywhere, and there will be plenty of people looking out for you.'

'And I'm going to be stuck behind the piano most of the night, Bingley said the orchestra wouldn't come.'

'Do you mind?' Elizabeth asked, 'you know Mary can do the honours.'

Laughing, Georgiana offers, 'She can take her turn, if she wants to. But I like playing, so I don't mind.

And somehow I'd like you to invite Mr Manners over, yes. I told him I wasn't ready to for marriage yet, and he asked me whether we could be friends instead. I was quite distraught with what happened, but in his presence I settled really quickly.

Though I don't think he's in love with me, he has made his interest clear, but Kitty observed he didn't look like Bingley or Fitzwilliam at all, not in love. I hadn't realised that, but when she said that I knew it was true.

And still I want to be friends with him, if only to find out what he wants from me, my fortune, your connections, something else?'

'Maybe he's just not very passionate?' Elizabeth suggests.

But after some thinking, she admits, 'No, you're both right, he doesn't act like a man in love. But then, he met you just three days ago. Fitzwilliam took months to fall in love with me, didn't you?'

'Actually, I think it was weeks. By the time Jane was recovered and you both left Netherfield, I think I was lost. But I'm ashamed to admit that had you been rich and connected, I think I would have fallen for you within the week.'

Of course that makes him look at Elizabeth in that certain way again, and now Georgiana has had enough. It's time she leave them by themselves, and she gets up and says, 'I suppose Fanny will help me dress first?'

'Yes, please, Georgiana,' Elizabeth replies absently, 'we won't be needing any help for half an hour. Have fun!'


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 44

An hour and a half later, the whole party of revellers gathers for a feast in honour of the bride and groom.

Elizabeth of course wears her beautiful dress with the jacket from their London excursion, little hat and copper necklace finishing her ensemble. The elaborate hairstyle that has taken Fanny at least an hour to perfect feels strange to Elizabeth, as if her head is slightly out of balance.

She knows, however, that it is very becoming, and she will get used to the balancing act of hair and hat over her left ear before the dancing starts.

Strangely enough, she is looking forward very much to this evening. Balls used to be rather nerve-wrecking to both herself and Jane, always waiting for their mother or Lydia to make a spectacle of themselves, always hoping to be able to prevent some disaster from embarrassing them.

But now? Let Mrs Bennet talk too loudly, Jane is much too involved with her brand new husband to hear.

Is Lydia flirting with a gentleman not her husband or kissing her dear Wickham a tiny bit too intimately? Not Elizabeth's problem!

With Georgiana the very epitome of good manners and Kitty following her excellent example, and Mr Bennet busy talking politics with his brother and crops with Bingley's friends, the eldest daughters of the Bennet family can finally enjoy a ball without fear of exposure or shame.

When they have all eaten more than anyone should, the ladies move to the drawing-room, and Elizabeth feels a hand touch her arm. It's Lydia, and she is obviously stunned by her sister's apparel.

'Lizzy, you look like a queen in that dress! It's so strange-looking, but in a good way.

And the hat and coat, no-one has one like them here, or at the camp. Oh, and just look at your necklace, where did you dig that up?'

Lydia has no idea how close to the truth her remark is, Fanny and Simon did in a way dig it up, out of a forgotten drawer at the London house.

'I thought I would be jealous of you and Jane having a rich husband, Lizzy, and seeing you dressed so beautifully I am a bit. But I cannot imagine what it would be like to live without my dear Wickham.

And I suppose it is only fair that your Mr Darcy should be so rich, for Wickham says it must be difficult for you to live with such an overbearing man, it'll take all those beautiful dresses to make up for that. I do feel sorry for you, though you seem to handle it really well. You always were the strongest-minded of all of us.'

Elizabeth has a feeling this conversation is going somewhere, her little sister seems out of sorts despite her usual rantings, so she ignores Lydia's unthinking, insulting remarks and waits for her sister to get to the point.

And Lydia does so quickly for once, this must be important.

'Dear Lizzy, everyone knows you're the smartest, and I have a big problem so I thought I'd ask you, though I suppose you'll be mad at me again.'

Oh Lydia, what did she do this time? Was finally having caught her very dear Wickham not good enough, did she throw away what reputation she still had after her elopement on another officer?

'Can we go somewhere quiet, where we can talk?'

Suddenly, Lydia is almost in tears, her usual bluster nowhere to be seen.

Elizabeth takes her to the little sitting-room that is commonly used for private conversations in this house. On her way out, she makes sure to catch Georgiana's eye, and gets a wink in return.

As soon as they get to the private room, Lydia actually bursts into tears, and her elder sister tries to comfort her boisterous sibling.

'I so wish for a baby, Elizabeth, a little girl or boy of our very own, my dear Wickham and me. Most of my friends at the camp have children, and I so wished to have one myself.'

Which she undoubtedly will, she's from a very prolific family, and a mere seventeen years old by now, nothing will stop her from getting with child before she is twenty, Elizabeth fears. So why the tears? She has never seen Lydia cry before, and this is real, no doubt about it. Whatever happened?

'I think I am with child now, Elizabeth, I feel different. May I speak freely?'

Of course she may, they're sisters. But whatever can be the trouble if she has what she wants so desperately? She's way too young to be a good mother in Elizabeth's opinion, but children don't ask permission from their aunts before they are conceived.

'I have sudden spells of sadness, and I've missed a moon time. My best friend at the camp said it was a sure sign I was with child, so I told Wickham.'

Lydia hides her face in her hands and cries heartbreakingly. Then she speaks up with a broken voice, 'Dear Lizzy, he wasn't happy at all, he said I was way too young and foolish to raise a child. He wants me to take ergot, he says I can have a baby in two years, when I'm grown up and have hopefully gained some sense. But Lizzy, I don't want to take ergot. I want the baby.'

Ergot? That's not merely sinful, it's incredibly dangerous to the woman taking it. Fitzwilliam has told her about the sickness from spoiled grain that kills people in excruciating pain, which also causes stillbirths among rich and poor alike.

And he did tell her some women take it to stop an unwanted pregnancy.

But Wickham forcing Lydia to take it? He knew there would be consequences to their behaviour, according to Fitzwilliam they were already intimate when he traced them in London, before they were even married.

In abhorrence, she exclaims, 'Lydia, ergot? That stuff will kill you as easily as it will the seed you are carrying within you! You haven't taken it already, have you?'

Her sister seems a tiny bit relieved, did she expect Elizabeth to urge her to do the same as Wickham? But Lydia is by no means convinced all will be well.

'I haven't, Lizzy, I wasn't sure I was with child anyway, and this was just last Tuesday, he didn't have time to find someone to do it, we had to leave for the wedding. But I'm so afraid he'll convince me to take it when we return, I cannot refuse him, I love him so much!

Lizzy, I know I haven't always been very grown-up, but I have such good friends at the camp, they want me to have a baby of my own, they would help me so much. And if Wickham is sent overseas, he may be killed, and I'll be left all by myself, if I could only have his baby I'd always have a part of him with me.'

Poor Lydia, she understands the dangers to her beloved husband, probably thanks to her friends at the camp, and no matter how little he loves her back, Lydia's love for him is real, as real as her own love for Fitzwilliam. Though Elizabeth is not as eager to have a child, but that may also be because she understands the impact a baby would have on her life.

There is but one thing to do, it will not be pleasant but it has to be done: she must confront Wickham herself.

Her conversation with Wickham at Longbourn just yesterday gives her hope her efforts will not be in vain, Lydia's confession has given Elizabeth some insight in his reasons to talk to Elizabeth as he did, and her reminder that Jane and herself sprung from a similar mother clearly had an impact on him. Maybe he has already reviewed his opinion, and not told Lydia about it.

Though Elizabeth agrees with him that Lydia is not ready for a child at all, he must see that it is wrong to risk his soul and the life of the woman he decided to wed to save himself the cost of a good nanny.

Besides, if indeed the officer's wives are so keen and able to help, maybe Lydia doesn't even need a nanny. Kitty has improved so much with nothing more than a good example and some time spent on instruction, who knows how well Lydia would adapt to motherhood in the army camp?

Suddenly she feels a certain interest in seeing that camp, meeting the women who have such an influence on her sister. Her father more or less gave up on his wife and merely laughed at her foolishness, he never had the patience to try to educate her. What if the wives at the camp can grind some sense in Lydia, wouldn't that have a chance to make her sister less flighty?

'I'll talk to him, Lydia.'

Before she can tell her sister they already talked about this yesterday, Lydia falls on her neck, crying stormily.

'Thank you, Lizzy, thank you so much! I hoped you would talk to Wickham, he has such respect for you, I've wondered why the two of you never got together, though I'm glad of it.'

Her sister is almost unbearably thoughtless, how can she not understand these things?

'Think Lydia! Even if Mr Wickham and I had wanted to marry, what would we have lived on?'

It is actually pretty funny to see Lydia thinking back to the time when it seemed as if her elder sister would make a match with Wickham. After quite some time, her face shows she thinks she has the solution, and her reply at first pleases Elizabeth.

'I've got it, Lizzy! Mr Darcy gave us money and got Wickham his commission! He wouldn't have given that to the two of you, just like that.'

Getting close to the truth, dear Lydia. She can do some hard thinking if properly guided.

'Oh my Lord, Lizzy, did he do that for you?'

Elizabeth is pleased, Lydia may not be totally hopeless after all, maybe what Fitzwilliam did for her will cause her sister to feel some affection for him instead of a respect bordering on fear. Elizabeth nods slightly to confirm.

Then Lydia adds something that startles Elizabeth.

'Oh my Lord, Lizzy, so Mr Darcy demanded you marry him for that? You married him for me? I'm so sorry I never realised, you sacrificed your happiness for me, so I could marry Wickham! Thank you ever so much!'

Lydia, Lydia, she was so close! Used to ignoring her little sister's foolishness, Elizabeth finally decides matters cannot go on like this, she has to explain so Lydia finally understands not everyone yearns for Wickham like she does.

'Dear sister,' she starts, 'you are quite mistaken. Though Mr Darcy did give Mr Wickham the money to please me, he did not force me to marry him.

Why would he, Lydia? I have no fortune, no important family or friends, nothing to make him want to marry me. Nothing but love, Lydia.

Mr Darcy loves me as much as you love Mr Wickham, and I hurt him very much by not loving him in return. But he did not want me to be unhappy and yes, Lydia, shamed by your elopement, so he gave Mr Wickham money to marry you, so you would have something to live on.

But he did not ask for a return, in fact he tried to keep it a secret, remember how you were not supposed to tell us he was at your wedding?'

As Elizabeth mentions shame, Lydia's face shuts down for a second, but she does feel the power of the story so she listens to her sister's explanation attentively.

'So he did that because he loved you so much? That is so romantic, Lizzy! And you decided to marry him since you couldn't marry Wickham anyway and Mr Darcy loved you and was very rich?'

Patience, Elizabeth, try to explain. There will never be a better chance to catch Lydia's attention. Use the romance angle.

'No Lydia, I didn't marry him for his money. Nor because he loved me so much and hurt so much over me. I didn't even know that then for he only told me later.

When I found out Mr Darcy was not the worthless man Mr Wickham had told me he was, but in fact a very good man, who helps people just because he can, like he helped you marry Mr Wickham, I started to become interested in him.

And then he was very nice to me, to aunt and uncle Gardiner, and even to you, a girl he didn't know at all. His staff, his sister, everyone loved him so much, I slowly started to see his worth and I fell in love with him.

And now we are very happy together, Lydia, we love each other very much. I didn't marry him for you, or because I had to, I married him because I had come to love him.'

And now she's at it, better tell her the truth about Wickham as well.

'I will talk to Mr Wickham, Lydia, though I have not liked him since I found out he had lied to me about Mr Darcy treating him unfairly. But you are my sister and I want you to be happy, so I will be polite to him and convince him to let you have your baby.

However, Lydia, do not think I love him or have ever loved him, I do not envy you your husband for I love my own much better. Watch us if you still don't believe me, I'm sure you recognise love when you see it.'

Actually, she cannot, or she would know Wickham doesn't love her. But Lydia believing her sister married a spoiled rich noble under pressure is too damaging to everyone involved.

'Now let's go back to the party, I will talk to Mr Wickham as soon as possible, you enjoy yourself dancing while you still can. Once you have a baby, everything will change.'

'That's what my friend Janet said, I wish you could come to visit and meet her, and the others. They often talk like you and Jane used to do, telling me to pay attention and take heed, but somehow it's easier to believe when it's not my sisters saying it.

Thank you ever so much, dear Lizzy, I'm happy now. I'll show Wickham I will be the best mother in the world to our baby and he will be so proud of me.'

When they return, the gentlemen are in the drawing-room, and coffee is served. Fitzwilliam immediately comes towards her, he wants to kiss her but he won't in company, though of course Lydia runs at her husband and kisses him in delight. Wickham doesn't show embarrassment anymore, just resignation.

This time, Elizabeth can understand Lydia's show of affection, she was worried and now she feels relieved, and she just cannot control her feelings like a normal gentleman's daughter.

A beloved voice addresses her.

'I suppose you can use a cup of coffee, whatever that was about?'

She smiles at Fitzwilliam and acknowledges her need for a heartening beverage, adding, 'Let's sit in an empty corner for a moment, I need a bit of quiet and a loving touch, as well as a cup of coffee, to bring me back to the party-spirit.'

Even with so many people in one place it is possible to retreat for a few moments, and Darcy signals a servant to bring coffee, then leads his beloved to a relatively secluded spot in the room, the piano-stool.

Georgiana is chatting with Mr Gardiner and Mrs Gardiner, in the company of Jane and Kitty, and Mr Grenfell is talking to Miss Bingley once again, gesticulating broadly. It seems as if Georgiana has nothing to fear of him, he doesn't pay the slightest attention to her, he seems totally preoccupied by the sister of the groom, who looks ravishing in a revealing dress of the deepest green silk.

Mr Manners is in discussion with his friends, Bingley included, but he seems to be keeping an eye on Georgiana and his friend Grenfell. Which in the case of Mr Manners is not disconcerting, but actually a reassuring thought.

A cup of coffee in hand, Darcy and Elizabeth sit side by side on the piano stool, not very comfortable but very intimate. Elizabeth takes his hand, and in a low voice drops her bombshell.

'Lydia thinks she is with child. She's had several occurrences that prove it, according to her friends at the camp.'

And as Darcy stares at her in abhorrence, the girl has just turned seventeen and hasn't even been married half a year, his beloved drops the next.

'Wickham wants her to take ergot and get rid of it. Apparently he said she is too young to take care of a baby. But this was before they came here, I hope I changed his mind.'

'She ís too young to care for a child,' Darcy comments, obviously shocked, 'but she is also much too young to die in agony. How did she react, did she cry?'

'She did, she wants a baby desperately because she is afraid he will be killed in action and she wants his child to remember him by.'

Darcy shakes his head, 'Girls.. I'm glad you don't have your head stuffed full of romantic notions. Are you going to confront him?'

'Of course I am, he is trying to kill my baby-sister. I'm going to give him a piece of my mind, and depending on his reply I may even threaten him with the law. I suppose eternal damnation won't make an impression on him.'

'No it won't. Remember him yesterday? All depressed and misunderstood?'

Elizabeth nods.

'Well, when we were having our brandy just now, he was his good old self, outgoing, well-mannered and very entertaining. I think only Manners saw through him straight away, and he saved me from feeling left out by giving me an honest account of my sister's interaction with Mr Grenfell, as far as he had seen it. He supported her opinion, that she was being hunted.

I asked him to visit at Christmas, and he accepted eagerly. You know Georgiana says he's not in love with her, but I'm inclined to think he's just not the kind to fall head over heels in love, for he spoke of her with sincere affection. He keeps growing on me, Elizabeth, he's not handsome but that is the only thing I can hold against him.

He says he's an avid sportsman, he loves fishing as well. If I were to invite him to Pemberley, would that keep you from going along on a hunt?'

'I don't think so, love, I really want to ride astride and join you in the hunt.

But what about Lydia?'

'Don't worry, love, I think you have prepared Mr Wickham for the arrival of a little Elizabeth or a little George well enough. You talk to him and he'll tell you he'll spend his last penny on a superb nurse. I don't like George Wickham, Elizabeth, but I think he will be an excellent father, he's not cruel or unfeeling. He just has bad morals, and a nanny, and later a governess, can do quite a lot to compensate for that.

And anyway, you cannot prevent them from having children, though I'm sure you can prevent your brother-in-law from feeding his wife ergot.

Come, let's join the crowd, I think the dancing is about to start.'

As it turns out, the orchestra has managed to make it to Netherfield after all, and soon they are all assembled on the dance-floor, eager to follow the happy newly-weds into the first dance.

Elizabeth really is the most beautiful lady of the whole party, excepting the new Mrs Bingley. But no, frankly not. To Darcy, his wife is actually more beautiful than his sister-in-law, Jane may be more beautiful from the outside, but in Elizabeth a fire burns that to Darcy will always set her apart from every other woman in the world.

And he is not the only man to admire her, every man looks at least twice at his beloved in her exceptional dress, which makes him very proud to have such a beautiful woman at his side, actually in love with him.

As Jane and Bingley lead all the couples into the first dance, it is clear Elizabeth is thinking of the last time they danced together at a ball, in this same room.

'I'm still so embarrassed at the spectacle my relatives made of themselves,' she whispers to Darcy, who clearly remembers that night. He remembers Mr Collins introducing himself, not at all getting Darcy's hints to be done with it after ten minutes of discourse on Lady Catherine's magnificence, and Mrs Bennet speculating loudly about the upcoming marriage of Miss Bennet and Bingley.

But those memories have lost their meaning, generally Darcy would dare say all the people involved have gained some decorum, including himself, though Mrs Bennet is probably only momentarily influenced for the better by her sister-in-law Mrs Gardiner, who would not encourage her to be as boisterous as her younger daughters.

And frankly, Georgiana is making the most of being among the girls, Maria has made it to the party after all, and the three girls are paired off with some of Bingley's friends, Mr Manners, of course, the French guy, and the thin, dark popinjay.

No, the memory that still has some hold over Darcy is that of dancing with Elizabeth, more than a little love-struck, hardly able to talk from feeling, and her trying to get him to talk with piquant remarks on his person. How didn't he see that she disliked him intensely?

It is actually painful to remember every sentence, every word they exchanged, for now he realises again how his behaviour towards her fed her dislike of him, the disdain with which he spoke of Wickham without explaining, his coldness when she persisted, he could have paid her a compliment, or said something nice! Instead he tried to enjoy their moments together in silence, making her even more uncomfortable.

'I suppose you were reviewing all your memories, too,' she says laughing. 'And beating yourself up about something you did, if I know your facial expressions at all by now.'

Her smile is worth millions, she has developed so much since that evening at the ball, and she will never stop learning, keeping him on his toes in the process.

'You caught me, love, I was reviewing my memories of the ball, and I wondered how I never suspected your intense dislike of me, you made it so very clear how you felt, how could I have missed it? If only I had tried to make myself agreeable to you, I could have explained about Wickham, I could have said something nice, like, 'Miss Elizabeth, you look ravishing as usual. Would you allow me to visit you and talk about books or ramble along a few lanes together?'

I really thought you'd order your wedding dress if I did that.'

'Miss Bingley would have, my love, as well as plenty of other young ladies of your acquaintance.

Please don't make yourself unhappy over the past, you didn't know me at all, how could you have known I was serious?

Though if it was all a ploy to catch you, I must have had a strange notion of what men liked to hear, for I was really nasty to you. I'm ashamed to remember, truly.'

She squeezes his hand and shakes her head as if to clear it of memories, then says gaily, 'Let's just forget the whole affair and be glad things worked out against the odds, and celebrate our union, and that of Jane and Bingley. They must be so very happy!'

Which they do, for at least four dances, mostly in silence, allowing Darcy to relish dancing with the woman of his dreams this time.

Until Mr Bennet claims his daughter.

'Come Darcy, you have her to yourself all the time, let a poor father have a dance with his beautiful daughter before you take her away from him again.'

Of course he lets his beloved out of his hands for a while, to find Miss Bingley eyeing him wistfully.

Pretending not to notice he checks on his sister, who is dancing with Mr Manners, he's certainly a very good dancer, he looks very agile and he leads very strongly. Georgie clearly likes to dance with him.

Wickham is dancing with Kitty, and Lydia with Grenfell, trust her to pick the handsomest man of the lot.

Oh well, better get it over with then.

'Miss Bingley, would you care to dance the next dance with me?'

She is pleased, and she looks rather nice, but Darcy cannot remember why he ever liked her. He must have been a different man himself, she is so mean, and so petty. But, she's elegant and a good dancer, the dance will be over in but a moment.

'Mr Darcy, I guess you're still the handsomest man of my acquaintance, your valet has outdone himself tonight. And you've done wonders with Miss Elizabeth, she has been so lady-like these last few days.'

Well, at least Miss Bingley hasn't changed, still as mean as ever.

'She has, hasn't she? I'll be glad to have her to myself again, she's taking her new role as Mrs Darcy of Pemberley so seriously, I really have to work hard to get an impertinent remark or a few kisses out of her in public. Fortunately I'm not above begging.'

The mention of 'Mrs Darcy' and 'Pemberley' really hits the mark, that hurt, Miss Bingley will not deliver veiled insults against his beloved wife again.

To complete the whole, he throws a yearning look at Elizabeth as she passes in the dance, and gets a big wink in return.

After that, Miss Bingley wisely changes the subject, and to Darcy's immense joy she talks about Grenfell admiring her.

'He is so handsome and such an excellent sportsman, and I do believe we have the exact same taste in literature. His estate is magnificent, and he tells me he has a house in town just waiting for a lady's touch. So charming!'

Darcy nods, and asks, 'Did he offer to teach you how to ride?'

'How did you know? He did, but I told him I don't like horses, the smell gets into everything, Charles always smells of horse.'

As does Darcy, as will Grenfell once the snow melts. But Grenfell apparently really wants his future bride to ride, he was not trying to get into Georgiana's good graces by offering her instruction.

'But not today, Miss Bingley, today your brother smelled of lavender and happiness. See them dance together once more.'

As groom, Bingley has to accept every man wanting to dance with the bride, and he bears it admirably, dancing with every lady in the room in turns until he can hold his beloved wife in his arms again.

When the dance ends, Darcy does not offer to continue to dance with Miss Bingley, but sits one out with Mr and Mrs Gardiner instead. They observe the couples, and comment on the usual goings on, until Mrs Gardiner remarks, 'Your sister has grown up so fast since last summer, Mr Darcy, she seems to have gotten over her shyness altogether, see her dance so easily with Mr Wickham. Though of course he's not a total stranger to her, you all more or less grew up together, didn't you?'

Darcy experiences a certain shock at seeing Wickham with his sister, but Mrs Gardiner is right, they look like two young people who grew up together. Georgiana, who is usually shy like himself, is dancing with the man whom she should rightly hate, and she seems entirely comfortable doing so.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 45

Which is totally true. After dancing with Mr Manners for quite some time, they have so much to talk about, and he is such a good dancer, he rather upsets her, just when they are about to part to dance with someone else for a change.

As Wickham approaches casually, obviously to ask her to dance with him, Mr Manners whispers, 'You're not going to dance with him, are you, after what he did to you?'

That is such a shock, how could he know? She cannot imagine her brother or Elizabeth talking, and Jane is discretion itself, there is no way she'd have told Mr Manners. No-one else knows.

'I'm sorry, Miss Darcy, I've upset you. Will you please forgive my indiscretion, and my jealous remark? I really care for you, but I have no right to patronize you, please forgive me.'

He does look very repentant, and he is so charming, what can Georgiana do but tell him he is forgiven, and save the puzzle of how he knew for later? For now, she is going to dance, and certainly not with Wickham, but not because he still has power over her, but because she wants to dance with her brother, indeed the handsomest man of them all.

She looks around to find him, only to see Mr Grenfell come straight at her from the opposite side of where Wickham is nearing. This cannot be happening! She is planning to amuse herself at this celebration, and now she is dodging mercenaries from the past and the present?

Choosing instantly, she faces Wickham with a smile, and he bows and offers his hand, undoubtedly expecting to surprise her, but finding her ready and even eager to dance with him instead.

He is a very able dancer, not as strong a lead as Mr Manners, but good enough, and he is saving her from Mr Grenfell.

'Miss Darcy, Georgiana, thank you for honouring me with a dance. I always knew you'd turn out incredibly well eventually, your mother was stunningly beautiful, and I suppose even Lady Catherine had her days of being the belle of the ball.'

He is good at flattery, she has to admit, but she's not letting him off the hook so easily.

'So you dared take the chance of eloping with a gangly, skinny girl, expecting her to bloom in a few years?'

He probably did not expect her to be so frank, but Georgiana has learned a lot from Elizabeth, and never before have those pert remarks come to her so easily. She really has grown, but not just in beauty.

Her quick thinking and frank demeanour have surprised him, but only for a few seconds, after which he replies readily, with his usual captivating softness, and even some remorse.

'You must hate me for what I did, but you know I would have been a good husband to you, I did feel a certain love for you. And you certainly loved me.'

Georgiana is surprisingly calm as she formulates her own thoughts, and tells him exactly what months of contemplation have made her realise. For once, she is able to say exactly what she wants to.

'For a few years you would have treated me like a princess, George, until you had spent all my money. Then you would have complained to my brother and asked for more.

And you know as well as I do that I didn't love you like that, but merely as a brother, a love you perverted into something that suited you.

I have never known love like you refer to, I see it before me every day in Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth, and it is a love I hope to feel one day, in all its depth and intensity, but I'm sure I never have, yet. For so far I merely love Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth, as my brother and sister, as I once loved you.'

Such a good feeling, such relief to have given him a piece of her mind! He feels it, too, somehow mentioning love and her brother and Elizabeth in one sentence hurts Wickham. Good, he deserves it.

'So you don't love this Manners character either, that plainly dressed plain man? I bet his motives aren't much nobler than mine were, though his father undoubtedly had an estate to leave him, or he wouldn't receive such a welcome from your brother.

Nobody could ever love a man that plain, he could at least spend some energy on looking as good as he can.'

'You are right, I don't love him, though I don't find his plainness as insulting as you clearly find it. There was a time when I was decidedly homely myself, as you were good enough to not quite point out just now, and I still remember the feeling well. In fact, I still feel like the plain little mouse I used to be, except I never was little but rather tall and gangly, my beauty still surprises me when I look in a mirror.

So I don't feel too good for a plain looking man, especially not a kind and truly gentleman-like character like Mr Manners.'

Now Wickham seems to have a change of heart, and he softly says, 'Let's not quarrel, Georgie, for old time's sake. I have no right to comment on a good man's looks, nor can I claim to be a better man.

But may I give you just one little warning, as one scoundrel recognising another? You know I'm in the army now, and I've gained quite a lot of insight in the baser aspects of humanity there. And elsewhere before that, you may want to ask your brother about it some time, it has to do with your father, who used to be my friend.

This is it, my piece of advice: beware of that Grenfell type. He eyes you like an eagle eyes a mouse hiding in the grass.

Oh, you've noticed already, I can see it all over your face, you have grown indeed. Small wonder you can face me and confront me just like that. Heed your feelings, Georgie, they are not exaggerating, they speak true.

Now go dance with your brother, he's coming to save you from me.

No wait, is he saving you from that Grenfell fellow instead? I'm almost flattered.'

And he bows and moves away elegantly, but not before handing her to Fitzwilliam in person, not a single chance for another man, no matter how determined, to step in.

Darcy has indeed come to save his sister from Grenfell, not from Wickham. From where he was sitting he could see his sister in conversation with Wickham, and to a keen observer like himself it was clear his sister was not in need of rescue, but rather the opposite. This was a good experience for her.

But as the dance draws to a close, Grenfell starts to get alert, he seems to be watching all the couples, but his intentions are clear, and Darcy excuses himself to the Gardiners and marches straight for his sister.

Wickham hands her to him as if to prevent anyone else from stepping in, and Darcy shows his gratitude with a nod to the man he still hates, but will be forced to meet time and time again since they are related by marriage. Still, seeing Georgie handle him has settled his feelings a lot, as well as observing him with Lydia, who is a constant source of irritation to her husband.

Georgie's hand in his, she tells him how her dance with Wickham went about, still amazed at her own ability to tell him exactly what she wanted to, and to retort so sharply whenever he said something that irritated her.

But she is obviously very happy to dance with him, it must have been tiring to be on guard all the time, better see to Grenfell soon, Mr Manners has been invited, there is nothing to gain from pursuing Georgiana any longer.

'Georgie, I've invited Mr Manners over for Christmas, and he was happy to accept.'

Her smile is genuine, but still she needs to know he doesn't expect more from her than just to enjoy their new friend's visit.

'Elizabeth warned me you might feel obliged to consider him as a husband, because he is so suitable a gentleman. But Georgie, please believe me there will be no pressure from me for you to marry him or anyone else until you want to yourself.

No matter how pleasant a man he may be, if you don't love him, don't marry him. I do think I have made the only right choice to ensure lasting happiness, Georgie, marrying someone I can really love and admire. All the worry and heartbreak were worth it, truly, please follow my example and do not marry for expedience.'

His sister is seriously affected by what he says, and she squeezes his hand thankfully.

'That is so sweet, Fitzwilliam, thank you so much for supporting me like that. Any man that wants to win my affection will have to measure up to you, which will be quite an uphill battle I'm afraid.

Don't worry, just relieve me from Mr Grenfell's attentions, and I'll flirt with every single man in the room without caring for a single one.

As Elizabeth said, the penniless girls go first, so Kitty and Maria get to marry before me.'

He cannot help smiling fondly, she has learned so much from Elizabeth, they both have. Thinking of his beloved, his eyes naturally seek her out, she is on the dance-floor with Wickham, and Darcy doesn't like what he sees at all.

Though Elizabeth is keeping an appropriate distance from her brother-in-law, Wickham himself is obviously allowing himself feelings towards her that would be indecent even if they were both free. But they aren't, they're even related by marriage, and still Wickham allows his admiration for Elizabeth to show. Very clearly.

'He looks smitten, Fitzwilliam,' Georgie observes with the frankness of youth.

'Your triumph is complete.'

Your what? What is she talking about, he wants that man's hands off his wife!

His feet automatically follow the moves of the dance, but his mind is somewhere else entirely.

'Brother!'

'I'm sorry, Georgie, I'll concentrate on the dance, I hope I didn't step on your toes.'

'You didn't, Fitzwilliam, I called out because you need to see what is really happening, between Elizabeth and Wickham. He obviously admires her, and she doesn't care three straws about him, she loves you like no woman ever loved her husband. She's yours, brother, she's dancing with Wickham because she feels sorry for him.'

'Actually, she has to convince him not to urge Lydia to take ergot. You're right, I'm just not altogether answerable where Wickham is concerned. I admire you for not feeling vindictive towards him, I cannot seem to control myself where George Wickham is concerned.'

Georgie is trying to catch his attention.

'Fitzwilliam, what is ergot? What is going on? And by the way, I did feel vindictive, and it allowed me to finally be as sharp as I always wanted to be. Miss Bingley beware, from now on.'

Oh, Georgie, how could anyone not love her to bits?

'Ergot is a poison that can grow on wheat, sometimes killing whole villages with poisoned bread. In small, controlled dosages it can cause an unborn child to be driven from the mother. Lydia is with child, Georgie, and Wickham wants her to get rid of it, because she's too young to care for it.'

'That is criminal, Fitzwilliam! How could he? A tiny baby?'

'Imagine a tiny helpless baby in Lydia's hands, Georgie. I imagine he means well, but it is a great sin to take any life, and endanger his wife's into the bargain. Don't worry, Elizabeth will talk him out of it, he can hire a nurse to help his wife care for the child. And don't tell anyone, it would devastate her sisters if they heard it, and bring shame on the family if anyone else did.'

'Of course I won't, but I'll be nice to Lydia, even if she says insulting things. I'll not try my newly found pertness on her.'

After that, they dance one more dance together in silence, and when that is through, and Mr Grenfell comes forward to claim Georgiana, Darcy intercepts him, putting a hand on the other man's shoulder, leading him to the side of the dance-floor for a man-to-man talk.

Georgiana looks for Kitty, and they fetch drinks giggling and joking, then go back to the dance-floor, where they dance with Mr Gardiner, Mr Bennet, and several of Bingley's friends in turns.

As she is dancing with Wickham, Elizabeth is not unaware of his admiration, which in fact doesn't make her feel flattered at all, but rather put out. He never had serious intentions towards her, so why pretend to regret her now? It almost reeks of manipulation, some scheme to sow dissent between Fitzwilliam and herself. Better put an end to it and talk of things that matter.

'I talked to Lydia just now, brother, and she told me she was expecting.'

Resignation, rather than startlement or displeasure. At least the look of adulation is wiped off his face instantly.

'I wondered whom I'd have to face about this. I'm glad it's you. I was afraid it would be Mrs Bingley, she'd look at me with such deep disappointment, I'd rather it's you, I suppose I can't sink any deeper in your esteem, anyway.

Don't you think it shows a vestige of intelligence, to choose you as a confidante? Maybe my beloved wife isn't doomed to perpetual ignorance after all.'

'If you give her the time to gain information, Mr Wickham, instead of trying to kill her together with your son or daughter.'

'Ouch, Mrs Darcy, that does hurt after all. My God you know how to bring a man down even lower! Can't you see I'm already grovelling at your feet?

I have nothing to say in my defence, Elizabeth, I panicked and hoped to be able to make my problem go away. So strike me down now, you look like a Greek goddess anyway in that amazing dress, lift your divine arm and blast me to your heathen Hell, to be devoured by your two-headed hound Cerberus.'

Elizabeth is sure she does look at him as if he is mad, but admittedly with a little admiration for his eloquence. He is indeed wasted on Lydia, but that is one of many bad choices in life he has made himself.

'Frankly, I hoped I had managed to talk some sense in you yesterday, without even knowing the relevance of what I said.

Dear brother, I know this must seem like the end of the world to you, but you are right, there does seem to be a little spark of hope for my sister, she does seem to think more than she ever did. Apparently her friends at the camp try to inform her, and sometimes, she even listens.

Did she tell you she's deadly afraid of losing you to a French bullet, or some Hessian bayonet? That she desperately wants this baby to remind her of you in case the love of her life is killed abroad?'

That sure makes an impression, though Wickham tries to hide his feelings by being a little too clever.

'If Lydia knows what a Hessian is, I'll eat one of their fancy hats. Though it's hard to take heart from your wife finally understanding the risk of wearing one of those smart red coats, you are right. You have talked some sense and some hope for the future in me, and there will be no mention of certain substances in our household again.

Let her have her little George, or her little Lizzy, for you have truly given me hope I may find a glimmer of understanding in my daughters and sons, by reminding me you have the same mother as my wife. I'll see how far the influence of her friends goes, and if necessary I'll hire a superior servant to save the child.

Will you promise me one thing, my dear sister?'

Elizabeth must have shown her distrust clearly, for he smiles regretfully.

'I hope with all my heart your help will not be needed, Elizabeth, and I know it is a lot to ask. But should I fall on some foreign field, or even succumb to a mere fever, will you keep an eye on my children? With myself removed, Fitzwilliam will not mind looking after his nieces or nephews, I guess, he has ever been magnanimous like his beloved father.

Will you save my children, there will doubtlessly be several for I suppose our union will be as fruitful as your parents', from deprivations, especially those of the mental kind? Will you see to it that they are educated to their potential, and taught morals?'

As they follow the other couples through the merry dance, Elizabeth has to swallow firmly to lose the emotion blocking her throat. No matter what Wickham did, he may very well face a painful death on the battlefield one day, and his children cannot help their father's behaviour.

Besides, Fitzwilliam suggested as much after their visit to Longbourn yesterday, imagining a little Elizabeth or a little Jane among Lydia's children. There is no reason not to promise Wickham to look out for his future offspring, it is something they would do anyway.

'You may rest assured we will, Wickham, in fact Fitzwilliam already suggested as much when we rode back to Netherfield yesterday afternoon. Congratulations, my dear brother, you're going to be a father!'

Somehow, Elizabeth is not surprised that Wickham shows little enthusiasm at the prospect, but that is just too bad: babies are a logical consequence of what happens in the bedroom, and they don't wait for their parents' approval any more than their aunt's.

They finish that dance in reasonable spirits, Elizabeth planning to sit a few out with her father and the Gardiners, but she does not get the opportunity, for Mr Hurst applies for her hand next, and she stands up with him immediately.

Still a bit out of sorts at the idea of Lydia being with child, she is uncharacteristically silent, but Mr Hurst never even notices, for he is uncharacteristically talkative.

'Thank you for dancing with me, Mrs Darcy, I was a bit shy to ask since you look like a goddess today.

I mean, your dress and everything, I've never seen anything like it, it's so beautiful and regal. Mrs Hurst can say all she likes, about your certainly embracing London fashion, and a person taking it too far for a country-wedding, trying to outshine the bride, but I say, when you know the bride is Mrs Jane Bingley, you may shine as much as you like, for she will certainly draw most of the attention anyway.

But Mrs Darcy, I'll admit I'm quite an admirer of yours, I always understood Darcy perfectly, going after you until he finally got you, such spunk, such fire, and look how happy you both are. Well done, I say, a smart chap Darcy is, always was, ignoring Caroline and going for true excellence as soon as he met with it.'

So many words from this man, Elizabeth has never heard him speak over one sentence at a time, except for a few days ago, when he asked her to dance.

'Thank you Mr Hurst. How long have you been married yourself?'

'I think it's been five years, but it seems forever! I'm glad Bingley has finally married, and has such entertaining friends, it'll bring some life back into our boring existence.

Between us, Mrs Darcy, what do you think of Grenfell, do you think he's such a catch as would make Caroline happy?'

Trying to be diplomatic, for Elizabeth doesn't believe in 'between us' until proven beyond a doubt, she thinks of what to say, then observes, 'Well, he's certainly a very handsome man, and his prospects are just what they ought to be.'

'Very good, Mrs Darcy, excellent! You'll survive among Darcy's stuck-up relatives no problem!

Now tell me you don't find Grenfell a self-congratulating, acquisitive pig. And mind you, I know you quite well by now, I hear a lot more than people give me credit for, and anytime I seem asleep, I may actually be thinking deeply on some subject or other.'

He is being funny! But how to answer him with enough candour to satisfy him, and still not give him any food for gossip?

At that very moment, Elizabeth starts to realise the position poor Fanny is in, she knows things that will make an impact on her peers, but has to be silent to please people who consider themselves way above her. Elizabeth does believe she herself gives her maid enough support and respect to keep her loyal, but frankly that is not enough.

But now, Mr Hurst needs an answer, and a subtle one.

'All right Mr Hurst, you win. I cannot deny the exact thought having crossed my mind.'

'I suppose you are protecting Miss Darcy from his eager grasp, I saw Darcy talking to the fellow just now and when they had parted with the usual politeness, Mr Grenfell scowled dark enough to guess what he'd heard from your husband.

And I guess Manners will do his part for your sister-in-law, don't mistake him by the way, I know of him, he's not as soft and obliging as he seems, there is a core of iron in that fellow. I wish Caroline could look beyond the outer layer, for I'd much prefer to have Manners in our circle.

But since she doesn't, and she won't meet the real Grenfell until the day after the wedding, I wish I could speak as frankly to her as I dare to you. The guy is bad news, and I have no clue how to protect my sister.'

That is almost endearing, Mr Hurt worrying about his sister-in-law.

'Maybe she'll come to her senses, Mr Hurst, they're not married, yet.'

'That is all we can hope for, or maybe he will show his true colours before she's too stuck on him.'

With that, they part, Elizabeth almost stunned to have the indolent Mr Hurst talk so freely to her.


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 46

Before she can locate Fitzwilliam, she finds herself addressed by the infamous Mr Grenfell himself, and since she cannot refuse him, and is rather curious about him as well, she moves back to the floor to dance with him.

He is as tall as Fitzwilliam, and as handsome, maybe even more so, though not as carefully dressed. Simon will certainly score points tonight with his master's apparel. Especially the hairdo and the slight enhancement of his eyes will make an impact, and Mr Grenfell's valet needs a another few years experience tying and pleating cravats.

Mr Grenfell's voice gives her the shivers, and she isn't even certain what kind.

'You're the queen of the ball, Mrs Darcy. The bride is your sister, isn't she? She's absolutely stunning, but personally I prefer a little fire to a woman. Too bad you're already married, I've heard you always give as good as you get.'

From Miss Bingley no doubt, and not a good way to enter a conversation with the sister-in-law of your intended.

But that soon becomes clear.

'I've had a nice, friendly chat with your husband just now, and he very politely, amicably even, warned me off his sister. I like her, I'm sure she liked me, I cannot understand why I am not good enough for your husband, my reputation is flawless, my estate and fortune without equal in this little group of friends, and you checked out my looks rather carefully just now. Tell me, do you find me lacking in personal beauty?'

Well, she needn't rile him up, and she cannot imagine Fitzwilliam let him down hard, he must be very sensitive, so she replies, 'I most certainly do not, Mr Grenfell, I see few men here who can compete with you in good looks.'

'Thank you, Mrs Darcy, and let me return the compliment. Your dress is as magnificent as yourself, and the accessories were chosen by a master. Once I do find my Mrs Grenfell, I will advise her to use your tailor.

I have heard you are an excellent horse-woman and an even more active walker?'

Miss Bingley again, undoubtedly relating how Mr Darcy accepts his wife rambling for hours all by herself.

'I certainly like to walk, but in fact I haven't had the pleasure of really being able to ride well for more than four months. But I find great pleasure in it, mostly because my husband happened to have the most adorable little mare in his stables that I took to immediately, and who takes great care of me in return. She's an absolute treasure.'

Talking about riding positively softens him, and Elizabeth trusts that by the time the dance ends, he will feel much less ruffled by Fitzwilliam's refusal to have him over this summer.

'Too bad there is so much snow at the moment, or we could all ride out. I've heard so much about the beauty of the country around here, I had hoped to explore.'

'Do you have a riding-horse with you then, Mr Grenfell, I gathered you had all arrived by carriage?'

'We're not even a day's ride from town, had the weather been clement, I would have had my hunter brought here. But as it is, we'll have to amuse ourselves with indoor sports. I may even catch me something tonight, figuratively speaking of course.'

Whatever can he mean? Elizabeth gathers she'd rather not know, and since by now the dance is almost over, and she is getting rather tired with all the talk and all the dancing, she takes leave very politely, and joins Jane and Bingley at a table to take a little rest.

Between lively talks with both of them, her father and the Gardiners, and of course Fitzwilliam who joins her pretty soon after, she can see Kitty dancing with Mr Lascelles, the handsome and very smart guy she likes a lot, and they seem to have a really good time.

Elizabeth dare not even consider Kitty attaching a man of that class, she is pretty, but Elizabeth has never taken her seriously, with her whining spells and her thoughtless imitation of Lydia's manners. But she has improved a lot, and at least she has had a very nice evening with plenty of partners.

The Gardiners are planning to return to their children as soon as the weather allows it, and though that is a bit disappointing, they will all meet at Christmas, which is less than two weeks away.

From where she is sitting, Elizabeth can see Mr Grenfell spending all his time and charms on Miss Bingley, who receives them with pleasure and encouragement. It is a little worrying to be sure, for if they marry, Mr Grenfell will also have to be included in their intimate circle, but most of all, Elizabeth fears Miss Bingley would greatly rue that marriage, and not just because Grenfell is sure to smell of horse again once the weather turns.

'Did you know Mr Hurst can actually talk, Fitzwilliam?'

'You mean in sentences? And about other things than food and cards?'

'Yes, I had the most surprising conversation with him just now. He asked me to dance, again, and after he had flattered me outrageously he told me he worried about his sister-in-law marrying unwisely.

Actually, he challenged me to deny Mr Grenfell being a self-congratulatory, acquisitive pig. His actual words, not mine. I couldn't, of course.'

'You couldn't say that of someone?'

'No, I couldn't deny his words. Do you worry for her?'

Fitzwilliam looks grave, and admits in a serious voice, 'I do. Grenfell asked me outright to be invited to Pemberley and to be allowed to court my sister, and I told him we'd already asked Mr Manners over this summer, and that Georgie was still too young to consider a marriage. He did not take it well, and made it very clear that by this time next year he would have made an advantageous match and our chance would have passed. He is serious all right.'

'But do you think she'll regret it?'

'I don't know, Elizabeth, I always thought her rather petty and shallow, so maybe she doesn't care. But I suppose Hurst knows them better.

Do you want to dance with me again?'

'Always, my love.'

After another hour of merriment, the orchestra falls silent, and Bingley addresses his guests.

'Ladies and gentlemen, we've had every opportunity to dance, and we will again. For now, it has come to the orchestra's attention that we have a truly superior pianist in our midst, and they have requested to be allowed to accompany her in several classical pieces.

So I beg you to please sit down and enjoy the superior music of Miss Georgiana Darcy on the piano, accompanied by the Meryton Merry Ten!'

All the guests applaud, and gather around the musicians on whatever seats they can find.

Before Elizabeth and Darcy can feel apprehension over Georgiana's willingness to perform for so many people and without practising, she has already started a virtuous piece, and one by one the other musicians join in.

The effect is amazing, Georgie looks like a picture of a concert pianist, beautiful and elegant, and superbly concentrated. The entire room is hushed instantly, no-one even moves on their chair, for the sound would disturb the entertainment.

If Darcy hadn't heard Mr Fielding play, he'd think his sister was ready for the stage, and he just knows most people will think exactly that. The violins, the flutes, the trumpets, they all match her perfectly, and everyone sits in trance for as long as the show lasts.

Everyone except Grenfell, for Darcy checks the crowd to see how he reacts to Georgie's skill, and he isn't there.

Mr Manners has been listening with great enjoyment, and when Georgiana is finished and the crowd has applauded and is back to the dance-floor, he looks her up and talks to her for a few moments. Then he takes his leave, is he going to bed this early? Well, actually, it's rather late already, and Darcy starts to feel some excitement, another half hour and he will be on his way to their own room with his beloved. A little undressing and taking off the gilding to be done, and then they will be all by themselves.

Bingley and Jane look ready for their first night together as well, they have waited so long, and now they want to be alone. Well, Darcy's not going to fault them for it.

But for now, everyone is still dancing, and having a lot of fun, and he decides to enjoy the rest of the evening.

Georgie says good night and leaves with Kitty and Maria, they've offered to share a room to enable all the guests rooms. Netherfield is very large, but with so many guests staying in the heart of winter, there was a little shuffling to find all the guests a suitable chamber that can be heated properly and has a usable bed.

He actually wonders how many guests he would be able to put up himself in any comfort at Pemberley, so many rooms have not really been used for years, they cannot be made habitable on such short notice.

Elizabeth is now catching his eye to suggest the two of them turning in, and he relishes the very thought. Georgie is safe with her friends, nothing to keep them here any longer, hopefully the snow will let up a little the next day so they can ride out to explore the neighbourhood. And if not, they can always ramble, in the garden if the rest of the park is covered in snow too deeply.

Wishing Bingley and Jane the best night of their lives so far, they retreat, up the stairs, where Simon is usually waiting for them to inquire whether they want help to undress. Of course today they need it, at least Elizabeth does, for her hair is done so intricately and braided and pinned so firmly, he wouldn't trust himself to get it down without hurting her.

But of course Simon knows that, so they are probably already waiting in the bedroom, fire poked up, washing basins ready. Having his valet back does have its advantages.

But when they enter their room, it is dark, and cold, and abandoned.

'That is not right, Fitzwilliam,' Elizabeth says, worried, 'Simon is always ready for us. Something must have happened.'

'You are right, and I mean to find out immediately. Do you know how to light a lamp and poke up a fire?'

'I sure do, I even know how to cook, did you know that? I've never had an independent income, you know, it seemed sensible to be able to take care of myself. You go look for Simon and Fanny, I'll make things cosy up here.'

As soon as he is gone, Elizabeth opens the hearth and pokes up the fire, feeding it a little until it comes back to life. Then with the ember tongs she picks up a little coal to light the lamps, after which she closes the drapes to keep the light and the heat in.

Then she waits.

It doesn't take long for footsteps to come towards the chamber, and to her surprise someone knocks. So it's not Fitzwilliam.

'Enter!' she calls out, and Mr Manners of all people comes in.

'Excuse me, Mrs Darcy, something happened to your maid, she is not hurt but very upset. Mr Wickham took her to your valet's room, and Simon wants you to know she'll be right over to help you undress, but to please keep in mind that she is very upset and it may influence her work.'

'That is very disturbing news, Mr Manners, did you see Fitzwilliam? He went out to look for them, we knew something had happened. Poor Fanny! How did you find out, Mr Manners?'

'I happened to pass by, Mrs Darcy, and offered to assist by acting as messenger. I suppose Mr Darcy is already there, I'll be in my own room when he wants to see me.'

And he is off.

Something bad happened to Fanny, and she is not hurt but upset? Did she fall? But that would hurt. And if someone was mean to her, Simon would have sent for them immediately, he knows they will not accept bullying among any servants.

Elizabeth does not have to wonder for long, within five minutes Fitzwilliam arrives, livid, followed by Simon supporting Fanny, who is indeed so very upset she will not be able to do any work.

After pointing out a comfortable chair to Simon to help Fanny into, Elizabeth automatically lays a hand on her husband's shoulder to calm him down. It works, but now he is cold as ice, exactly as Wickham described him at his most fearsome.

Fanny is such a sad sight, Simon looks positively anxious, and Fitzwilliam is not much help trying to control a murderous rage. So it's up to Elizabeth, and rightly so since she is the lady of the household.

Kneeling before Fanny, she takes the girl's hands, and asks gently, 'Do you want me to fetch Bob, Fanny? I don't know what happened, but he may be able to calm you down a little.'

That doesn't help, for it truly upsets the poor girl, and she starts to cry.

'No ma'am, please don't. He'll get even angrier than the master, and he will not be able to control himself, and lose everything he has worked for. I will feel better soon, I hope.

Everyone is so nice, Mr Wickham, Mr Manners, Simon, the master and now you.'

'Will you tell Mrs Darcy what happened, Fanny? She needs to know, and the master has only heard what Mr Wickham told me, not everything.'

Simon's voice sounds very soft and pleading, and Fanny accedes.

'I will, though it will make me upset all over again. But I guess talking about it helps, and I need to be calm before I see Bob again, I'm so afraid for him. Better sit down ma'am, and take the master's hand. I suppose he will be angry all over again when he hears this. Will you hold my hand Simon? I feel very safe with you, and the master and mistress are here to witness you're just supporting me.'

Asking her to tell what happened was a good move on Simon's part, it has pulled Fanny out of some spiral of shock and grief, and now her voice sounds clear as she starts her tale.

'I was on my way here to light the lamps and poke up the fire, I knew you'd need me to take down your hair, and I didn't mind waiting for an hour or more, I had a book with me to pass the time.

When I entered the main house, you know, coming from the servants' part, the halls were dark, but I know the way and I wasn't scared.

I hadn't come far, when strong hands gripped me and pushed me against the wall, keeping me from crying out by covering my mouth and nose.

By now my eyes were used to the dark, and I saw a tall shape looming over me, and I felt it, too, pushing me against the wall with his, you know, his...lower body. It was horrible. I've heard of things like that happening in big houses, but I always felt safe working for you, Mr Darcy.'

That is why Fitzwilliam is livid, he promised his servants they would be safe from others, and now something happened after all.

'I'm so sorry, Fanny, I failed you. But he will not escape punishment, I will call him out and he will pay for what he did.'

Call him out? One doesn't call out a servant, this must have been a gentleman then! No wonder Fanny fears for Bob!

'No, sir, you cannot, begging your pardon sir, but please hear me out?'

Fitzwilliam nods, his hand squeezing Elizabeth's rather tightly.

'He tried to fondle my breasts, and get under my skirts, but I resisted as much as I could, and while I couldn't escape, he couldn't have his way with me either, not without releasing my mouth. So he threatened me.

'You're a feisty little thing, good, I like that. I'd rather have your little mistress, or your missus for that matter, but you'll do for now. I'll have all the time in the world to sample your wares, we'll meet often, my little girl, once I marry into the family.

Now be a good girl and come to my room, and I'll not have to harm you or have you dismissed. It'll be just a few minutes each day, nothing to worry about.'

I protested I was engaged, but he merely laughed and said, 'Good, then no-one will wonder if you get with child. Just give him some of that, too, if you haven't already.'

That made me angry, and I fought, but he was so strong, and he hit me. Not hard, but it hurt and made me afraid, he clearly didn't stop at anything. I knew you'd protect me once I told you, Mr Darcy, but not that time, and Bob would certainly go for him and get fired or worse.

Then, someone came, whistling, but somehow I knew he knew, for the whistle was meant for me, to hearten me.

He stopped right beside us, and my attacker released me just a little, he was going to try to bluff his way out.

'Mr Grenfell!' a friendly voice hailed him, 'fancy seeing you so far from Miss Darcy and Miss Bingley, and all the fun. Couldn't wait any longer?'

And he asked me, 'Are you in need of assistance, young lady?'

He didn't seem at all above me, and he knew something was up, for he had a certain stance that showed he was ready for violence, though I guess Mr Grenfell didn't realise that. My cousin is a soldier, and he sometimes looks like my rescuer did.

'Mr Wickham,' my attacker now greeted him, trying to be friendly, but not succeeding. 'This girl and I are having a bit of fun, and I would advise you to keep out of it or I may make things very difficult for you.

My great-uncle is in the army, and he has little patience with petty officers taking the fun out of their betters' lives.'

But my rescuer didn't heed him at all, he waited until I managed to say, 'Please help me sir, I'm very much afraid and my face hurts.'

'In that case, Mr Grenfell, you'd better release the girl and promise her to respect her dignity from now on, or I will make you suffer the consequences.'

Now he was a lot bigger than Mr Wickham, and he laughed like the bully he is.

'You and who else, lieutenant? There is no sergeant here to help you, soft boy, I'm half again your size and an experienced boxer.'

As I said, my cousin is in the army, and he says they learn to fight dirty there, a matter of life or death as he calls it. Mr Wickham didn't speak, he merely hit my attacker in the face squarely, then kicked him in the nuts, excuse me my language, and finished him off with a blow to the stomach. It felt great to see him go down, I may have cheered.

Then I realised he had meant to ravage me, not just once, but every night, every time he was in the same house, on family meetings, hunting parties, courting either Miss Darcy or Miss Bingley at the same time, whispering sweet words in her ears.

That broke me, and I started crying.

Mr Wickham took me in his arms, and he said, 'Whose maid are you, young lady?'

I said, 'Mrs Darcy's, sir.'

'Good,' he said, 'Darcy has contacts everywhere, he'll save my skin from that big brute's connections.

Who is your superior among the servants?'

'That would be Simon, sir, Mr Darcy's valet.'

'Take me to him, girl, and we'll tell him. He can tell Mr Darcy later, he'll take care you will not be bothered again. First you need someone to comfort you, and it needs to be a little secretive. You cannot call out a gentleman over the chastity of a maid, sadly enough, it's mostly a matter of standing and connections, which is why I'm glad you belong to the highest ranked gentleman in this house. Let's go.'

And he took me back to the servant's quarters, where we met another gentleman, that Mr Wickham clearly didn't like. He asked Mr Manners to see to Mr Grenfell, and to warn you, Mr Darcy, which he promised to do. Then my rescuer knocked on Simon's door, told him what happened, and left me with him.

When Simon held me I let my fear and shock take over, and when Mr Darcy knocked and came in he found me like that.

Please Mr Darcy, don't let Mr Grenfell get Mr Wickham in trouble, and please tell Bob to leave him alone, he'll be killed or thrown into prison!'

This is a right mess and no mistake. Fitzwilliam in a rage, Fanny upset, Wickham's career in danger, Elizabeth has no idea how serious those threats are.

Fortunately, Fitzwilliam has calmed down by now.

'Fanny, I'm very glad you were saved just in time, and I promise you, I will do whatever I can to help Wickham. Personally, I think Grenfell is bluffing, but I'm still considering calling him out. You're part of my household. And I will talk to Bob as well, he will listen to reason and keep his cool and let me handle things. But that can wait until morning.

First, I will look for Mr Manners and see how Grenfell is doing, I hope Wickham didn't damage him too badly. I am loath to disturb Bingley on his wedding-night, but I may have to. You stay here, maybe take apart Mrs Darcy's coiffure for I cannot handle that, then let yourself be attended to by the mistress for a change.'

As he kisses Elizabeth goodbye, she admonishes him, 'Fitzwilliam, you take Mr Manners with you if you go to see Mr Grenfell. I don't trust you to keep your cool, I want someone stable along. Will you promise me to do that?'

'I will, my love. No-one shall be hurt worse than he is already.'

When he has left, Simon asks Fanny whether she can stay by herself for a moment, and he starts to take out the flowers and the pins from Elizabeth's hair. Fanny gets up and joins him, the quiet job calming both of them down quite a lot.

Soon, her hair hangs loose, and Fanny wants to brush it smooth, apparently that is as calming to the person brushing as it is to the one being brushed.

'I'm so sorry you were assaulted under our protection, Fanny, we knew that man was not suitable to marry Miss Darcy, but we didn't know he'd stoop to this.'

'Neither of you can help it, ma'am, I'm just glad Mr Wickham happened by to save me. It's mostly the shock of it all, nothing really happened. I would not like to meet him again, ma'am, and I still fear for Bob. But I cannot lie to him, I cannot pretend nothing happened, he'd know and suspect worse things of me.'

They talk for another hour, by which time Fanny is very tired and ready to go to bed.

'I will take her to her room and guard her door until she has locked it, Mrs Darcy, don't worry. And should you waken in the night, Fanny, you can knock on my door and we can talk. Don't lie awake in fear.'

Simon is so sweet, and Fanny is stronger than she looks, so Elizabeth has good hopes the girl will be all right.

'You can wake us as early as is needed, I suppose the master will be up early anyway to talk to Bob. Don't hesitate, you always help us, now it's our turn to make ourselves useful. Thank you very much, Simon, and please knock if you need us, even in the night. We're not at home, there is no housekeeper or cook to support you in this, so it will have to be us.'


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 47

Meanwhile, Darcy makes his way to Mr Manners' bedroom, and knocks quietly.

'Come in, Mr Darcy,' is the answer.

'You guessed it was me?'

Mr Manners is sitting in a comfortable chair in front of a cheery fire.

'You'd want to know what I saw, and how Grenfell is doing. I would, though I'd want to kill him, too. Will you sit down for a moment?'

Darcy sits down in a second comfortable chair, and Mr Manners pours and hands him a glass of brandy.

'A naughty habit of mine, drinking brandy just before turning in. I couldn't sleep. He is my friend, you know, I knew he had a hard time handling adversity, but I never thought he'd stoop so low.'

'According to the maid he planned to abuse her every time he saw her. It sounded as if this was not the first time, Mr Manners.

But first of all, how is he?'

'Perfectly well, Mr Darcy, your brother-in-law must be an expert in the application of violence, for Grenfell was out when I found him, but he got up and walked to his room within fifteen minutes, and without a mark on him.'

'I cannot imagine him making life hard on my brother-in-law in the army, was that bluff or does he truly have influence?'

'I suppose he may have a family-member there, but I guess they know him as well as we do. Besides, I've heard you're very well-connected?'

'I am, I am, I guess I can pull some strings if needed. Frankly, I'm tempted to call him out, he assaulted one of my staff, a young girl who trusts me to protect her from harm. I'm going to have to convince her fiancée tomorrow not to act in revenge, I feel obliged to get satisfaction for her myself.'

Now Mr Manners looks decidedly uncomfortable.

'Would you mind very much if we handle this among ourselves, Mr Darcy? We're a close-knit group, and we know how to deal with one of us crossing the line. We've calmed down a lot, you see, but we used to be quite a rowdy lot. Yes, even Bingley, I can see you don't believe me, but he was as bad as the rest of us.

I thought I'd talk to the rest, starting with Bingley of course, then call Grenfell to order and have him keep his peace towards the girl, any other dependants, and your brother-in-law.

If we make a big deal out of it, chances are Mr Wickham will be the greatest loser in this, and he seems quite capable and ambitious, and quite the hero. He deserves his future in the rifles, I spent some time on him tonight, and he told me about his ambitions.

You know how the world works, Mr Darcy, and as yet Grenfell's friends have the biggest influence on him.

Can you live with that?'

'Frankly, I have a huge problem letting him get away with trying to abuse a helpless girl.'

'Who said he was getting away with it? I said we'd handle this, he will not escape his punishment, we have our ways of enforcing boundaries, Mr Darcy. Can we do away with the honorific, by the way? I like you, and I feel as if we have known each other for some time already.'

Darcy nods, it is fitting they should do that, but he still doesn't understand what Manners is saying. Is he suggesting they will punish Grenfell among themselves? What will keep him from just leaving?

'I can see you have a hard time believing he'd actually feel punished by our measures, Darcy. Let me assure you it will hit him harder than the law, it doesn't really care about a female being bothered, certainly not a lowly servant. But we care, and we are Grenfell's friends, we're closer than family, we are everything he has.

If we shun him for a few months, he'll be all by himself, he'll hate that. Since this is not his first offence, though it is his first against a woman I may add, that we know of, of course, we will be quite hard on him. And believe me, he will feel it.'

Comprehension dawns on Darcy, this is one of those groups from college, much more intimate than the friendships Darcy had, and Bingley is part of that? Quiet, gentle Bingley?'

'Ah, I see you're starting to understand, but still you cannot believe it. Of course you cannot, Bingley is so easy-going, I'm an epitome of virtue, how can we be part of some close-knit group of college pals with its own laws and customs? It just happened, Darcy, and I suppose some day we'll all be busy running estates and raising children, and our ties will weaken, but for now we're still bound to one another. Bingley less so since he met you, but this is his house and he has always kept our customs, so he has a big say in this.

So, what is your verdict?'

Tired, Darcy realises Manners is right, there is every chance Wickham will be the sufferer for Grenfell's crime, so he reluctantly gives in.

'You win, Manners, we'll do it your way. You handle Grenfell, keep his hands off my sister and off the staff, and I'll try to explain to Bob he need not act for himself.'

Manners is pleased, and soothingly says, 'You will not regret it. Let's go see Bingley then, poor chap, on his wedding-night.'

Darcy still cannot believe it, Bingley part of some clique of college friends, controlling each other's lives with rules made by common consent? He feels awful to knock on his friend's door at midnight, his wedding night, but when the door opens, Bingley is still dressed and apparently waiting for them. He looks exactly the same as usual, same friendly face, same gentle manners.

'Wickham told me what happened, and your being involved, Manners, so I suspected I'd see you here. Come in, Jane's here, I'm not sending her away, she's the mistress of this house now, she has a right to know what is going on under her roof and in my life.

You look a little dazed, Darcy, I'm sorry I never told you about my college friends, how intimate we were. I thought it'd never come up.'

His voice is the same, he even sounds a bit contrite.

'Never mind, Bingley, I'm just tired and incredibly angry. I want to call him out, but Manners here has convinced me I'd better leave him to you, save our brother-in-law a whole load of trouble.'

Only now does Bingley show some assurance Darcy isn't used to seeing in him, but still he sounds soft and affectionate as he replies, 'And you, my dear brother, I'm so glad to be related to you, even if it took two marriages instead of just the one.

Letting us handle this will save hours of your time, and a lot of worries, for I am very certain you would move heaven and earth to get justice done for Lizzy's maid and our brother-in-law.

Even after what Mr Wickham has done to you, Darcy, I'm glad I know now, though I don't fault you at all for keeping it a secret from your best friend. But I digress, and Manners wants to come to a decision so he can find his lonely bed.

But hopefully not for long, my friend, we may soon see you married as happily as we are.'

That is more than a bit embarrassing to Manners, who almost seems to know what secret Bingley was talking about. Maybe Georgie told him, though that would be surprising.

'Bingley, you're way ahead of things, I told you the young lady made it clear she is not looking for a husband yet. And besides, her brother may be reconsidering his invitation to me now he knows I'm part of one of those college circles.'

Darcy must admit he is surprised by Manners' delicacy, for in fact he is indeed in doubt whether he'd want his sister to become involved with such a clique. But since Bingley is, and Darcy would never voluntarily give up his friendship with Bingley, and they are now related by marriage, he obviously already is himself.

And Georgiana is perfectly capable of deciding for herself. Besides, Manners is still a true gentleman, and excepting Grenfell, he really likes the rest of the group, too.

Jane is sitting in a lazy chair, covered with a thick blanket, and she seems worried rather than put out at having been disturbed on her wedding-night.

With her gentle voice, she addresses them affectionately.

'I'm sorry this happened to poor Fanny under our roof, Darcy, I'm sure Bingley will settle it to her and your satisfaction and make sure it doesn't happen again. And Manners, I'm glad you were there to help out, poor Wickham sounded rather upset, he was surprised to find you in the servant's quarters, but nonetheless relieved to run into someone he hoped would be an ally.'

She is right, what was Manners doing in the servant's quarters at such a late hour?

'I'll be glad to be of some use, Jane, and I'm very sorry to disturb your wedding-night.

I must admit I was very curious how the staff celebrated your wedding, and since I had another letter to put in the mail as soon as the snow clears, I decided to bring it to Mr Darcy's valet in person, he had helped me before, using that visit as an excuse to take a peek at the merriment. And a joyous occasion it was!'

That is a reasonable explanation of his presence, but Darcy intends to validate it with Simon, for if Manners was seeing some servant girl to relieve his loneliness, the most likely reason for him to be in that part of the house, Georgiana may want to revise her opinion of him.

But for now, Bingley and Manners decide they will call a meeting of their peers tomorrow, and decide on a fitting penance for Grenfell. They will inform Wickham of their actions tonight, so he can sleep peacefully without Darcy having to talk to him, and Darcy will inform Fanny and Bob.

'If they want to know exactly what Grenfell will suffer for his misstep, they can ask me in person. I'm not too important to talk to servants once in a while.

Will you let Grenfell continue to court your sister, Bingley?

And I suppose Darcy here would prefer to see him out of the house by tomorrow.'

'My sister is a grown-up woman of independent means, dear Manners. I'm not going to tell her what to do. Besides, if he is punished, doesn't that absolve him of further guilt?

Are you satisfied, Darcy?'

'It still doesn't feel right, but I suppose it will have to do.'

'Good, ten o'clock in my study, Manners? I take it you will keep an eye on our friend Grenfell until we get to talk to him? It is my wedding-night after all.'

Manners agrees, and they leave the happy couple to their first night together.

On their way back, Manners assures Darcy, 'If you'd rather not have me over at Christmas now you know what I'm involved with, I understand. And feel free to discuss this with your sister, she needs to know, too.'

His honesty is disarming, and Darcy hears himself say, 'Never mind, Manners, I've been friends with Bingley for years, and I never noticed. Though I draw the line at having Mr Grenfell near my sister or my staff. I will tell Georgiana, and she can decide whether she wants you around for Christmas or not.

Good night, Manners!'

'Good night, my friend!'

When Fitzwilliam returns from his grim excursion, Elizabeth is as stunned as he is to find out about Bingley being involved in some college clique. She is in fact even more surprised, for she never realised such groups existed.

'And Mr Manners, too, how strange and disturbing. But beloved, I'm glad you're not going to call Mr Grenfell out, I seriously think is it not worth the risk, with a bit of luck we need never see him again. I suppose Bingley will tell his sister, and she'll steer clear of him as well.

He hadn't been in contact with this group for years, had he? So Jane will probably be fine.

But we may have to reconsider Mr Manners, he seems pretty nice, but for how long have we actually known him? Less than a week!'

She's not actually expecting an answer, but merely arranging the facts for herself, and Fitzwilliam seems to understand, for he merely nods, and takes her in his arms.

'If Mr Grenfell is still here tomorrow, we can always explain to Jane and Bingley, and move back to London, taking Kitty. We'll meet next week anyway.'

'My love, that is an excellent idea,' Fitzwilliam observes, 'and so simple. Bingley and Jane will forgive us, and we'll avoid any risk of further incidents. Thank you for solving the last problem I had.

Tomorrow, we'll ask Georgie for her opinion on Mr Manners, and we decide to stay or go. Let's stop talking, and spend some time on each other. Imagine Bingley staying dressed on his wedding night because of a worthless old friend. I hope they're making up for it right now.'

The next morning, Darcy decides to find Bob in the stables instead of having him called to the house, that would only make him feel very uncomfortable.

He's busy cleaning the stalls, Daisy and the black already have a clean stall and are waiting eagerly for their morning feed, the team horses are tied up a bit further down the row of stables, as Bob stabs with a pitchfork, removing dirty straw into a wheelbarrow. He looks up at the sound of footsteps, it's very early yet.

'Mr Darcy, sir! You're up mighty early, most of the house staff are still sleeping off last night's party! Do you want your horse saddled?'

Good, he hasn't seen Fanny yet.

'No Bob, I came to see you. Can we leave the horses like this for a few moments? Something has come up, and we need to talk.'

That gives Bob a shock, he can hear it is something bad, and he stammers, 'Sure, master, we can talk right here, as I said, there's no-one else up yet.'

'I'd rather we sit down for a while, Bob.'

That'll make it even worse, but this is bad, and Bob needs to know how seriously Darcy takes what has happened.

'Let me put the team back in their stables, sir, we'll sit on the box of Mrs Darcy's carriage again.'

Minutes later, they have decided it's warmer inside, and they sit on the leather seats of the beautiful little carriage. Bob is very uncomfortable, inside the beautiful carriage with the master, in his working clothes, but Darcy wants him to feel the full power a noble has, so that the young man realises anything he does will only get him in trouble.

'Bob, last night, one of the gentlemen in the house tried to take advantage of Fanny.'

Quickly, he adds, 'He failed, thanks to Mr Wickham's alertness and fearlessness. But Wickham took a big risk, he used violence on a gentleman with connections, he could have lost his position because of his bravery.

Fanny is fine, I checked on her before I came here, and she slept well and is altogether very brave and strong.'

Bob doesn't seem angry so much as concerned.

'Why didn't she wake me? I would have been there for her, I would have comforted her. Now she suffered alone.'

'Mrs Darcy offered to have you fetched, but somehow Fanny was very afraid you'd fly in a rage and do something rash, she preferred to not see you until she had calmed down and was over the worst shock. She is now, and she wants to see you really badly, but I urged her to let me talk to you first.

What I want to tell you is this: I have contemplated calling the gentleman in question out, but Mr Manners, whom I respect greatly, has advised against that. He says it would damage Mr Wickham, while not helping Fanny or any other servant girls this man has assaulted.

Instead, Mr Manners offered to arrange a suitable penalty himself, with the help of his college friends. They are very close, and have corrected one of their own before, with punishments they decide on without court or law, among themselves.

Realising the law is probably not going to help Fanny and only bring Mr Wickham, her saviour, into deep trouble with the gentleman's family, I have decided to let Mr Manners and Mr Bingley handle this matter.

My question for you is, can you accept that? Can you believe his friends will punish him more effectively than you or I can? Can you let them handle this and spend your energy on comforting Fanny and showing her you don't blame her for what happened?'

Still Bob doesn't show any aggression or rage.

'I've known these things happen, master, and I've always congratulated myself they didn't happen in your household. I am shocked and upset to hear that Fanny was attacked, but I'm also thankful she wasn't actually ravaged.

I promise you I will not seek revenge from whoever did it, I don't even want to know his name or what he looks like. I will just do my job and be there for my lovely girl, and trust you to keep us safe.

Is that all right with you? When I've done the stalls and fed all four, can I take off a few hours to be with her, please master?

And thank you for reminding me she might blame herself, it didn't even occur to me, but I'll make sure to tell her I don't think she brought it on herself. She cannot help being young and beautiful, and she never flirts, not even with me when we're in company. Well, except at home, Cook allows us to hold hands and kiss sometimes.

May I thank Mr Wickham when I see him? We owe him a great debt for saving Fanny.'

'You may, Mr Wickham is someone who will actually appreciate that. I feel much better knowing you're not aggressive over this, Bob. If the perpetrator does not get sent away, we will leave for London this afternoon, if the weather allows, Fanny will not run the risk of being waylaid again.

I'm not going to keep you any longer, you do your job and go see her. Simon can chaperone if you feel you need one, he supported Fanny throughout. If you should feel rage later, tell Simon, and he'll fetch me to support you. I know a few tricks to keep it down, believe me I'm using them now.

Good day, Bob.'

'Thank you, sir, for caring about a mere maid and a lowly driver.'

And with that, he opens the door and nearly runs back to the stable to finish his jobs and see his girl.

Fanny is actually doing rather well. She is with her mistress, very early in the morning, but Elizabeth doesn't feel like staying in bed with her beloved gone.

Somehow, the girl finds solace in brushing her mistress' hair, and since Elizabeth doesn't object at all, her dark tresses are getting softer and softer by the minute.

'Did you sleep at all, Fanny?' she asks the girl, who looks rested and doesn't have red-rimmed eyes or any other sign of crying or fretting.

'I slept like a baby, ma'am, I never dream or lie awake, and I had a little punch yesterday before it happened. And Simon was so good to me, like the older brother I always wanted.

I do worry about Bob now, but I'm sure the master will convince him to let it go and trust to Mr Bingley and Mr Manners. I would hate to see Mr Wickham lose his position over me. Nothing happened, thanks to him, he should get a medal, not be punished.'

'Do you fear running into Mr Grenfell again?'

'Yes, ma'am, that I do. I'm afraid I could not treat him with the proper respect, ma'am, I'd be tempted to throw him nasty looks and call him names, I used to be out on the streets a lot with my cousins, and they taught me how to sass the other kids.

Of course that wouldn't be proper, and get me fired or back to being a common maid, which would be such a shame, for I like being your maid very much, and I was looking forward to seeing Pemberley and meeting Mrs Reynolds, and Peter, and his missus. Bob told me so much about everything and everyone, I'd hate to miss it.'

That girl really has spunk, if she is afraid of sassing Mr Grenfell instead of being assaulted again.

'But aren't you afraid he'd try again?'

'No ma'am, I trust Mr Darcy and the other gentlemen. If they say he will get his due, I trust he will, and I will not be afraid to be threatened again. I think the gentleman will be afraid of Mr Darcy, I certainly was, seeing him that angry.

It's such a romantic idea, if someone were to threaten you, ma'am, he'd challenge him to a duel, and they'd meet on a misty morning, with their seconds and a set of beautifully crafted handguns.

They'd load them standing back to back, then walk twenty paces, turn around and shoot. I'm sure Mr Darcy would wound his opponent, but not kill him, and that one would have to apologise on his knees, not to the master, but to you.'

And they thought romantic nonsense was a privilege of young ladies of their own class! Apparently low-born city girls are pretty good at spinning sugar-coated fantasies, too, and Elizabeth is a bit sorry to ruin it.

'But what if the perpetrator was the better marksman, Fanny, or a superb fencer? The master would get shot, maybe killed, or seriously injured.

I think I prefer to solve problems with talk, not violence, though I'm glad Mr Wickham dared apply it in your case.'

Even the image of her master getting shot doesn't spoil Fanny's fantasy, though.

'You'd nurse him back to health, I'm sure.

But I suppose you're right, ma'am, if the opposing gentleman won, he'd feel encouraged to do it again and again. Better have him punished straight away by his friends.'


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 48

At breakfast all the gentlemen of Mr Manners' circle are lacking, but there is still a sizeable party gathered at the table in the breakfast-parlour.

Though she knows everyone present, Elizabeth finds the atmosphere different from other days, of course Bingley is missing, but that is not the point.

The most obvious change is of course in Jane. As beautiful as ever, her marriage and wedding-night have transformed her, she still exudes calmness and dignity, but also a certain authority, she is now truly the mistress of Netherfield and it shows.

It doesn't matter one bit to Jane that Bingley is absent, if anything it makes her more aware she is now their hostess and responsible for all of her guests having a good time.

Without seeming self-important or bustling, she arranges everyone to have a place where they will appear to their best advantage, Mrs Bennet and her favourite daughter and son-in-law sitting together, with Mr Wickham next to Jane and the four adolescent girls on their other side, Mary included though she's not really part of the little group.

Georgiana sits furthest away from Wickham, next to Mr Gardiner, besides whom Mrs Gardiner can impress Miss Bingley with her excellent manners. Mrs Hurst sits next to her sister, and on her other side Mr Hurst is pleased to spend breakfast talking to Mrs Darcy, whose husband has Mr Bennet on his other side.

Elizabeth is starting to appreciate Mr Hurst, though she fears he may get hungry again soon, talking so much and eating so little.

From the corner of her eye she can see Jane spending time on Wickham, no doubt enlightening him on what is happening even now to ensure he will not suffer for his noble deed that night.

Georgiana is truly enjoying herself in the little clique of girls, trying to include Mary in their midst but not neglecting Mr Gardiner on her other side either.

All in all, Jane has kept them from wondering what is happening elsewhere in the house quite adequately, and after breakfast the mood doesn't change, they all move to the drawing-room to mingle again and discuss the weather and the wedding last night.

Elizabeth of course hopes to hear how Jane's night was, despite the interruption, though her sister's obvious happiness says enough. But Jane wants to talk, too, and soon they are sitting together in a little corner.

'Oh, Lizzy, I'm so happy! I'm glad you told me what to expect, for now I was much better able to enjoy it, I wasn't nervous at all. You know this whole business with Mr Grenfell and your maid showed me a totally different side of dear Bingley, he was positively compelling when we were finally alone. I was totally overcome.

Lizzy, I knew about Mr Manners' and Bingley's time at college, he told me all about it. Do you mind very much?'

'My dear Jane, I'm merely very glad to hear he told you, it doesn't change who he is, he's still the best man you could ever have met. I kind of like the idea of Bingley having this other side, but only if you do, too.'

Of course Jane has plenty to say about how perfect Bingley is, and how she loves him even more after such a night, after seeing him in charge of a situation, and so much respected by Mr Manners, who clearly is the natural leader of their group.

'And Mr Manners, Lizzy, he's obviously not who you thought he was, will that influence your opinion, and Darcy's?'

'Well, I suppose that cannot be helped, we thought he was a mild-mannered gentleman, but according to Fitzwilliam he is the uncontested leader of the lot instead of the amiable fellow he seems. He was quite persuasive, Fitzwilliam told me, even to a man like himself.

I do think Fitzwilliam still likes him, he's still invited to spend Christmas with us, provided Georgiana doesn't object after hearing about this.

I'll reserve my opinion for a while, let's first see how he is on longer acquaintance, we've only known him for a few days after all.'

'Always the wise one, dear Lizzy. I think Georgiana must be very pleased to have you to rely on. But then, she's such a nice girl, who would do less for her?

It's as if you are back home, with a sister by your side to confide in, I do envy you such a sweet sister-in-law.'

Poor Jane, she is married to the man of her dreams, but he does come with a couple of rather annoying sisters, though Elizabeth knows Jane isn't as quick as herself to find fault with people, is more willing to like them as they are.

And until Bingley buys his own estate Jane'll be very close to their father, and her own sisters will be just a few minutes' ride away.

'Do you have your own horse, Jane?'

'Your mind makes the strangest leaps, Lizzy, but yes, I do have a horse I can use. It's not exactly a lady's horse, not yet, Bingley has a connection of his coachman looking for a truly superior creature, like your mare, but he has a very kind road-horse in his stables that is used to carrying a side-saddle. Do you want to ride out together, in this weather?'

'You know I got Daisy in that exact same way? Such a treasure, hidden as a useful road-horse.

And yes, I'd like to ride out, the weather seems to have improved immensely, I suppose aunt and uncle Gardiner will want to leave today? Before the snow picks up again?'

Jane shows her disappointment only a little, her sunny disposition always wins.

'I'm sorry to see them leave so soon, but I understand they want to be back with the children as quickly as possible. I'm just glad they managed to attend at all, and we'll all be together again next week at your London house.

That sounds so fancy, Lizzy, at your London house! Did you ever imagine we'd both have a house in town?'

Elizabeth cannot help smiling, for no, she'd never expected herself to marry a rich man. Of course their mother had planned from the first that Jane would be married well, but to have Lizzy do the same must still surprise her immensely.

'I never did, Jane. Though I must admit it does feel like home already, I guess I kind of miss both houses, but that is mainly because the people there were so nice to me. Do you already feel at home here?'

'I do. And I like the idea of riding out together, I suppose you mean with both our husbands as well? Let's see whether we can arrange that, it must be very pretty outside with all the snow.'

They talk for another half hour, and then Jane needs to be the hostess once more, their aunt and uncle are leaving, and of course they all see them off.

And soon after that, Bingley and his college-mates return, excepting Mr Manners and Mr Grenfell.

Bingley lets Fitzwilliam and herself know that they decided unanimously to send Grenfell back to his own manor for two months, to be left by himself by their entire group of friends, not to seek out amusement elsewhere either, on punishment of being cast out of the group permanently.

'Manners is seeing him off, to make sure he actually leaves and to warn him that we'll be visiting to talk to his staff. He is not supposed to amuse himself at the cost of his own maids either, and Manners will make sure he knows we're going to enforce our will.'

Then the new, rather impressive Bingley changes back into the mild man they all know and love, and says cheekily, 'So, you two, Darcy, Elizabeth, Jane has told me that you ride every morning, weather permitting. And that afterwards you have to change to more suitable clothing, taking time to bathe of course, so as not to smell of horses.

I find the idea of an hour of total privacy with my beloved wife very enticing, so what would you say to using this beautiful day to continue your healthy habit, in the company of the two of us, and any of our friends who feel inclined to join in?'

Fitzwilliam accedes readily, and Elizabeth can't wait to explore the fairy-world outside from Daisy's back.

'I'm very ready to go out,' she replies, adding, 'and I'm sure most of the gentlemen will be eager to join us, but how will you mount them all? They arrived by carriage, didn't they?'

'I have several hunters myself,' Bingley replies, 'Manners brought his own since he really cannot refrain from the exercise, and I suspect we may use your father's riding horse. Not all my friends ride, I suppose we will have just enough, though we may have to draw straws who have to take the cobs. With the current weather we'll not go very fast anyway.'

In the end, no-one has to ride out on a cob, for only Mr Ponsonby, Mr Manners and Mr Acton join them, Mr Lascelles prefers to stay with Kitty and the rest of the ladies, they are all eager to talk French with him.

Elizabeth thinks Mr Wickham would like to join them, and though Fitzwilliam won't exactly like that, he is part of the family now, and he did save Fanny from being violated with no thought of the possible cost to himself.

'Would you like to join us, Mr Wickham?' she asks him, and his face lights up immediately.

'I'd love to, but I'm not good enough a rider to handle a hunter, I wouldn't dare risk such a valuable animal.'

'You can take my horse, Wickham, he's used to an old man, so I guess you and the horse'll be just fine.'

No matter what Fitzwilliam still thinks of Wickham, her father has certainly changed his attitude towards his least willing son-in-law. And though Elizabeth still doesn't trust Wickham as far as she can throw him, there is no reason not to include him in some activities, and she is glad her father has thawed a little towards him.

'Thank you so much, Mr Bennet, I'd love to see everything covered in snow from the back of a horse, and I must admit I do feel a certain need to be active, I'm not used to sitting inside all day and eating so much.'

And so they ride out, Elizabeth is used to riding in snow, of course, but Jane is not, though she seems to have a real bond with her horse already. It's rather an ugly rough creature, but he seems very faithful, and not likely to slip and fall or take off.

Fitzwilliam doesn't seem put out with his beloved inviting his hated brother-in-law along, he is in fact very happy to be outside and on horseback with her.

'You are always beautiful, Elizabeth,' he breathes, 'and I'll be much happier to see you ride astride again, but you look so incredibly good in that dress with the short coat over it. I fall in love with you all over again every time I see you ride.

I'm glad you invited Wickham, I couldn't do it but I felt guilty leaving him behind after what he did tonight. And I saw Bob thanking him for saving his fiancée from being violated, and he accepted so gracefully. No hauteur, no disdain, just heartfelt anger over what had happened and compassion towards Bob and Fanny.

I'm experiencing such a strange mixture of feelings towards him, Elizabeth, part of me still hates him and despises him for what he did, and part of me remembers the old days and hopes desperately he will stay on the right track.'

'Well, apparently Mr Manners has taken him under his wings for now, and in a few days he'll be days away from you.'

'And from you, Elizabeth, I hate it when he looks at you like a starving puppy.'

'Mr Darcy, I hope you know better than to think that man has any kind of power over me!'

The black horse flicks his ears, a sign his rider is squeezing him without reason, something Fitzwilliam has worked hard to avoid since their lessons with Peter.

Head bowed, he mumbles a reply.

'I know, love, you haven't even been altogether nice to him, but still I hate it when he looks at you like that. I can't help it, I can still remember your face when you defended him, that night. I was gutted.

And I know that was all my own fault for not telling anyone the truth. And for treating you miserably.'

'I wish I could take back what I said that night, my love, but I cannot. It was wholly undeserved, and I know that now. I love you so much, do you want me to stay out of his way altogether? I would do that for you. Jane can handle these little things with Lydia, you know.'

'No please, Elizabeth, don't indulge my weakness. I know you love only me, and I know you have to talk to him sometimes. He can even be good company, I really liked hearing him talk about the army.

It's just that look, as if he had a right to you somehow, it's like Miss Bingley showing her regret. There shouldn't be any, they have no right to feel it, we both made it clear our hearts were not for them.'

'I suppose you never encouraged Miss Bingley, love, but I have to admit I did like Mr Wickham a lot at one time. But I'm pretty sure he was merely enjoying the attention then, his regret over me started when he saw me happy with you.

I'm afraid Wickham will always envy you anything you have, Fitzwilliam, fortunately he'll be the first to have a child. Come on, let's forget about him and enjoy the ride. He'll be back at Longbourn tonight, and back in the north a few days later. We can be polite to him and ignore his theatrics until then.'

But Fitzwilliam is already over his sudden fit of jealousy, and they follow Bingley and Jane over the snow-white fields and through picturesque lanes with snow-laden branches overhead. Sometimes the horses wade through two feet of snow, then they cross an open field with less than a few inches cover, taking the opportunity to speed up a little, to a pleasant canter or even a short gallop.

Wickham is keeping up pretty well, and after a few miles Mr Ponsonby and Mr Acton move to ride on either side of him, probably to discuss last night's happenings with him. Mr Manners joins the two of them, his horse a beautiful grey with quite some thoroughbred in him.

'You are quite the horse-woman, Mrs Darcy,' he starts out, and Elizabeth checks whether that bothers Fitzwilliam, too. But it doesn't, it's just Wickham, he replies playfully to Mr Manners' remark, with a certain challenge to his sense of propriety.

'Wait until you see her riding astride, Manners, you won't see the difference with any of your friends, I'm sure.'

Mr Manners shows no shock or disapproval, merely admiration.

'You ride astride? Do you hunt as well?'

'I'm planning to, coming season.'

'Will you please let me visit? I so want to be part of that, a lady riding astride and hunting, it's my dream come true.'

Elizabeth sure feels his compliments, and Mr Manners continues, 'So I've sent Grenfell off this afternoon, he will not be bothering anyone in this house anymore, and I've assured Mr Wickham there will be no detrimental consequences to him either.

Grenfell was very repentant, he has suffered our justice before and it didn't suit him at all, he has little family and no other friends, you see.

Darcy, Mrs Darcy, I have taken the liberty of asking all three of your servants to not tell the other staff what happened, and they agreed.

I truly your admire the way you treat your staff, they're so loyal to the two of you, my valet tells me the other personal servants push your maid to tell them intimate details about you, but she just doesn't budge, not even after what happened last night, she is a very strong character.

They know not to even try with your valet, Darcy, he will not let anything slip, hasn't for years. Such loyalty cannot be bought, it must be earned.

You know most of the servants got drunk last night, but your maid and valet merely drank one glass of punch, then called it quits, which probably saved your girl's virtue. Had she indulged like the others, they would have gotten her to spill any personal information she had on the both of you, and she wouldn't have been able to resist Grenfell for so long.

But let us no longer talk about these annoying things, he is doing his penance, and I'm looking forward to spending more time with your family. Has Miss Darcy already passed verdict on my invitation, does it stand?'

Is this real or acting? Mr Manners seems truly humble, but Elizabeth cannot believe a man with such boundless influence on his friends could ever be anything but self-assured. Though Fitzwilliam certainly has had his moments of doubt, whereas he is generally as sedate as Mr Manners, maybe even the greatest men lose some of their security in matters of love and marriage.

And yet Mr Manners certainly doesn't strike her as smitten, Kitty and Georgiana are right in that.

'We haven't talked to her yet, Manners, maybe you want to explain to her yourself?'

Fitzwilliam and Mr Manners seem a lot less formal to one another since yesterday, but in a way that is logical, if her beloved didn't trust Mr Manners he would not have let him handle Mr Grenfell, he'd have insisted on seeing him brought to justice by himself.

The rest of the way, they have to concentrate on their riding, they are going a lot faster and choose their path with care.

Darcy enjoys riding in a group immensely, though he would enjoy it even more if Elizabeth was as safe as himself, riding astride. But he'll relish the picture of her in her fabulous dress for now, and look forward to spring, when he will help her push her riding skills once more with a real hunter of her own, and gradually introduce her to jumping obstacles. Daisy will be very useful to let Peter teach Georgiana to ride, and yes, also astride.

When they return they have their hour of privacy, after which Simon and Fanny come in to help them dress. Darcy has not forgotten his intention to check up on Mr Manners, and when Simon is busy arranging his hair, he asks negligently, 'Did you see Mr Manners yesterday evening, Simon, before all hell broke loose?'

Simon positively starts and colours, for once he is truly silenced, Simon, who never knows his place and always has something to say. But there is no reason he should feel responsible for what Manners does, he doesn't have any influence over a gentleman's behaviour after all, better explain his point.

'Mr Manners told me he was in the servant's quarters to deliver a letter for you to mail, Simon, and I thought I'd check his story from your side, last night has made me a bit suspicious. I wouldn't want to invite him to my very own house and find him sneaking in the servants' quarters harassing the maids.

We've known him for a mere week after all, and he already turned out totally differently from how he presents himself.'

Good, Simon seems to understand this does not really have to do with him, he looks relieved and when he replies, his voice sounds normal.

'I understand, master, and I commend you for taking such good care of your staff. But let me reassure you, Mr Manners was indeed with me, delivering a letter he wanted mailed. He'd done that before, the Netherfield staff was busy and I offered my assistance.

He did spy on the revelry in our common-room for a few minutes, but I dare guarantee that Mr Manners would never harass one of the maids. He's way too civilized to do such a thing.

All the other servants like him, not just his own valet, and you know they'd gossip if he had ever done something bad like that. Mr Grenfell's valet never mingled much with the rest of us, it's as if he knew something might happen.'

'So you think we can have him over without risking incidents?'

'I suppose he really is as nice as he seems, master, and frankly, the only way to find out is to get to know him better. He seems a perfect match for Miss Darcy, should she be able to gain affection for a plain man.'

Simon really has no shame, to talk about a gentleman like that, but he is just speaking out loud what all of them, including Georgie herself, have been thinking about, and Darcy does value his opinion.

'I'm sorry to ask such an intimate question, Simon, but I'm glad you saw fit to give me an honest reply.'

'No problem master, this is why we all love you so much. Now please take a look at yourself in this mirror, I'd dare say you look great once more, but of course the main competition is gone. I suppose Mr Wickham looks a lot better in my eyes today, but with his tailor he'll not even get the better of Mr Manners I'm afraid.'

However pleasurable it is to be in company well-dressed, after their relaxed months at Pemberley and their little family-circle in London it takes some getting used to to be judged on one's appearance day in, day out. One more week to go, and they'll be among loved ones only, and all this gilding and polishing will no longer be required. Simon will be disappointed of course, but Mrs Annesley will put him to work on the books and the stores immediately, and he'll be too busy to feel much regret.

But for now, they brave the drawing-room once again, to enjoy a few games of cards and some music before lunch.


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 49

The next days pass by pleasantly and relatively uneventfully, with conversation, exercise in snowy Hertfordshire, and of course some loving in private. Wickham first goes back to Longbourn, then leaves the neighbourhood altogether with his lovely wife, back to his regiment.

Elizabeth delights in long talks with her sister, and Darcy can see Kitty getting rather well-acquainted with Mr Lascelles. That is certainly not an unwelcome development, Mr Lascelles is a handsome man with a noble estate and pleasing manners, and if he doesn't mind that Kitty is poor and not as clever as her elder sisters, he has Darcy's blessing.

Not that she needs it, she has a father of her own, after all, but somehow Kitty and himself are getting used to each other, her awe of him is much reduced and she is growing as familiar to him as Jane is. Of course Georgiana and herself being so close makes a difference, too.

Miss Bingley is sadly disappointed with Mr Grenfell's departure, apparently Bingley hasn't even told her he was sent away in disgrace, they have kept his misstep from the others, though Darcy has insisted Manners tell Georgiana everything that happened or he'd do it himself.

Manner obliges, of course, and is still invited to London for Christmas. But to not tell Miss Bingley about Grenfell's behaviour seems outright dangerous, though of course if Bingley were to tell his sister, it would be all over the house within a day. For now, even most of the servants are still in the dark, Fanny, Bob and Simon have kept their quiet as promised.

When Darcy challenges Manners on his silence, the latter explains.

'When he has served his punishment, Grenfell has paid for his crime, and we want him to be able to pick up his life without having people prejudiced against him. And you know once the servants hear, it will be all over London as soon as the party breaks up.'

Darcy does not agree, he feels the world should know, but at least anyone within his responsibility is aware of Grenfell's true nature, and he did consent to Manners handling the affair. Still it would be sad if Miss Bingley were to suffer for her brother's boundless support of his friend.

Soon, the day has arrived that he will have to leave his beloved to take Georgiana to London for her piano-lesson, but despite that little detail of him going to miss Elizabeth terribly, he's actually glad to be doing something again.

He cannot remember why he used to enjoy being among friends so much, of course he feels satisfaction at finally having seen and talked to Bingley again, and it has been undeniably pleasant to ride out in a group, and to have more than a few intelligent people to talk to. But now he certainly feels the need to be active again, to run his estate and write letters of business.

And most of all he is aching for privacy, to be with only the people he loves, to openly show his affection, to read to them in the evenings, that ludicrous pirate story, to have Elizabeth correct Georgiana's mistakes on the piano meticulously without fearing to irritate the company.

Of course that last will have to wait a little longer, Elizabeth will stay with her sister a few days extra, and then they'll all move to London together, excepting Bingley's friends and sisters of course, they have their own engagements for Christmas, though Darcy is contemplating inviting Mr Lascelles as well as Manners, he has grown pretty close to Kitty, teaching her the rudiments of French, obviously finding great satisfaction in improving the pretty girl's mind.

Better ask Elizabeth before they separate for two lonely days.

And with Lascelles' pleased acceptance of their invitation, Darcy is ready to leave, and he kisses Elizabeth goodbye for a day or two. It's incredibly hard to leave her behind, and it's clear she feels their impending separation as much. They have not been apart since their marriage, not for more than an hour or so.

'Why don't you just come with us, Elizabeth? If it's so hard to leave my brother behind, why not join us? Mr Fielding will be pleased to see you as well.'

'Thank you for your kind invitation, Georgiana,' Elizabeth replies, 'but I think we have to do this, we can do this. Imagine how happy we'll be when we're finally reunited.'

'That's all right for you to say Elizabeth,' Georgie actually retorts, 'you'll be with your sister, who is almost ridiculously happy with Bingley, but I'll have to bear Fitzwilliam's constant sighs and melancholy air.'

Of course Elizabeth can't help laughing at that, and in fact Darcy guesses Georgie may be right, he'll have to watch out for self-pity, he was alone for years, he'll survive.

'Elizabeth is right, Georgie, I think we have to just accept being apart for a day or two, we'll get over it. And if I sigh or feel sorry for myself, you may kick me. We'll find some amusement, and the days will fly by.

Can I have one more kiss?'

Of course he gets his last kiss, and as Bob drives off, Elizabeth waves at them until they cannot see her anymore because the road takes a turn just across the river.

Two days without Elizabeth, it will be so weird and awful, but there will be plenty for him to do, and Georgiana is excellent company.

And the half day of travel indeed passes quickly, Bob is setting a good time, he must be eager to return to Fanny as well, no-one considers their feelings, perhaps Darcy shouldn't make a fuss about his own either. It's not that bad.

They stop only once to rest the team, having lunch at an inn, a tiny one in a picturesque village, Georgie wants something different for this special occasion, and it's pretty nice with excellent though simple fare.

It's pretty busy in town, as always, but they arrive safely. Bob stops the carriage to let them get out, then corners the house towards the stables. It's not as impressive to see him turn the tiny carriage with no more than one pair of horses, come spring they'll use the thoroughbreds again, they'll be frisky after a winter's lazing about.

There is no butler to receive them, not for this short visit.

Mrs Annesley looks relieved to see her master, that is not a good sign, but there doesn't seem to be anything really amiss either.

'Mr Darcy, I'm so glad you're here, and Miss Darcy, you look fabulous, you must have had a good time at the wedding.

I was expecting you for dinner, but I suppose Miss Darcy will want her lesson first?'

'Thank you, Mrs Annesley, dinner will be lovely, and indeed, we'll have to take a cab to Mr Fielding's in an hour or so, maybe we can get a cup of tea and a snack to tide us over until then?'

'You may not need that cab, sir, something happened the day before yesterday. Will you let me ring for tea before I tell you, and take your coats?'

At Darcy's nod she indeed rings and talks to the maid, who takes the coats from her and disappears quickly. The three of them march to the drawing-room, where a fire is burning merrily, and Darcy invites his housekeeper to sit down and explain.

'Well, sir, you told me there was a slight chance Mr Fielding would seek refuge in this house, and would be welcome anytime, though it wasn't likely he'd have to take you up on your offer.

Well, on Tuesday he was here, looking forlorn and more than a little disappointed with life. He said he'd done what Mrs Darcy and yourself had advised him, bare his soul to his patron, and had been given an ultimatum as a result: to marry his patron's daughter and play what that worthy ordered him, or gather his things and take himself away from the house, to support himself from then on.

He was distraught, apparently this patron had practically raised him from childhood, and Mr Fielding did not just feel rejected for this reaction to his owning up to his real feelings, he also felt guilty for disappointing his patron's expectations.

He was in a terrible state, Mr Darcy, fortunately he didn't object to letting myself and Cook comfort him with a listening ear and good food.

I managed to console him a little by stating that any advice from Mrs Darcy and yourself had to be good, that you were a much respected gentleman and would never urge anyone to betray their loyalties. That therefore, his patron must be in the wrong here, and to take heart and hope for the best.

We quickly readied the room for him, and he has been taking his meals with us in the kitchen since then, said he wasn't a gentleman and didn't deserve to be treated as such, and since he shouldn't be alone all the time we agreed to let him join us, Cook and I.

The rest of his time he spends playing the piano in the drawing-room, and such heartbreaking music as ventures forth from that usually cheery place, it makes the two of us feel for him so much. He's even better than I thought, sir, you are doing the right thing taking care he ends up well.

When he heard the carriage, he fled to his room, I suppose he feels bad about your finding him here, though I insisted you prepared me for such a thing happening. Will you ring for him, sir?'

'I think not, Mrs Annesley, he is not my servant and I will not encourage his humility by treating him as such. Mr Fielding's talent is a gift that should be treasured not just by himself, but also by the people around him.

His patron raised him as a gentleman, sending him to school, having his manners polished, he intended well by meaning Mr Fielding to marry his daughter, thereby elevating him to wealth in due time, he did however not take into account that by forcing his pupil into a lifestyle not of his own choosing, he actually reduced him to servitude.

For his talent to bloom, Mr Fielding needs to feel strong and self-assured, and therefore we will treat him as a gentleman. He will dine with us tonight, of course he may sit with you in the kitchen when we're away, if you think he will suffer from being alone.

I will talk to him and try to elevate him a little, and teaching Miss Darcy will cheer him up.

Though I regret this state of affairs, Mr Fielding need not suffer too much, I can easily take over where his patron left off, and the rest is up to him.

Imagine, Mrs Annesley, those heart-breaking compositions being played in every theatre in England, and the composer living under our very roof.'

Mrs Annesley acknowledges her employer's opinion, asking, 'What would you have me do then, sir? Fetch him myself for tea?'

'No need, Mrs Annesley, I will fetch Mr Fielding myself, see whether he is up to tea with Miss Darcy and myself, and if he needs some heartening first, I'll do that in my office.

You'll manage to entertain yourself for half an hour, won't you, Georgie?'

'I will, Fitzwilliam, no problem. To think Mr Fielding is right here in the house, and so upset. I can use a few moments to get accustomed to the idea, that means we'll be in each other's company constantly.'

And she sits down on a sofa, lost in thought, as Darcy decides he will see to Mr Fielding straight away, for he is hungry and ready for his tea.

Mrs Annesley has given their guest the room Darcy designated for his use, should it become a necessity, a rather large apartment with a bedroom and a sitting-room attached, knowing his stay will be of some duration if he needs to use Darcy's offer.

And he'll need a piano of his own, he cannot share with Georgiana, she uses the piano constantly, and he probably plays all day, practising, composing and entertaining himself. Darcy doesn't even know whether he owns his own piano, but that is something they can discuss later.

He knocks on the door calmly, expecting a distraught young man to open the door, but when Mr Fielding opens up he sounds tranquil enough.

'Mr Darcy, I wasn't expecting you to come by in person, I guessed you would send a servant to fetch me. Please do come in, your housekeeper has given me such a beautiful apartment, I have all I need to receive a guest.'

They shake hands, and Darcy takes one of the comfortable chairs to sit in. Mr Fielding sits in the other one.

'I'm very sorry your patron didn't react as we'd hoped, Mr Fielding. After being so close for years, to expect you to change your life so radically, and give up your ambitions to marry a girl you cannot love. I truly cannot believe it.'

'I've been racking my brain why this happened, sir. Whether I was unreasonable and ungrateful to want to keep developing. I can't decide, Mr Darcy, Mr Zumpe has done so much for me that it cannot end this way, it just cannot.

But I still can't crawl back on my knees and beg forgiveness, not because it would be demeaning, but because I cannot face the future I'd have, being stuck in a life I'd hate from the start, I'd resent Louise's love, as if it was her affection that shackled me to London and mediocrity.'

'Please try not to worry too much, we will keep you safe from want, you can play whatever you like and compose whatever your mind throws at you. I've designated you use of these rooms so you can have a measure of independence, a place to be by yourself and to practise in, and even receive guests in privacy.

Of course you are welcome in our midst whenever you care to join us, I expect you to dine with us whenever we are at home and you are not eating out, but you may sit wherever you like when we're away.

But Mr Fielding, to me you are a gentleman and a guest, and you have no obligations to pay for your keep in any way. We'll let you settle for a few weeks and then we'll make a plan for your future, see how you can develop your skills and work towards independence, if you prefer that, or my patronage, if we can come to an arrangement that is mutually satisfactory.

Do you own a piano?'

'Fortunately, I do, Mr Darcy. The instrument I used to teach Miss Darcy is in fact my own, but I didn't see a possibility to have it moved already, besides, it seemed a bit forward to do so without your consent.'

'And rightly so. Let's arrange for it to be brought here as soon as possible, we're expecting a large party of family and friends for the holidays, and I'm very certain you'd prefer to be able to practise and compose in peace with a house full of guests you don't know.

Do you want to supervise the removal yourself, or would you prefer not to face your patron so soon after what happened?'

Now Mr Fielding does show some of his despair and disappointment, and he practically begs, 'I need to make sure it is transported safely, but I cannot do it, I cannot face him. Or Louise. I'm so glad you understand, but what can I do but supervise?'

'Don't stress yourself, Mr Fielding, I've had at least three pianos moved in the last two years, two of them all the way to Derbyshire. I know a company that hasn't failed me yet, we'll send them in to pick up your instrument and deliver it to this very room. The owner of the company will be respectful towards your former patron, he is used to dealing with all walks of life.'

'Mr Zumpe will not give him any trouble, he gave me a fortnight to pick it up before he'd have it moved to his warehouse, he'll be pleased to see the end of this within days.'

'I'm certain Mr Zumpe regrets this as much as you do, Mr Fielding, but I'm also certain what he did was wrong. You'll have your opportunity to prove the worth of your compositions, to ourselves and our visitors, but I hope to others as well, though personally I have no idea how those matters work, we will find out.

Are you up to tea in the drawing-room with my sister and myself? We've been travelling all day in a cold carriage, and I'm hungry.'

'You mean sit with you and Miss Darcy, and chat?'

'Of course Mr Fielding, I consider you a gentleman belonging to this household, you can chat with Miss Darcy whenever you like, you can play the piano together, you may sit to one of her drawings, you know the boundaries of propriety and within them you are free to move where you will.

Though I've no musical mind at all, I'm not without talent, you know. I can read like no-one else, and if you have a mind to, you can sit with us in the evenings and listen in. Or read any book from the library, or play your latest creations to us, or some other favourite. Now, will you join us downstairs?'

The poor guy is almost stunned, apparently he expected to be some second rate inhabitant of the house.

'You were part of the family at Mr Zumpe's house, weren't you?'

'I was, but they're traders, they're rich but nothing more. And you know what happened with Louise, aren't you afraid...'

'You're a handsome fellow, Mr Fielding, and my sister admires your talent very much, but she is not an unsophisticated adolescent, she has enjoyed a very thorough education, and she's grown worldly-wise pretty quickly since she has become a woman. She knows she cannot fall in love with the first handsome face she meets, for that'll certainly deliver her into the hands of a mercenary looking to make his fortune quickly.

I trust you, and I trust my sister, enjoy each other's company, you two share a love for music that Georgiana can find with no-one else.'

'Thank you for your trust, Mr Darcy, I will not disappoint you. I'll be glad to join you for tea, I am starved for some company my own age, though your staff have been very kind to me when I needed it badly.'

When they walk into the drawing-room, Georgie takes one look at Mr Fielding and gives a little cry of shock, then runs towards him and takes his hand in sympathy.

'Oh Mr Fielding, you look so tired, and so sad, I'm so sorry this happened. But don't doubt your decision to stand by your own music, it is worth every bit of suffering, I'm sure.'

Such a reception, he clearly didn't expect that, and neither did Darcy. Georgie almost looks like the infatuated adolescent he just told this man she wasn't. But Mr Fielding reacts very appropriately.

'Miss Darcy, I suppose I do look a bit worse for wear, but that does not mean your staff have allowed me to suffer, I've been received very handsomely by them and just now by your brother. So please don't feel too sorry for me.

I just feel terribly guilty for not being able to conform to my patron's fond wishes.'

Of course Georgie can be a bit blunt at times.

'Fond wishes? Indenture you mean! Playing fairs and demonstrations, bragging your virtuosity when you have a unique gift to create music. Mr Fielding, you were not given your talent to waste it on promoting someone's instruments to rich tradespeople. You were endowed with this gift to give it back to the world in the form of valuable music, music that will stir the heart, and not just that of a well-fed, self-proclaimed connoisseur, but that of the ordinary man or woman as well.'

'Amen,' Darcy cannot help saying, and Mr Fielding's eyes are wide with surprise.

'Don't you dare give up your ambitions!'

'I won't, Miss Darcy. I wouldn't dare, frankly, if I'd incur your wrath by doing so. Thank you for believing in me, I guess we'll have a great time. There's music taking shape in my mind even now, I'll let it ripen and then I'll play it for you just before I write it down, to prove I believe you and will obey you.

Thank you so much for your kind reception, Mr Darcy, Miss Darcy, I was a bit worried to find you regretting your offer. This is a great relief to me.'

And to prove it, he eats heartily of the dainties provided with tea, and talks with relish to both of them.

Then when tea is finished, Georgie and him move towards the piano as one person, without speaking one word, and start their lesson.

Mr Fielding is back to his authoritative self instantly, though Georgie gets a lot of praise this time, she must have practised well despite being in company all week. And after an hour of disciplined application, Mr Fielding says, 'That was very well-done, Miss Darcy, you must have practised a lot, and very efficiently, you seem to have addressed all those little things I pointed out to Mrs Darcy and yourself.

And how was the piano? Did it measure up to your new standard? Did you manage to get it in perfect tune?'

'It was pretty good, Mr Fielding, it turned out to be as modern an instrument as your Zumpe, I cannot imagine why Mr Bingley would have such an expensive piano-forte in a leased house, but he did. And it wasn't very badly tuned at all, just sloppily. We had it fixed in half an hour, Mrs Darcy and myself, and she did help me a lot with those nuisances you told me to take particular care to correct.

You know I played with an orchestra on the wedding itself, it was a thrill.'

This is the first time Mr Fielding and Georgie have the time to just chat about music, normally she would leave right after her lesson, and it is clear they are both overjoyed to finally have a companion who can talk music by the hour.

As they start discussing the instruments the orchestra was composed of, and the likely level of expertise of a local collection of musicians calling themselves the Meryton Merry Ten, Darcy suddenly remembers he has some business to attend to this afternoon, arrange for Mr Fielding's piano to be picked up and brought to his room, and ask Mrs Annesley how preparations for the Christmas party are coming on and tell her to plan in two extra guests.

He quietly leaves the room, not to disturb the two remaining, and frankly, they don't even see him g out.

Of course Georgiana does see him leave, and she feels a mixture of pride, to have Fitzwilliam trust her enough to leave her by herself with an adult man, and confusion, to be sitting here by herself with a man she knows is in love with her.

It's so weird to have him part of their household all of a sudden, she feels she needs a little time to adapt, but here she is, talking away about music like never before in her life.

'Can we talk of music a little more, Georgiana? I feel as if the world has dropped away from under my feet, and sitting here discussing pianos and violins makes me feel less forlorn.'

He is so right. If anyone has a right to need a little time to adapt to a new situation, it's Eric. He's been kicked out by his patron, a man he loved as a father figure.

'I'm sorry Eric, I felt a bit uncomfortable having my piano-teacher chat with me, I've idolized you more than a little, you know. But I do try to understand how you must feel, and I will do whatever it takes to make you feel at home with us.'

Eric seems surprised.

'You idolized me? I thought I was quite a taskmaster. Sometimes after one of your lessons, I felt I had been so demanding you might rightfully despise me. Then the next time, I would try to take it easy on you but somehow I always ended up pushing you as far as you would go.'

'Eric, you are the best pianist I have ever heard. Of course I idolize you! I know you are a demanding and authoritative person, but how else would you get the best out of a pupil, how else would you have reached the height of your own potential?'

'So you do think I'm a taskmaster?'

Why does that bother him? It's who he is, isn't it?

'Yes, I suppose you are. But that's only natural, isn't it? Otherwise you would be lying under a tree, chewing on a sprig of hay, waiting for your cows to finish grazing for the day, maybe whistling a tune in perfect pitch.

Or you'd have married Louise, let yourself be waited on hand and foot between selling pianos and playing sonata's.

You're supposed to drive yourself, and your pupils, Eric, that is what makes you worthy of admiration.'

Oh my, if he looks at her like that on a regular basis, she's really going to fall in love with him. He's so handsome, the dark worry-circles under his eyes make him even more ravishing and he seems so... vulnerable.

'It's mostly other people's expectations that make me that way, Georgiana. Please don't judge me too harshly, I'm so afraid to fail the people who have supported me, who pay me for lessons, that I cannot seem to take it easy, to trust in my talent and my abilities to give them their due.

I'm so afraid to disappoint the people who invest in me, and now I've disappointed my patron. But I don't want you to just respect me and obey me, I desperately want you to like me, Georgiana. To talk about music, but also about other things. About yourself. About me.

I'm actually quite a nice man, Georgiana, sensitive, and also with a sense of humour. You've only seen me at my worst.'

'Eric, you're just upset with what happened. Of course I like you, I always did. You're not that bad, truly, I love taking lessons with you because you always explain things, and really care about helping me develop my talent.'

Never in her life has Georgiana felt so helpless in the face of someone else's grief. Except that time when Fitzwilliam was sick with love, but she had the right to hold him and comfort him. She can't even take Eric's hand to show him she cares, she has nothing but words to try to put some heart in him, and somehow Eric seems beyond the application of words.

But not music. Never music.

'Please believe me, Eric, everything will turn out fine. You can show me your true personality at leisure, and you may play any music your mind provides. You'll never have to deny yourself with us.'

That is a relief to him, she can see him digest that bit of information, and his beautiful features brighten.

'I can, can't I? Will you let me play for you right now? Please?'

'Eric, to listen to your playing is not a favour, it's a privilege. So, yes, please, play for me.'

And music is his means of forgetting everything for a few moments.

Georgiana suppresses an urge to stroke his beautiful black hair, then moves out of his reach, he'll need the space and when he is really playing with concentration he won't feel her presence until he bumps into her.

Taking a comfortable chair and pulling it as close as possible to the piano, she can see him concentrate on the music in his mind, and disappear to a place where he will be free of doubt or regret for an hour or so.

When he strokes the piano to produce the first chord, she is as lost to the world outside as he is.

This time, being caught up in Eric's music is not altogether pleasant, for it makes her part of his hopelessness, he is slogging through the snow all by himself, driven from hearth and home, desperate for a little warmth and affection, rejected by the people he loved for wanting to be himself instead of some image they hoped to fit him into.

Of course it never happened this way, but his fear to become destitute must have been real, and his feeling of rejection certainly is.

The beautiful music doesn't indulge in self-pity, he promises himself he will rise to the challenge, and follow his dream anyway, go to the continent again, through the lovely green valleys of the Danube to the magnificent city of Vienna, where he will measure his skills against the best performers of the continent.

Of course he will triumph, this music now reflects his trust in his gift, the force of his dream that has brought him this far, he cannot fail to perform in this mood.

And then the music changes again towards intimacy, the warm side of an English winter, a cheery fire, the whole family gathered to celebrate the shortest days of the year.

The performer, who ruthlessly shoves aside all that is not essential to his success, still yearns for love, and for someone belonging to him, accepting him as he is, with all his talent but also his failings and needs.

The music tugs at Georgiana's heartstrings, spoken not in words but in flowing notes she must believe his assurances, Eric cannot lie in his music, it comes straight from his heart, he is indeed a man of feeling, besides his driving ambition he also has an overpowering need for acceptance and love, and though most people would only hear heartbreakingly beautiful music, to Georgiana it's language, and she can understand what he tells her as if spoken in the most articulate English.

This is a declaration of love, and in the shape of Eric's overpowering music it is much more real than spoken words could ever be.

Eric cannot tell Georgiana outright that he loves her, he is beneath her and now dependent on her brother for his very survival.

But his music speaks to Georgiana, more intently than anything else has ever done, and deep inside her, she feels a spark kindle in reply.

She has no idea what love is, she knows it can take a long time to grow and bloom, but from this moment on she will spend some thoughts on marrying a penniless pianist.

Georgiana doesn't think she's in love, not yet, but Eric's plea that he is not the ruthless driving force she's known him to be so far has touched her, and she will allow the possibility of loving this beautiful, sensitive, gifted man some time and space in her mind.

Her feelings, stirred by his music, by the plea for love and acceptance in it, will not be denied, and when he finishes his tour de force, playing the music in his mind with no help of written music whatsoever, and sits still, bent over the keyboard of her beautiful Buntebart, still lost in his feelings and probably rather worn out with worries and guilt, she gets up and does stroke his hair, with all the feeling of that moment.

He looks up at her, eyes still a bit glazed with the intensity of his concentration, and Georgiana kisses him on his lips very lightly, a mere brush, then runs out of the room in total confusion.


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter 50

When Darcy returns to the drawing-room, expecting to find Georgie deep in conversation with Mr Fielding, he is greeted by unabashedly romantic music, obviously played by Mr Fielding since he has never heard the likes of it, but no Georgie in sight.

Mr Fielding is lost in his playing, so Darcy merely picks up a newspaper to catch up on the local news. Why would Georgiana have left? They cannot have quarrelled, he is convinced this manner of informal playing reflects Mr Fielding's mood directly, and it exudes hope, and higher feelings.

Georgie must have retired for a nap after their long hours of travel and a demanding lesson almost immediately following up on it.

'Mr Darcy! Have you been here long? I'm sorry to have intruded on your privacy with my constant playing, you should have warned me when you came in!'

'If constant playing bothered me, Mr Fielding, I would have had a music-room furnished in my house years ago. I have a near-boundless tolerance for music, Miss Darcy spends whole days at the piano as well. The reason why I have arranged for your piano to be moved tomorrow is not that I want to banish you to your own room for practise, it's because you'd get into a fight with Georgiana over who gets to use it.'

And now Mr Fielding betrays his feelings for the very first time in Darcy's presence, his face goes positively soft and he says dreamily, 'I could never fight with Miss Darcy over anything.'

'Then you'll never get any time on the piano, for she may have be a meek pupil so far, but you're on her turf now, and she'll defend her piano vehemently.'

Mr Fielding clearly doesn't believe such a description of his obedient student, his next words clearly prove he thinks Georgie must be an innocent angel.

'Thank you so much for helping me, Mr Darcy, imagine where I'd be if you hadn't. I'm afraid I may have frightened Miss Darcy somewhat, sir, in our talk and afterwards when I played in her presence. I'm afraid some of my shock and my feelings of betrayal and guilt came through, and she left in a hurry.

She's still so young, I should have controlled myself better. We've hardly ever spoken before, and she did tell me she looked up to me as her instructor.'

'I wouldn't worry too much over that, Mr Fielding, she's had a long day and a demanding lesson. And she does admire you, to have you around all the time is going to be a bit intense at first.

And anyway, don't expect to be able to hide anything from Miss Darcy, she may be quiet, but she is very observant, and very subtle, I don't even think you could hide these feelings from her. She'd read them in your face or your posture, and hear them in your music.

I tried to hide something from her once, and I never knew she had seen right through me until she confronted me with the exact problem I was facing. She'd worked it out all by herself.

So don't worry about my sister, she's almost grown, she can handle your feelings.'

Georgiana is indeed upset, but by her own feelings, not Eric's. To have behaved like that, so indecently, and totally on impulse. And the strange feeling that caused it, that spark of tenderness towards Eric, was that love?

If it was, it will grow stronger no doubt, making her feel flushed around him all the time, not just when he is playing, and she'll want to touch him all the time, and be with him. It will be very interesting to finally be in love, but also disconcerting, in each other's company constantly, and even worse, with Mr Manners around, too.

She has told Mr Manners she has never loved, and now she may be falling in love after all, and not with him.

An hour's quiet contemplation settles her feelings reasonably well, though she still feels rather bad about touching him so very indecently. But if he hadn't told her he loved her in such heart-rending music, she would never have felt like touching him at all.

It was partly her own lack of control, but his music touched her so deeply, who could have resisted it?

Well, it can't be helped now, what's done is done, and she'll have to face him over dinner. Better go back to the drawing-room right away, then they can both find some occupation to hide the embarrassment Georgiana has caused them.

Still, she feels some reluctance walking down the stairs, crossing the hall she can hear music again, she must have died and gone to heaven, for she realises just now that she can ask Eric advice any time she likes, he will not refuse her, he loves her.

He'll sit right beside her and look at her in a certain way, and she'll smell his cologne. Her hand still feels the softness of his hair, and she vaguely remembers he smelled differently when she kissed him.

That's it, now she knows. She's smitten. It this what love truly is? The constant urge to touch someone, to catch a hint of their scent, to relive those moments of intimacy over and over again without a single thought of reluctance or shame?

Is Eric struggling to keep from touching her every time they sit on that stool together? Is he aching to touch her hair, how did he lean over a piano with her without brushing his hand against hers?

Easily enough, she guesses. Had he done such a thing, she would have been shocked, and he would have lost his job as teacher and his chance to ever see her again. And Georgiana knows she can show the same discipline, isn't that what being a pianist is all about? Practising for hours each day, not allowing yourself a single mistake, playing it over and over again until you do it right.

If he can do it, she can do it.

By the time she dares enter the room, she has made the resolution to hide her feelings as well as Eric does, at least until she has an idea of what life would be like as a pianist's wife. And until he has proven beyond doubt that he has a mild side, not just the driving ambition that has characterized him as a person so far.

And she wants to learn to play what he plays now, it must be horrendously difficult, and it lacks the feeling his own compositions exude, but boy do those Mozart sonatas sound impressive!

Apparently, sonatas don't even require Eric to concentrate to the exclusion of everything else, for he looks up at her entrance, and smiles sweetly, but without infatuation. Good, it won't do to rile up Fitzwilliam before anything is certain.

Her brother looks up from a newspaper and also smiles. Two such handsome men smiling at her, how can a girl stay out of sorts for any stretch of time?

'Georgie! You're back. Did you take a nap? You must have been exhausted after the trip and your lesson. Mr Fielding was afraid he'd frightened you off by talking about his feelings over his falling out with his patron. But I told him you are not that easily impressed, are you?'

Not by those feelings her brother mentions, no. And not by mere talk either.

'I guess it was a bit tiring, the trip and the lesson, but I'm fine again and eager to learn more about the sonata you were just playing, Mr Fielding. And my brother is right, Mr Fielding, you do not have to hide your feelings from me, I can handle them, I'm as good as grown up.'

Eric looks at Fitzwilliam helplessly, and her brother laughs out loud and observes, 'Well, there's at least half an hour left before dinner is served. Are you up to some entertainment tonight, Georgie? Or do you prefer to stay in tonight and listen to Mr Fielding play?

I thought we could go to the theatre tonight, all three of us, if we let ourselves be entertained I may be spared from missing my dear lady too much.'

Oh yes, poor Fitzwilliam! His first night without his beloved, and Georgiana has been totally self-involved.

'Of course I don't mind going to the theatre, but can we choose a comedy? I will probably get pretty tired tonight, and I'd prefer not to have to think too much. You will come with us, won't you, Mr Fielding?'

Eric cannot seem to believe that they want him along.

'Won't I be in your way? I cannot believe you'd truly want me to come with you, I'm sorry, I don't want to seem rude or ungrateful.'

This is getting pretty tiring, and rather difficult, to keep wanting to touch him, and make him smile again, yet having to stop herself from doing just that. Georgiana fervently hopes it will get easier in a few days, most things become routine, why is she so afraid this will not? If only Elizabeth were here, Georgiana knows she cannot keep this a secret from the entire world, she has to talk to someone, and Elizabeth will understand.

'I actually think we need you to come, Mr Fielding, not only are you very welcome to join us in enjoying the entertainment London has to offer, Georgie and I are both the silent type, we can spend a whole night in each other's company without saying a single word. Happily, I may add.

But that will not keep my thoughts from my beloved wife, so I'm begging you to come with us and force us to keep some conversation going, or I will not be able to sleep a wink tonight. Elizabeth is worth a sleepless night, I know, I've spend dozens of them before she accepted my offer of marriage, but why suffer when one can be entertained?'

'In that case, Mr Darcy, I'll join you and gladly so. I love seeing other people perform, and I enjoy both your company very much indeed.

I'm looking forward to it.'

And since Fitzwilliam's interest is soon back to the paper, Georgiana accepts Eric's unspoken invitation to sit beside him at the piano, where her urge to snuggle a bit closer than usual is easily overcome by her eagerness to learn to play the sonata.

Of course one cannot learn to play a sonata in three quarters of an hour, but they spend that time in such a comfortable manner, talking more than usual during a formal lesson, Eric almost gay and playful, though very correct, Georgiana secretly relishing their closeness and his occasional touch.

She no longer resists the exultant feeling she gets from this, she decides to save her energy to not let it show too much, and to resist her impulse to reciprocate. The feeling of his lips on hers, actually the reverse, but the feeling is the same, isn't it?, it lingers, but she finds she can quite easily resist the temptation to do it again.

Long before she tires of their interaction, dinner is served, and they move to the dining-room together.

'Miss Darcy, your eagerness to soak up knowledge has totally made my day,' Eric announces happily.

'I feel so much lighter than the last week, I have never lived in the past or contemplated it much, but I've felt such doubt about spending every minute of my life on music, and now I'm totally convinced once again it is what I was born to do. I don't particularly like playing sonatas, I think they're soulless pieces written to brag technical prowess, but teaching them is an entirely different matter. It's great fun!'

He eats well, again, though he is rather slim, and Georgiana finds herself wondering whether he is a sportsman at all.

'Do you ride and hunt, Mr Fielding?'

'I wish I did, Miss Darcy, but unfortunately I never got to learn. I wrestled and fenced in college, and I wasn't at all bad at team sports like cricket, but my patron preferred I'd steer clear of any activity that might induce serious physical harm, so I never got to play football either.'

Fitzwilliam obviously thinks that a shame, riding and hunting used to be his life's pleasures, before he met Elizabeth, that is. Of course she has adapted magnificently, learning to ride herself, and Georgiana is resolute to try herself next spring.

'Are you afraid to get hurt, Mr Fielding?'

Is there a measure of challenge in her brother's voice? As most other gentlemen, Fitzwilliam does measure manliness on a scale heavily weighed with physical prowess, and though Eric can probably break her brother's hands with the strength in those slim fingers, he'd never risk any hurt to them.

To Georgiana that doesn't make him less a man, but to her brother it may.

But Eric takes the challenge frankly.

'I cannot guarantee I wouldn't feel afraid the first time I mounted a horse or heard a gun go off next to my ear, sir, but I'd sure like to test myself.'

'In that case, Mr Fielding, you'd better come with us to Pemberley this spring, I have a stable-boy who can teach you the principles of riding a horse in a few weeks. I can instruct you on the use of a gun myself, in fact, Mrs Darcy is planning to join the hunt next season, I cannot see why you wouldn't as well, unless you are otherwise engaged by then, of course.

Your ambitions must not be hindered by a gentleman's amusements, if he opportunity to develop your talent abroad should arise, you should of course take it. Though knowing how to ride and hunt will recommend you to the good graces of most influential people of standing, I'm sure.'

'Please, come, Mr Fielding, you can play my Clementi if you do.'

Georgiana can hardly control her excitement, to have her lessons even when residing at Pemberley. And to learn to ride together, and maybe Fitzwilliam will allow his sister to learn to shoot.

And to be with Eric.

If he doesn't find a mentor in Vienna, or Geneva, or Paris.

Eric bows gracefully and acknowledges, 'If I am at liberty at that time to accept your hospitality, I will surely do so very gladly. Thank you so much for your kind offer, Mr Darcy, in a way I think I'd like to learn things not connected to music, I'm feeling a distinct lack of worldly knowledge. I've been raised very sheltered, to be very good at just one thing, playing a piano. But my current situation has reminded me I know nothing else.

Of course it would be great fun as well, to spend time with your family at your estate. It is reputedly one of the most beautiful places in England.'

'So you'll come?'

'Yes, please, if circumstances allow.'

Fitzwilliam now thinks for a moment, then asks, 'Mr Fielding, I do not want to push you towards anything, but would you appreciate learning some of those other skills? Like handling money, running a household, directing servants, doing accounts? All sorts of useful stuff, should you need to manage your affairs at some time in your life?

Frankly, enabling you to take charge of your own life?

I've learned them, though few of my class have, most employ a steward for those tasks, but my father urged me to learn anyway. Not all stewards are dependable after all.'

That is a veritable eye-opener to Eric, and nothing less to Georgiana. Wouldn't that be the perfect way to start her exploration of possibly living with a pianist? Knowing what things cost? Knowing where to get them? Knowing how to run a household, at least in theory?

If she finds out she cannot do it, she may be in time to crush her fancy for Eric and choose a rich, dominant man like Mr Manners. For the trouble with Mr Grenfell has not only proven her estimation of that gentleman to have been rather astute, it has also given her some added insight in Mr Manners' nature.

He may be a true gentleman and very well-bred, he is also a very strong character and used to being obeyed. Even by Fitzwilliam Darcy, apparently.

'I cannot think of one reason why I didn't even consider learning those things earlier, Mr Darcy. If I'm to ever be self-reliant, I need to know. I'll never be able to afford a steward.'

Fitzwilliam laughs, and replies, 'I know only too well how easy it is to let others take care of the tedious stuff. Mr Zumpe kept them far away from you and urged you to improve your musical skills, because they were worth more to him.

I don't need to get my money's worth from you, Mr Fielding, I'm not a business man, I'm a land-owner, my duties lie with my people.

Let me think on this tonight, and maybe tomorrow on the road back to Hertfordshire, and when we return I will help you acquire those skills you'll need to arrange your own affairs and possibly start a business of your own.'

'I want to participate, Fitzwilliam.'

Georgiana can see surprise on both faces.

'Yes, why should I not need to be able to know when I'm being cheated, or when I'm spending too much money? Who says I'll always be rich, or in the care of a man? Why should I not know how to run a household?'

To her delight, both faces nod, and her brother offers, 'Elizabeth told me she knows how to do these things, she said she had no reason to expect she'd ever marry into an independent income, so she thought she had to learn.

Though you have your own fortune, Georgie, or maybe because you have your own fortune, you are right, you should know, too.

Well then, I suppose I'll explain the theory, but you'll get your practical education from the people who do the actual work around here, Simon and Mrs Annesley, and at Pemberley there will be Mrs Reynolds and my steward. Though all of these people are busy, I suppose they can spare both of you half an hour now and then.

Though Mrs Reynolds will look at me in a certain way to show me her disapproval in Georgie's case. Still, that cannot be helped.'

Satisfied with a good idea to build upon, they spend some time planning the rest of their evening until it is time to dress for the theatre, checking the paper which comedies are running at the moment.

'Let's do something mad, and go to this one,' Fitzwilliam suggests.

'But Mr Darcy, that is in a terrible part of town, you cannot possibly take Miss Darcy there, can you?'

Her brother merely smiles cheekily and offers, 'Why not? We'll have ourselves dropped off at the doors, and picked up straight after the show. Frankly, I've been to worse theatres, and a terribly run down side-show that I'm planning to take all of you to once the weather turns a bit more forgiving.

This show will be great fun, with buckets of tears, and streams of blood. No-one will bother us, people tend to leave me be even in the worst neighbourhoods. Maybe they remember my father.'

Georgiana knows she must look like a fish.

'That's right, Georgie, according to Mr Wickham, our father often took him to these parts of town to enjoy themselves with all kinds of baser pleasures.

We're not going to try any of those, just a terrible play in a terrible neighbourhood. It'll be fun. If it indeed is, we'll have to take Elizabeth there, and her father.'

Well, Georgiana never knew her father very well, just a vague figure from her early past, and she cannot deny her brother anything, especially not when he must be feeling rather lonely, so she nods her assent. Eric does voice his affirmation.

'I kind of like the idea. If I'm indeed destined to bring music to the lower classes, as your lovely wife seems to think, maybe I should see what moves them first. They may surprise me yet.'

'Not in this show, Mr Fielding, I'm pretty sure it will confirm your worst expectations. But it will be fun nonetheless, we'll take a box and watch them from a safe distance.'

In fact Darcy is a bit apprehensive as they get out of the carriage in front of a large building with elaborate decorations on the outside. They are wearing their usual finery, and it attracts a little more attention than he expected.

But he merely acts as he did when looking for Wickham in a place much like this, and apparently it works, for people make way for him. It helps that Georgie and Mr Fielding are not impressed, or openly disdainful of their surroundings, but merely very interested.

At the ticket-window, Darcy asks for a private box, and he chooses the best one from several that are still available. Then he waves at Bob, who heads back to the stables, to fetch them at eleven.

After having paid for the box, they are led straight through the theatre by a pretty young girl in a gaudy uniform, fortunately one that covers her body, though clearly showing her feminine curves.

His size and demeanour still have the useful effect of people making way for him, and soon they are seated in a spacious private area on the balcony, on luxurious plush seats, with a terrific view on the stage and the hall below.

The girl takes their orders for drinks, then leaves, and they check out the theatre.

It is rather large, and must have been glorious once, and though it has fallen into a certain state of disrepair, it is still rather impressive, and starting to fill up nicely with working-class people and some rather noisy young gentlemen in more expensive suits.

The title of the play was none either of them knew when they read it in the paper, but it sounded like bloody mayhem, which the scenery seems to confirm, it looks like a rickety pirate vessel under a menacing blood red moon, ropes actually flapping constantly against a very real looking mast, and wooden planking creaking, as if the vessel is indeed floating in a secretive inlet of some smuggler's coast, though the play hasn't even started yet.

Someone is paying a lot of attention to the special effects of the whole, and Darcy loves it already.

Since there is no curtain to raise, the start of the actual play is signified by the dimming of the lights in the hall, and the lights on the stage getting a good deal brighter.

The action starts with an exciting night-scene, in which someone is freed from the ship in secret, after which the whole ship disappears from the stage! The scenery is changed into a beautiful room, using a few large pieces of scenery lowered from the ceiling. The work involved in building and painting this, and all the cunning machines and the people operating it! There must be a whole separate cast working behind the scenes! Darcy loves it, he barely looks up when their drinks arrive, he pays and tips the girl for her trouble, still keeping an eye on the action.

Now the plot is revealed, some general's lady has been kidnapped from a ship that was to take her to the colonies, the vile deed apparently done by pirates in the service of some other country.

A hero is sent to get her out, but when he has left the room to fulfil his assignment or die trying, the mourning general shows himself to be the true villain, having set up the kidnapping himself to keep a profitable war going despite efforts to make peace, and get rid of his barren young wife into the bargain.

The whole room disappears once more, and a native village descends in its entirety.

The rest of the play is exciting, drenched in blood, of course the lady and her rescuer fall in love and almost die in a trap of the general's making, find out the true plot and turn the tables on the hero's villainous superior.

In a heart-rending scene the wife watches her lover fight her faithless husband and prevail, but at great cost to himself.

But of course all ends well as the second-in-command discovers his boss' treason and makes everything all right.

By then they have seen the ship several times, from the outside but also stripped to see inside. The village with natives has been the scene of many a fight and an attempted dinner with the hero as main course. And there is a scene in a city, with lots of fights on the ramparts, and men dying to the hero's sword in droves and gallons of blood.

When it is done, Georgie has bright cheeks with excitement, and Mr Fielding, on Darcy's other side, is as flushed as she is.

'That sure was exciting!' is his heartfelt comment. 'I guess they like their entertainment as life-like as possible, no subtleties required or even wanted, just plain action. Even if the action is rather far-fetched, it looks as if it is totally real.

And anyway, I say they, but I liked it, too!'

Georgie is as honest in her praise, 'I loved it, Fitzwilliam, and I think most people would. Thank you for convincing us to go.'

They decide to leave straight away, Bob will be waiting already for it is past eleven, and Georgiana must be very tired, since she takes his arm gladly as he offers it.

'I'm certain we'll have to take all the others to see this, don't you think, Georgie?'

'Yes, Kitty would love it, and so would Elizabeth, I'm sure. Maybe you can make reservations for a large party during their visit? It will be a great hit, I'm sure.'

Before long they are back at the house, and ready to turn in.

'Have you any idea what time you are leaving tomorrow, Mr Darcy?' Mr Fielding wants to know.

'I'd like to be back at Netherfield by dinnertime tomorrow, or Elizabeth will worry, so I guess we'll have to leave just before lunch. Plenty of time to play the piano together, Mr Fielding, and I may even still be here when your piano is delivered, but if I'm not, Mrs Annesley will take care of everything.

Next time, you will be able to arrange such a thing all by yourself.

We will be back in four days if all goes well, and two days after that our family and friends will join us for our Christmas celebrations. You are invited to participate in everything, but not obliged to anything, if you need a little time to yourself do not hesitate to retreat.

There will be a lot of bustle going on in the house, with preparations for our party, I'm afraid that cannot be helped.

If there is any trouble, anything you cannot handle yourself, with your former patron or anyone else, do not hesitate to send for me. I want you to feel safe and at home, so just tell Mrs Annesley, and she'll send for me. It's a mere four hour journey on my horse.

Good night, Mr Fielding, I'm glad we all get along so well.'

And Darcy leaves for his bedroom, to spend an hour on thinking of his beloved before he finally falls asleep.


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter 51

Georgiana is left with Mr Fielding, and he looks as if he wants to tell her a thousand things, and ask her a thousand questions. But he doesn't.

Neither does he take her hand and press it to his lips, as she guesses he must be wanting to, judging on her own feelings at the very moment.

But he does look happy and eager for what the future will bring, which was not the case when they first arrived, something that matters a lot to her. Somehow, her rash action of this afternoon has given him some hope, and rightfully so, or maybe it was Fitzwilliam's easy acceptance of his addition to their household. Or maybe both.

They will have a glorious morning together, Georgiana is sure of that, and when they come back Eric will be more more at ease with their presence.

'You're not a great talker, are you, Georgiana?'

'No, I'm sorry. Fitzwilliam and I can easily be silent for a whole morning and not mind one bit.'

'I don't mind either, though I'm not used to people not talking incessantly. But I'm sure I will get used to it very quickly, especially since whenever the two of you do speak, it makes terrific sense.'

'Sooner or later one of us is going to slip with the Mr and the Miss, you do realise that, don't you, Eric?'

'I do. You're not suggesting I should call you Miss Darcy again, are you?'

'No, I guess we'll take what's coming when we do bungle. But Elizabeth knows, so I suppose my brother also knows, and still he leaves us by ourselves all the time.

Eric, I'm sorry for what I did this afternoon. It was indecent, and if I gave you any pain or embarrassed you in any way, I apologise.'

He swallows hard, and his beautiful eyes catch her in an intense gaze.

'Please don't feel bad, Georgiana, it is I who should apologise. Most people around me don't experience music as I do, I'm used to being among those who feel its beauty but don't understand it literally. You understand my music word for word, exactly as it springs from my mind, and this afternoon I told you something that may be an incredible burden for you to know.'

Georgiana has to clasp her hands behind her back firmly, for the urge to stroke his cheek and kiss him is getting stronger and stronger. Eric doesn't seem to notice at all, he's blaming himself for what happened.

'What you did, Georgiana, was a reaction to my confession and my earlier despair. Had you been able to refrain from trying to comfort me, after what you had just heard, you would have proven yourself totally heartless, which you certainly aren't.

I don't blame you, I don't even blame myself for what happened. From now on I just need to be careful what part of myself I burden you with through my music, and I promise you, I will be more careful in the future. I have no right to force my feelings on you, even in the shape of the most beautiful music I've ever made.'

But, he has it all wrong! She wasn't just trying to comfort him, that was a profound moment to her, the awakening of her best feelings. He has to know, she cannot leave tomorrow with him thinking she was merely trying to make up for his depressed state.

'Eric, that wasn't just empathy. Your music woke something inside me, and it's been stirring ever since. It's not totally aware yet, it's still taking measure of its surroundings, feeling its way in the dark carefully before it finally shows itself.'

He understands what she is saying, but he cannot believe it.

'What I did to you, Eric, was the result of that spark bursting into life, I hadn't felt that before and the strength of it overcame me for a few moments. But it hasn't extinguished since, it's making itself felt every time I am in your presence.

Since it is so new, I will keep it in check, and give myself time to adjust to its stirrings before I act on them.

But I very much want to get to know the real you, for you were right, I did think you were a taskmaster and though I liked you as a teacher, I looked up to you too much to really want to know you as a person. Today has changed that, but I need to know you even better, and for you to know me better.

I want to be with you, though it presents new challenges because of that thing stirring inside me, wanting to repeat this afternoon again and again. If you have one of those things pushing you to act as it tells you, I admire you even more than I already did, for I see nothing of it.

Well, now you know. Please have patience with me, I'm still so very young, and I've been raised to expect a certain life after my childhood. Like being married to a wealthy man and play piano for him and raise his children. If I am to change my future, I need time to come to terms with that, same as you do moving to this house, facing uncertainty about your continuing development as a pianist, and your future as a composer.'

She can even look at him as she says this, it's not exactly a declaration of love, more of the possibility of love. He is still moved almost to tears.

'Georgiana, you give me hope. Let's stick with that for now, get to know one another and have fun together. And learn a lot together, about life.

And yes, I have one of those things, too, it's very insistent. But if you keep it in check tightly, as you rule your piano when you play, it will get easier, I promise.

And I promise not to play such things for you as will make it stronger and more insistent, until you ask me to.'

Seeing her disappointment, he shakes his head, 'It cannot be, Georgiana, I dare not risk spoiling this, too much is riding on it for me. You're only at the brink, but I'm in over my head, if I have to face the possibility of the dreams I have worked towards since my childhood coming to nothing, I would at least want to dream another beautiful dream.

Let's turn in quickly, mine is now urging me to acknowledge how much you've changed in the short time we've know each other, and how beautiful and mature you have become. I cannot let it win, for it would ruin everything, now more than ever.

Do you agree to tackle that sonata tomorrow, so you can work on it until your return to London? It'll keep your mind and your hands busy, and stun your rivals.'

'Let's do that, Eric. Good night!'

'Good night, Georgiana!'

He nearly runs off, but now she knows why, it doesn't matter. Life is beautiful, so much to learn, and so many possibilities to explore. Dare she confide in Elizabeth, or will that be an unfair confidence to put upon her sister?

Is is really necessary to keep these things from Fitzwilliam? Hasn't he virtually given her permission to fall in love with Eric by treating him as a visiting gentleman, and by allowing the two of them to be alone together?

There is so much to think of, how will she ever find sleep tonight?

But after the excitement and the events of the day, of course she is asleep almost before her head touches her pillow.

Darcy expects to lie awake for at least an hour, but apparently the day has taken more out of him than he expects. It is lonely, being in a bed all by himself, but he can feel his eyes become heavy, and soon he is fast asleep as well.

The next morning he does wake early, and since there is no use in staying in bed all by himself, he gets up and dresses, eager for this day to move on so he can go back to his beloved.

As he moves downstairs to read the paper until the others are ready for breakfast, he is amazed to hear the piano. At this hour already? And he thought Georgie was single-minded, but Mr Fielding really beats all, if that's what is needed for true excellence, Georgiana can only learn a lot from his presence in their household.

But one doesn't live in one house with a pianist for years and not learn their style, and this sounds like Georgie playing, though it's the sonata Mr Fielding introduced him to yesterday. They're already working!

As if to prove it, the music stops, then starts again, the same bit as before. It's really not bad at all, Georgie is still improving so much.

And indeed he finds his sister and his guest together at the piano, they do make a good couple, both tall and beautiful, he is dark, she fair, both are young and obviously completely obsessed with a piece of music.

The paper can wait a few moments, Darcy observes the interaction between the two young people, and is struck by the way they seem to complement each other, Mr Fielding doesn't so much correct Georgie's stance as sit up a little straighter himself and she follows suit. They communicate with body-language rather than words, sensible when making a lot of sound they both need to follow accurately, but somehow also an inevitable consequence of a new intimacy between them, a familiarity they didn't use to have.

As Georgie plays the same sequence for the third time, Darcy hearing improvement each time, incredible since he didn't hear any mistakes in the first place, the fourth time apparently can bear Mr Fielding's approval, for he smiles and adds a subtle accompaniment to what Georgie is playing.

There is no sheet music to that, Darcy is sure, the man is making that up on the spot, and as far as he can hear it's possibly even more complicated than the original, and still both match perfectly.

When the sequence is done, Georgie doesn't stop, apparently she cannot let go of this perfect harmony yet, and she plays until Mr Fielding stops her.

Now he does speak, softly, and Darcy wonders whether they know he's here.

'That was very good, Miss Darcy, if we keep practising together like this you'll soon start catching up on my skills. Shall we have breakfast with Mr Darcy first? And then I'd like to try something, if you don't mind. I'd very much like to test if you can hear my mistakes.

If you do, it would make my own efforts to improve a lot less futile, plus you'd get to slap my fingers.'

Of course Georgie is flattered, who wouldn't be?

'I'd love to be able to help you, Mr Fielding.'

'Thank you so much, Miss Darcy. We'll start with one I know I have but cannot get the better of. But now I can no longer hear the music for the sound of my stomach rumbling.'

During breakfast, Georgie wants to know, 'Did you sleep well, Fitzwilliam? Or did you lie awake half the night yearning for Elizabeth?'

'I'm ashamed to admit I fell asleep straight away. Please don't tell her, she'll think I don't love her enough.'

'As if anyone would ever believe that. Whenever you think of her your expression changes. I love seeing you so happy, Fitzwilliam.

Tonight you'll have her in your arms again.'

'And you, Mr Fielding,' he asks their guest, a bit embarrassed to have Georgie tease him with his infatuation before a virtual stranger, 'did we manage to lay your doubts to rest a little bit, to enable you to sleep well?'

That actually startles the young man, and he colours a little as he replies, 'You certainly did give me some hope for the future, both of you, to have such in faith in me.

But somehow that kept me awake a long time, imagining what such a future might be like. Having said that, I must admit it was a pleasant kind of lying awake, more like savouring the moment than a lack of rest.'

And he truly means it, his ambition is back full swing, he's looking positively glad. Good.

After breakfast, Darcy allows himself half an hour to watch his sister and Mr Fielding pick up a new challenge. As Georgiana plays that sonata again, Mr Fielding rummages in a large leather case filled with papers, taking a few sheets of music out with great purpose, he obviously has them well-sorted.

He sits next to Georgiana, who stops playing instantly, then exchanges the music sheets.

'I thought I'd play this, will you do me the honour of listening, not to enjoy, but to find fault. I'll play it once in its entirety, then again, and the second time I want you to stop me if you hear something amiss.

Then I'll tell you what bothers me, and you can nudge me every time I do that, so I become aware of it. And then I'll hope you will start to recognise that mistake and nudge me in everything I play for a few days. As I did for you with all of your little habits so far.

Let me just start.'

And before Georgie can give him an answer, he plays a sequence of about a minute, very intricate and not at all as feeling as his own work. That is probably to make it easier on Georgie, it would be impossible to find fault in those compositions, they have too much impact on the mind.

From where he is sitting, Darcy can see his sister watching and listening intently, and when Mr Fielding is done, she asks, 'Were you by any chance born left-handed?'

He looks more than a little impressed, then smiles broadly.

'I was, I was taught to write right-handed at public school, mercilessly I might say. You found my fatal flaw, Miss Darcy, my left little finger is a fraction weaker and slower than it should be. When I concentrate, I can make it keep up, but as soon as my attention goes to other difficulties it falls behind again.

Can you keep me alert? I hope that I can make it a habit that way.'

Georgie shakes her head decidedly and contradicts herself.

'Of course I can, but it won't work. You little finger is weaker because you have never trained it properly. I'm right-handed, and I need to exercise my left hand constantly or it will weaken altogether. Because you are left-handed naturally but using your right you probably never had that problem, your hands have developed similarly. You probably use left for as many things as right, am I correct?'

'That is true, I do as many things left-handed as I do right. And I've never had to exercise one hand more than the other, no.'

'But how can it be that your master in Prague never corrected this?'

'I suppose it only surfaces in these technical pieces, we studied a different form of music. Also, I concentrated really hard whenever I played for him, I can make it obey me, but I hoped to get rid of the problem altogether.

Where did you learn those exercises?'

'My first teacher showed me, he had arthritis and his fingers needed time to warm up for him to be able to play, and he thought that since I was a little girl with little hands I might benefit, too. I've used them ever since.

Here, let me show you.'

And Georgie shows him some rhythmic movement of her hand which he emulates, and this time it's her turn to gently take his hand and show him exactly how it's done.

Darcy cannot resist this opportunity to check what her touch does to Mr Fielding, and his ladies are right, the young man relishes Georgie holding his hand in her own.

But he can also see that Mr Fielding really wants to learn this, while his feelings probably make it more difficult to understand what she is trying to explain, he makes a serious effort to imitate the exercise, and two more involving the lower arm and the hand, and when Georgie is satisfied with his efforts, he can't wait to try the effect.

Of course Darcy cannot hear any difference, but Georgie doesn't nudge Mr Fielding even once. Either he's doing better, or she doesn't see the use in poking him.

'That was better, not perfect, but it felt different already. I'm going to do those exercises every day, and when you return from Hertfordshire maybe you'll hear the difference already. Thank you so much, Miss Darcy!'

'Thank you, Mr Fielding, for spending so much time on me. I'm glad I can return the favour. I wish I could stay to practise all day, but I suppose that would be unforgivably rude towards our friends and relatives.'

They will wear that piano down together, that much is clear. But Georgie wants nothing more than to play, and with Mr Fielding it is obviously much more fun. And he's very correct towards her, he doesn't show any sign of affection at all, just normal friendship and a lot of goodwill.

Of course they continue with the sonata, if Georgie wants to have something to practise for four days, they'll have to go through all of it. Time for the paper, or maybe even a visit to the library to get a book.

But before Darcy can leave the room, Mrs Annesley enters and announces, 'The piano has arrived, Mr Darcy.'

They all get up and file out, eager to see how Mr Fielding's large piano will be taken inside and up the stairs.

And the solution isn't genius, it's all a matter of effort and plenty of men.

The owner of the company is carrying the broad stool, as four squarely built men lift the large piano inside. He then leaves the stool in the hall for a few moments and directs the men up the stairs, as the three of them follow, Mr Fielding carrying his own stool.

As Darcy calls out the directions to Mr Fielding's room, he is surprised how efficiently this all goes, and in half an hour the piano is safely resting on its own feet, on the spot Mr Fielding has chosen for it.

As the men file out, the owner of the company asks, 'Shall I send over the tuner this afternoon, Mr Darcy?'

'Thank you Mr Roofer, that will not be needed, Mr Fielding here tunes his own instruments.'

'Mr Eric Fielding?'

'Yes, that's him. Have you heard of him?'

'I've never met him myself, but I've heard he's very talented. Actually, I heard just yesterday from one of my best customers that his patron dismissed him. Said Mr Fielding probably had enough of being fettered to Mr Zumpe's pet projects. About time, he added. You may have guessed by now he doesn't like Mr Zumpe much.

Actually, Mr Zumpe is his most important competitor, and he does sell quite a lot of those modern piano's.

My customer will be glad to hear Mr Fielding is not in the poorhouse or back to his parents. I should really attend one of his concerts, it's my job to know all the major pianists in town.'

'In that case, Mr Roofer, maybe I should introduce you two?'

Darcy finds a certain humour in the situation, and apparently Mr Fielding does, too. Mr Roofer may be nothing more than a piano-mover, but he knows everyone who matters in the business, so it cannot hurt for him to actually know who Mr Eric Fielding is.

'You mean, that gentleman over there is actually Mr Fielding? I had heard he was born a cowherd, I suppose I expected him...'

'To look like one? I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mr Roofer, but that young gentleman over there is indeed Mr Fielding himself.'

They shake hands, and Mr Fielding says politely, 'Thank you for handling my piano with care, Mr Roofer.'

'My pleasure, Mr Fielding, it will need a thorough tuning though, with the weather being as cold as this, and all the cobbles between the two houses.

I've heard good things of you, Mr Fielding, and I'm sorry you got into trouble with your patron. Though Mr Darcy has an excellent taste in piano's, he had me deliver a Clementi all the way to Derbyshire to his beautiful estate.'

'I am very thankful to Mr Darcy for saving me from the streets, Mr Roofer, I don't know what would have become of me if he hadn't. I truly hope to meet you in an audience one day and prove my skills to you, though I don't know when I will be playing in public again. Once again, thank you very much.'

Mr Roofer bows in acknowledgement, his constant association with the gentry has given him excellent manners, and he follows Darcy to Mrs Annesley for his pay, leaving Georgiana and Eric behind.

Eric sits down on the broad stool and plays a scale. It's indeed horrible, the instrument needs to be entirely retuned before he can play anything. It will take hours.

'I'm glad word is out that I was dismissed, I would have hated it if anyone thought I'd traded houses to better myself.'

Of course Eric is a bit affected by all this, tuning his piano will settle him quickly enough.

'Do you have your tuning materials at hand?' she asks gaily, hoping to cheer him up.

'I have, but I'm not going to tune her yet. I can do that when you are on your way back to Hertfordshire, I'll have days to bring her to the utmost perfection. Now, I'm going to rush you through that sonata, and when you get back we'll play it together in its entirety. Will you come with me?'

He offers her a hand instinctively, and she takes it just as spontaneously.

The physical touch gives both of them a shock, it was so natural, how are they going to keep from doing this in front of a witness?

This morning was a close call, Georgiana hadn't even noticed Fitzwilliam coming in until Eric called her Miss Darcy.

Her hand is squeezed just the tiniest bit.

'We'll manage, Georgiana, we will. Let's just take it easy, and enjoy our time together, and hope everything will work out in the end. Once the house is filled with people, we'll become a lot more careful.

Come, let's make the most of the time we have left to study.'

And he leads her by the hand until they leave the room. Then he reluctantly releases her hand and turns towards the drawing-room, to play together until Georgiana has to leave.


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter 52

And when she and her brother are gone from the house just after lunch, back to their friends for another four days, Eric quickly retreats to his own apartment to tune his piano and give his thoughts and feelings free rein.

Suddenly his smouldering infatuation has turned into something a lot more serious. If Georgiana indeed finds love for him in her heart, he may be in deep trouble. It would be the most ironic thing ever if he were kicked out of Mr Darcy's house for loving his sister, when he was dismissed by Mr Zumpe for not loving his daughter.

The worst thing is, that though Eric has been raised a gentleman and displays better manners than even his former patron, who will stay a businessman and middle-class for his entire life, Eric has no idea what the gentry are like.

Mr Darcy is very understanding, very magnanimous and very likeable, but Eric is very much aware that he may as well be different species of human from his new protector, Eric may dress like a gentleman, talk like them and be liked by them, he will never be one of them. A huge gap yawns between the gentry and normal people, and he is stuck somewhere in between.

Mr Zumpe has servants, but they are different somehow, the servants in this house seem to be more than just employees, they seem to be partly defined by their serving a noble family, there is a certain humility about them that his former patron's servants lack. They're just working a job, it's as if these servants adhere to a certain way of life, as if the magnificence of their masters reflects on them.

What will happen if Georgiana does indeed fall in love with him? Eric is sure they could be almost deliriously happy together, their mutual love of music, their boundless ability to immerse themselves in their study of a certain sequence of a composition. But Georgiana is not a typical high-born lady, she doesn't care at all about clothes and jewellery, she even wants to learn how to run a household, she is not stuck on being a lady among ladies.

The coming Christmas party will prove or disprove his hopes, he will see her among her own class, and how she treats the servants, it is so important he doesn't lose himself in expectations of their being together before he knows a lot more about what to expect, of her, and especially her brother.

Would Mr Darcy accept his sister making a match with a man of low birth, with no fortune and even without skills to make a living? Dependent on his own charity? Full of ambitions but with no true proof he will ever realise them?

Eric cannot answer his own question with anything else but a decided 'no.'

Of course he wouldn't.

If Georgiana falls in love with him, she'll only get hurt.

Unless, maybe, Eric can prove to Mr Darcy he can take care of her? Build up an income of his own? But why would he want his sister to live as a normal woman when she could marry a gentleman and live as her mother did, and her mother before that?

Georgiana has a fortune, apparently quite a large one, his patron used to joke about that when Eric started to teach her, though he didn't know how large exactly. She must be very sought after among her own class, and of course Mr Darcy wants his sister to marry a gentleman with good prospects, not someone with a lot of talent but no means to develop it, who acts the gentleman to perfection but cannot even ride or shoot a rifle.

By now, Eric has dragged himself down to a whole new depth, when just last night he laid awake with pure joy, and while this does not hinder his progress tuning his beloved piano, it is not a very comfortable state to be in. And he cannot even soothe his feelings with some music, for his poor piano is not finished by far.

But wallowing in depression will not get him anywhere, that is the only certainty he has. It behooves him to use the chance he has been given, and put his love for Georgiana somewhere safe and secret, and dust off his ambitions and work towards a goal. There are plenty of opportunities, he has but to choose one and work hard towards it, as he has ever done.

And has he ever failed to reach a goal he set for himself? Certainly not!

Lack of money has always held him back, but he is now at an age that he needs to take any opportunity that presents itself. Which means that he may have to let go of his childish dream to become the best pianist ever, and concentrate his efforts on making a name for himself in London and the rest of England, and yes, maybe, expose his own compositions to the harsh outside world.

The people around him seem to really appreciate them, love them actually, so maybe he has to find the courage to bare his innermost feelings to others, though that means risking having them defaced by anyone with an opinion and a means to spread it.

Will he dare do that?

Occupied as he is by his thoughts, Eric never notices the time until the bell rings for dinner. It rings for his sole benefit, for only Mrs Annesley and the cook are in, the maid goes home for dinner when the family is away. He'd better change and go to the common room in the servants' part of the house, it's not a good idea to dine by himself as a gentleman would, he must not be by alone in his current mood, and anyway, he can learn a lot about his benefactor from his servants.

The tuning is as good as finished, his shoulders, wrists and fingers hurt with the effort, but after dinner he will do the rest of the fine-tuning, and then he will write down the music he played to Georgiana yesterday. That will not help fulfil his promise to himself, not to let his love for her overcome his good sense and prospects for his future, but it's something he can't not do, if he doesn't write it down, the music will keep singing through his head, plaguing him night and day until he faces it. Better do that when there is no-one around to witness the mood it will undoubtedly trigger.

Dressed suitably for dinner at a gentleman's house, he descends the beautifully worked stairs, this is such a magnificent house, Mr Darcy has such taste in decoration, until he meets Mrs Annesley in the hall.

'Will you be dining alone, sir?' she asks.

Just incredible! As if she doesn't remember him standing on the front porch, nearly bewildered with his patron's rage and rejection, reluctant to beg for mercy but unable to think of something else to do. She actually put an arm on his shoulder and comforted him as if he was her adult son. And now she calls him sir?

'Mrs Annesley, I'm not a sir, I'm just Eric! May I please sit with the two of you? I'll feel totally forlorn by myself.'

'I'm sorry, Eric, you're dressed for the dining-room, Mr Darcy told me you were to be treated as a visiting gentleman, so I guess I thought you had similar instructions, though he did tell me you could sit with us as long as the family were away, of course you are welcome to join us.

I commend you for adapting as far as the clothing, good thinking, and we'll welcome your addition to our tête-à-tête, Cook and I respect one another, but it's always great fun to have someone else to talk to.

Are you pleased with the master's reception?'

Mrs Annesley glosses over her little slip of the tongue, betraying she doesn't really like the cook, and small wonder, she's as good as a lady herself, she must have very little in common with the fanatical chef, who lives and breathes food whereas Mrs Annesley can almost be called ascetic, she's so lean and seems to have so few vices.

'Very pleased, Mrs Annesley, I knew he was very nice, but he showed me much more respect than I deserve. Which is why I am practising my habits and manners, not to let him down in front of his guests.'

'You could never let the master down, Eric, you have a kind of natural delicacy that will make an impression on even the most spoiled noble. And none of those will be attending, this party will be very good friends only, and the master's new in-laws, but from what I have understood the most discerning member of the master's new family is someone you've already met, Mr Bennet. He has a reputation for being sarcastic, but I haven't seen any of it. It will be interesting to see him with his wife.'

That is very familiar talk, and Eric feels himself relax as he follows Mrs Annesley to the common-room, remembering how Mrs Annesley and Mrs Darcy's father seemed to have a very agreeable time together.

'Thank you, Mrs Annesley, once again you've managed to make me feel much better. I don't know the rules in this house, but should you fancy some entertainment, I have my own piano in my apartment in near perfect tune, if Cook and yourself would like me to play the piano for you, it would be my pleasure.'

'We usually sit in our own rooms, or in the common-room, of course we don't just go in the house, we cannot join you in the drawing-room, but in your own private rooms is all right, Eric, if Cook feels like attending a concert I'd love to hear you play again. Would you mind if I bring my work? My hands are so used to being busy, they cannot stay still for any length of time.'

Eric can't help smiling at that.

'I have much the same thing, Mrs Annesley, unfortunately, my preferred occupation makes a lot of noise.'

'But it pleases many, Eric, whereas my work is only accessible to the very rich. With your art, you can reach out to everyone, and I for one am convinced you will. Mr Darcy will help you to let even the lowest labourer enjoy your music, and you will be very famous. Fame will not even spoil you, I'm sure, it will merely give you the independence you deserve, and the chance to marry a girl of your own choosing, who fits your own character much better than Miss Zumpe, an intelligent, ambitious girl who will nonetheless support your career.'

Nearly overcome with guilt just after his arrival, Eric told the sympathetic housekeeper about Louise, and apparently she doesn't blame him for refusing to marry a girl without aim in her life.

'Thank you so much for your confidence, Mrs Annesley, it is really heartening. And of course you are welcome to work through any concert of mine, be it the Hofburg in Vienna or St Peter's Cathedral in Rome.'

'Do you know German, Eric?'

'I certainly do, Mrs Annesley, I lived in Prague for six months, my master there spoke no English.'

'You seem to have a perfect pronunciation, maybe we can talk German some time this week?'

'It will be my pleasure, Mrs Annesley.'

Her kindness, and his new status as gentleman guest give Eric some courage, and once they all sit down at a long table, clearly meant for many more than their mere three, he asks, 'Why is that everyone calls you Cook? Don't you have a name of your own?'

Half afraid to have insulted the rather severe looking man, Eric is relieved to find him smiling as he replies, 'I suppose it is a sort of title, to prove a slightly higher status among the staff, just as everyone calls Mrs Annesley a missus, even if she had been twenty years old or an old maid. It comes with the responsibility.

We have a certain authority to resolve minor disputes, and to make autonomous decisions on daily matters.

But in my case, I don't like my own name either. It's Bartholomew, and don't let me or anyone else catch you calling me that, or Bart, or Black Bart, which cured me of my own name forever. For your information, I used to have inky black locks as beautiful as yours.

I was teased mercilessly in my youth, because of my name, and those locks, and though you outrank me, I won't hesitate to cause a stir taking a spoon to you if you rake up my old frustrations.'

Despite the seriousness of that threat, Cook delivers them with a playful laugh, which makes him a lot more human and likeable suddenly.

'I'm glad you cleared that up for me, Cook, and I promise you faithfully I will never call you any of that, neither to your face, nor behind your back. Cook is good enough for me. Though I find it rather hard to imagine you with long black hair, and anyone daring to tease you. But I suppose you were a lot smaller then.'

'I was as skinny as you, I'll have you know. My wife keeps my hair short now, it's receded more than a little these last years. Besides, in a kitchen short hair is a requirement, can't have my best dishes seasoned with human hairs, after all.'

With a little more banter they liven up the meal, and after dinner Eric even helps washing up, someone has to do it after all when all the maids and kitchen-aids are off work.

Cook has accepted his invitation to enjoy a little music, and Eric uses another hour to fine-tune his instrument, postponing his hour writing down the music in his mind gladly for the prospect of some company.

A knock on the door announces his guests, as he opens up, Mrs Annesley comes in lugging her work, and Cook holds a tray with a pot of steaming hot tea and a plate with what looks like freshly baked cookies.

They drink tea first, the cookies may easily be the best Eric has ever tasted, very rich and with real pieces of chocolate baked into them.

Mrs Annesley soon sets up her work, a collapsible table supporting a rather unwieldy frame, which she manoeuvres into a workable position with great routine. Of course she has a bag with threads along and several kinds of needles. Within minutes, she is hard at work, and Eric admires what she has finished so far.

It is truly incredible, more like a painting than embroidery, he can discern the branches of a tree, covered in individual leaves as if in high summer. The trunk of the tree shows bark and scarring where branches have been removed over the years, and beside it, a horse is taking shape.

At least it looks like a horse, there is a flowing black tail visible and the start of a horse's buttocks and hocks in deep brown.

But now it's time for his own art, and Eric sits in front of his familiar instrument and tests the full reach of it with his favourite scales. Music fills the room, though not ideal, the acoustics of this relatively small and heavily furnished apartment are better than he expected, giving a certain intimate atmosphere.

To warm up, he uses a few traditional pieces, not too difficult and very accessible to anyone who likes music.

Then the sonata he has been practising with Georgiana, it's child's play to him though it is generally seen as forbiddingly difficult. Georgiana doesn't have much trouble with it either, she is coming on so fast.

Looking at his tiny audience, he can see Mrs Annesley truly likes this intricate piece of music, but Cook preferred the less convoluted traditionals. Frankly, Eric finds them over the top, too, they're so artificial, music should be instinctive, bursting forth from the very soul as feelings do.

Time for the ultimate test.

Seeing Cook as a kind of representative of the common people, Eric starts his own composition, the older one, the original version.

And to his relief, this seems to affect even the stolid man, he sits immobilised, totally mesmerized by the journey through the Canal and over the North Sea to Germany, then across Germany.

And still he doesn't show signs of boredom, this is going well.

Eric allows himself to become totally involved in his own creation, he lets himself be taken along through those rough mountains again, reliving his travels in his own composition.

And for good measure he adds the start of his London work, his budding love for Georgiana captured in music, a poignant reminder to himself how much it has grown. He'll put the rest in writing when his guests have left, Mr Darcy has assured him he can play as late as he likes, the heavy furnishings in the house prevent the sound from carrying very far, and there are at least two rooms empty on each side of his apartment.

That's enough for now, his fingers have been strained by the tuning, and there is at least an hour of playing in store for him tonight. Better try those exercises Georgiana showed him.

The touch of her small hand on his, she is so fearless and so innocent. There was nothing coy in that touch, just a sincere wish to help him conquer a tiny glitch he has struggled with for years.

He finishes with a flourish, trying not to remember the moment she stroked his hair and kissed him, trying to not recall her indignant observation that pity didn't motivate her impulsive action, but the stirring of some new feeling inside her, a feeling Eric both hopes and fears is a budding love for him.

As he faces his guests in a desperate attempt not to simper about his love, suddenly come a lot closer but still unattainable, he can see they are both impressed. Mrs Annesley knew what to expect, of course, but Cook is stunned.

'Now I know why the master wants you to dine with him, Mr Fielding. I've never heard anything like this, I just cannot believe mere music can make an adult man feel this way. This is going to be big, you are going to be very sought after. Everyone I know will love this, they'll want to hear you play it. I wish I could take it home with me, to let my wife hear it. Thank you so much.'

What happened to their bantering? Suddenly he's Mr Fielding, and not Eric anymore? He used to banter with his patron's servants all the time, things certainly are different here. But it's their world, and it's his job to fit in.

'My pleasure, Cook. Can I still join you in the kitchen for meals? Until the family returns?'

Cook doesn't get it, servility has probably been ingrained in him from the start of his working life, but Mrs Annesley does, and she soothes Eric once again.

'Of course you may, Eric, Mr Darcy said you could, and we'll be pleased to have you. From now on there will be more folk about, though, we've rooms to prepare and a feast to store up for. Besides planning our own little Christmas party in the common-room, Mr Darcy never lets his staff do without a special treat on the holidays.'

Soon after this conversation, his guests leave, Cook still not back to informality, but Eric has no space in his mind to worry about that, the music is fast taking over, this needs to be done straight away.

Rummaging in his leather case to find music paper and a pencil, he is soon sitting at the keyboard. He clears his mind and surrenders to the flow of his feelings.


	43. Chapter 43

After a difficult parting, for Georgiana at least, Fitzwilliam probably can't wait to leave London and be en route back to Hertfordshire, they make good time on a road mostly cleared of snow by now. At least in the city, the heavy traffic reduces it to a soggy, filthy mud, which is shovelled to the side by men hired to keep the roads safe.

Outside town the traffic thins, and the snow is still as pristine as when it first fell.

Bob must be eager to return as well, for he really keeps the solid mares working, of course slowing down over bridges and through drifts, but eating the miles nonetheless.

'You're even more quiet than usual, Georgie. I hope you don't mind Mr Fielding coming to live with us, there wasn't much else we could do you know.'

Georgiana immediately retorts, afraid to be found out or to spill her heart's contents to him.

'You haven't been much livelier, Fitzwilliam. My head is stuffed full of music, I was working some things out, sometimes that's good to do without instrument.

And to answer your question, no, I don't mind Mr Fielding moving in. The very thought of that nice, sensitive man on the streets makes me sick even now the danger has been averted.'

Her brother nods, he doesn't understand either. But Georgiana is not done talking, yet.

'His situation does make me quiet, how he must feel right now, at another rich man's mercy. Such genius, reduced to a pawn of people who haven't a clue of its worth.

No offence intended, Fitzwilliam, you did the right thing after all.

And yes, there is a certain challenge involved in finding one's teacher whom one admired, to be a human being with feelings, and those sadly stirred. I won't hesitate to admit I had real trouble keeping myself from comforting him as I did you when you were suffering so badly.'

He offers to hold her, her dear sweet brother! It's so good to have a big, solid brother to sit against when so many feelings strive to be felt inside her. Resting her head against his broad chest, his voice is lower and it kind of rumbles.

'I can imagine you did, Georgie. He did nothing to deserve that, it's always difficult to see someone suffer from circumstances beyond his control.

But I assure you he will feel much better soon. I intend to really do well by him, I thought to help him develop his musical skills further, but seeing him in such dire straits I am inclined to think maybe we'd better help him gain independence. If he can make his own way in life, he need never be at a rich man's mercy again.'

He looks her straight in the eye now, rather intently.

'What do you think? Try to gain him fame at the cost of staying dependent on me, or to help him take charge of his own life? Possibly at the cost of world-wide fame?'

Georgiana of course no longer operates on a single agenda where Eric is concerned. She doesn't want him to go to Europe, she wants him with her. But she also truly, unselfishly wants him to develop as a composer, more so than as a performer.

Looking right back at her brother, she says, 'I'm not the right person to ask, Fitzwilliam, of course I want my teacher close, especially since I found out he's a very nice person as well as a great teacher. I have learned so much in those hours we spent together, my head is still spinning.

And I'm so incredibly impressed by his composing, I really cannot imagine why he would be blinded by a wish of being a performer of other people's music when he makes such fabulous compositions himself.'

Her brother smiles ingratiatingly, he's made up his mind already, and Georgie has contributed though she said she didn't want to.

'Then it's independence. To become known as a composer he can stay in London or come with us to Pemberley as easily as travel all over the world. Of course he can find himself a master somewhere in Europe to improve his performance whenever he needs it to progress, but that could be done in months, it's building a career as performer that takes the real effort, staying abroad for years on end, travelling from venue to venue, promoting himself by competing against others, that is what his patron couldn't afford.

You'll have your teacher with you for some time yet, Georgie, don't worry.'

She will not worry. Even though having him around is worrying, too.

Snuggled against Fitzwilliam, his arms around her, it's easier to face the idea of being in love for the first time.

And with a cow-herd's son.

Who has the most incredible gift Georgiana has ever seen, but nonetheless he is a man of very low birth. Not that anyone would see, if anyone ever could ever see past his personal beauty and his talent, they would still see an elegantly built, sensitive man with the gentle manners of her own class.

This is the perfect way to go mad in a very short time. She will enjoy her brother's embrace, chat about nothing meaningful at all, then try to be herself a little more and consider whether she'll take Elizabeth into her confidence.

And she'll practise that sonata, until she can play it as well as he can, and he'll add that second melody. Anyone hearing that will just die.

After lunch, Fitzwilliam is starting to get agitated, he's so eager to be reunited with his beloved he can hardly bear the waiting anymore. Will they run off to their room immediately, and will Elizabeth call him Mr Darcy again in that bossy tone?

Will Georgiana ever call anyone by his family name in that bossy tone? Probably not, this has something to do with the past, with Fitzwilliam looking down on Miss Elizabeth, and Miss Elizabeth hating him for it. As if he's proving over and over again he actually adores her.

No, that cannot be it. And it's still so very embarrassing to remember the tone of his voice as he replied, how he pleaded her. Though Georgiana is convinced Elizabeth is merely indulging him, she's not really that bossy.

'We're nearly there,' he says, 'do you think she's missed me?'

What kind of question is that?

'Of course she's missed you. We've had all kinds of exciting things happen, she's been stuck here with people she has seen all week and will see half the next week. She'll be dying to get her hands on you.

And call you Mr Darcy.'

Ooh, why did she have to stick that on? Now they'll both be embarrassed all over again.

And her brother certainly seems to colour slightly.

'I'm sorry you had to witness that, Georgie. I can imagine it must have been very embarrassing to you, even more so than it was to me. Afterwards, at that moment I didn't feel it, yet.

I still don't know why I didn't just control myself, I'd said it before I truly realised what it would do to you.'

'I think I'm starting to get the idea behind it, slowly. It must be I'm finally growing up. It is nonetheless a very embarrassing memory.

But Fitzwilliam, I'm so very glad you found someone you could be truly happy with, you were alone so very long, and I wanted you to find someone so badly. And I like Elizabeth so much. You know I knew straight away when I first saw her that I wanted her to become my sister.'

'It's been one of my greatest joys, Georgie, seeing the two of you get along, being friends, even.

Elizabeth will be stunned to hear that Mr Fielding is in our house at this very moment. She admires his talent as much as you do. That reminds me, I did see some admiration for you in him, finally. I knew he admired you, for you both told me he did so it must be true, but I didn't see anything of it.

Then this morning when you touched his hand to show him the exercise to strengthen his little finger, he gave himself away for a fleeting moment. He must feel very bad about that, it cannot be easy to be in love with someone so much above you, and a girl with a much older brother at that.'

Georgiana really has to control herself to not betray her feelings at hearing Fitzwilliam speak so casually about Eric loving his sister, but she thinks she manages really well. Her brother seems pensive rather than annoyed.

'It is strange, though, that it should be such a bad thing for a man to fall in love above him, when it is regarded as common sense in a woman. It never mattered to Elizabeth, well, for a mere few days just after we were married, she started to realise I owned everything, the fortune, the house, the other house, well, you get the picture.

If Kitty marries Mr Lascelles no-one will think twice about it.'

Perfect moment to do some digging.

'But Kitty's father is a gentleman with property, Fitzwilliam, doesn't that make a difference?'

'In theory it does, but she has no fortune, and Mr Bennet is only a very minor land-owner, I certainly regarded marrying Elizabeth as a big step down. It was her extraordinary mind, her gift of intelligence that finally made our marriage inevitable. To me, that is. I still had to convince her, well, you know all about that.'

Is there some hope she will be allowed to marry Eric? If she does return his affection, if she still wants to be with him and touch him when he is no longer to be pitied for being treated unfairly?

When he is independent?

Thinking of him, remembering the feeling that stirred inside her, the resulting urge to kiss him, she no longer feels shame, just a strong wish to do it again. So far, she guesses she is indeed falling in love.

Her thoughtfulness does something with Fitzwilliam.

'I can imagine you find it unfair that I can marry far below me and only aunt Catherine flies in a rage. And you will be expected to make a good match with a man like Mr Manners, or, God forbid, like Mr Grenfell.

But I'm no longer like that, Georgie. Getting to know Mr Fielding has made me realise being a gentleman is not always a question of birth. And Grenfell's deed has only confirmed that realisation, clearly, being born a gentleman doesn't automatically make a man one.

If you find a true gentleman you can love, a man like Manners, though he turned out to be different from what he seemed as well, I'll be very happy, but if you don't, I'm not going to force you to marry a Grenfell. Or even a Ponsonby, who is good-natured enough, but not nearly good enough for you.

I want you to be safe, and I want you to be happy.'

And in a flash his mood changes to something like embarrassment.

'Oh, Georgie, I'm afraid I will behave very indecently when I see Elizabeth again. I'm aching to touch her, and when I touch her I'll ache to kiss her. And that's it, I can control myself beyond that, but I'm afraid I just have to kiss her. Will you cover for me, if anyone else is waiting for us?'

'That is just so cute, Fitzwilliam! Of course I will distract anyone present, except the servants, but they're gossiping about the two of you anyway. You go kiss your adored wife, just don't fall at her feet in public. It would make a right scandal, do you have any idea how the servants would love to spread that juicy titbit of intimate knowledge?

Every washing-woman in London would hear of it within a week of Violet Ragwort's return.'

'Georgie, I love you. Since you met Elizabeth, nay, even before that, you've been so cheeky and funny, I'm so glad you are my baby-sister.

I promise you I will not fall at Elizabeth's feet before anyone, not even a servant, nor will I beg her to allow me to attend a party, and I'm sure she will not boss me around. She may call me Mr Darcy in public, but only if I deserve it. Or where I can't hear it.

We're here now, I'm glad we talked after all, I hope I didn't ruin the music in your head. If I did, you'll have every chance to put it back next week, I'll let you have your lessons in Mr Fielding's room, it will cause a scandal no doubt, but I trust him not to ravish you, and you'll need the peace and quiet with a house full of guests.'

Shaming her brother into letting her be with Eric unchaperoned, Georgiana should be ashamed of herself. But she isn't.

He is right, she has the right to marry beneath her as much as he had, and Eric would never touch her indecently, not even if she begged him to do it. Or ordered him.

Mr Darcy.

Darcy is very happy to find only Jane and Elizabeth waiting for them in the large Netherfield hall. As they have their coats taken by the butler, Georgie quickly kisses Elizabeth, leaving Darcy to greet Jane, which he doesn't quite get, but readily and heartily does.

But when Georgie winks at her sister-in-law, then moves towards Jane to kiss her as well, Darcy suddenly understands. By greeting Elizabeth first, forcing her brother to greet Jane first, she enables him some time alone with Elizabeth.

His beloved is indeed as happy to see him as he is to see her, he feels almost shy after just one night's separation, but she doesn't suffer from such insecurities, she falls on his neck with a little cry of feeling.

'I've missed you so much, my love, I'm so glad to have you in my arms again!'

She doesn't say much more than that, for by now he has lifted her and they are kissing ardently, and very indecently. But the butler has left, and Georgie has taken Jane to the drawing-room.

He wishes he could run straight up the stairs to their bedroom, but that wouldn't be right, would it?

'Jane expects us to retire to dress for dinner, love, and Simon and Fanny know better than to disturb us. Haven't seen much of Simon these two days, anyway, of course there was no real reason for him to turn up with you gone.

You're so quiet, everything was fine in London I hope?'

One would expect her to know by now that for him, strong feelings are savoured much better in silence. Never mind, he'll just kiss her again.

'May I carry you upstairs? I want to be alone with you. I'll tell you everything that happened in London, it was not really bad, but something did happen. We have a new house guest, a very talented one.'

It's no task at all to carry Elizabeth to the bedroom, though her mood is a bit different suddenly. Of course she wants to know more, but Darcy doesn't mind, he just wants to feel her against him, and kiss her and hold her, he can do that as they talk.

'You mean Mr Fielding got kicked out by his patron?'

And before Darcy can nod or confirm otherwise, 'Oh no, that poor man, he must be devastated. He felt such obligation to his patron, he'll blame himself.'

'I suppose he did, but when we arrived Mrs Annesley had soothed him somewhat already, he had been in our house for two days. I got his piano delivered, and Georgiana spent a lot of time on him. They got on really well together, though she had to get used to having her teacher and idol about.

You were both right, he is in love with her, I caught him relishing her casual touch. But being so much in love myself I cannot really blame him, it just happens, you know, it's not exactly a decision one makes.'

By now they have reached their room, and Elizabeth is listening, but she is also steadily removing some items of clothing from his body, and not without effect, for his excitement is rising fast.

Soon, Mr Fielding's plight is forgotten in their heat, Elizabeth's dress is easily removed, the room is very warm, did she plan this and order it heated well?

Kissing, stroking, the rest of the world disappears, this is so good, the warmth, the scent, the love of another human being, Elizabeth straddles him with some force and rides him eagerly, lust washes over him, waiting for the right moment to take over. As heated as he is, that would mean this ends in seconds, leaving his beloved with all her urges still plaguing her, that would be a bad reunion.

He begs her to sit on his face instead, and indulges himself in her soft intimate parts, until she shudders in release, and then he does let go, picking up her lithe shape and placing her on the bed, pinning her underneath him until she's totally covered with his larger body. Of course she wants him badly, her heat is up, she is offering herself eagerly, and he takes the offer with all the force of his lust, which urges him to plunge into her as hard and as fast as he can.

This is so good, he'd never have thought something so base could be so fulfilling, just rutting like some animal makes him feel so close to his beloved, she's urging him on, her unique mind taken over by heat as much as his own.

Of course this doesn't last long either, but at least Elizabeth shows every sign of satisfaction afterwards. They lie in an intimate embrace, and talk about the last two days. Half an hour, then they have to dress for dinner.

They wash, and put on underwear and dressing-gowns, then ring for their attendants. Can't show up in company without suitable gilding after all.

The next four days pass quietly, Georgiana practises the sonata and tries to get a grip on her feelings, if she truly loved Eric, shouldn't she be pining over him? Instead she is rather relieved to have a few days to think things over.

She is truly enjoying herself with Mr Manners and Kitty as before, except Mr Lascelles is with them as well. They play billiards in pairs, and talk French, and Kitty and herself listen to the two friends telling stories from their time together in college.

Georgiana must confess she is rather shocked at hearing the pranks they've pulled, even Bingley!, but it does help her face Mr Manners' leading role in Mr Grenfell's tribunal. Though he explained their motives to protect their rapist friend from the law, it still did influence the way she saw him.

Now she understands the bond they share a little better, and that his leadership of the clique is not due to dominance on his side, but merely a role he has grown into slowly, by proving himself the most stable character of a group of rather misguided, spoiled high-born youths.

Eventually, a certain longing for Eric does overcome her whenever she is practising. She almost feels him by her side, remembers touching his hand to demonstrate those exercises, and yes, longs to smell his hair and feel the softness of his lips again.

Whereas Kitty and Mr Lascelles are clearly well on their way to falling in love, the other couple, as people might see them, is very comfortable together, and Georgiana knows Mr Manners enjoys himself as much as she does, but they are not in love. Her growing attachment to Eric cannot hurt Mr Manners, Georgiana is sure of that.

He might rue a possible marriage between Georgiana and Mr Fielding as the loss of a profitable business transaction, but it will not break his heart.

And still she doesn't fault him for paying attention to her, somehow he doesn't feel like a mercenary, but if he is not, why does he spend so much time on her? Does he love her after all?Well, even if she underestimates his feelings for her, he knows his affections are not returned, she is not leading him on, they can enjoy themselves together without a bad conscience.

But the situation does confuse Georgiana very much, and she does feel a strong need to talk to someone, before she meets Eric again, and this time in company of someone who is, to all bystanders, courting her.


	44. Chapter 44

Chapter 54

It is not easy to get Elizabeth by herself for an hour or so. Her brother and sister are sticking to each other as if Fitzwilliam's absence has been months instead of a mere day and night. And of course she cannot ask where Fitzwilliam can hear, he'll want to know what it is about, and Georgiana has not enough confidence in him to let him in on her feelings when they are still so unsettled. She can only bide her time and wait for an opportunity to present itself.

Elizabeth and Darcy are indeed very close once again. They ride out each day and talk to their friends, Elizabeth doesn't feel the need to retreat from the company with Jane to talk in private, she prefers to stick with her beloved.

Darcy finds himself watching Manners and Georgie from time to time, comparing them to Georgiana and Mr Fielding together, trying to catch either of them showing some sign of love towards the other, but without the least success.

Georgie frankly seems more at ease with Mr Manners, but somehow that doesn't suggest she likes him better. She admitted to idolising Mr Fielding, sitting very close to one's idol all of a sudden, having him in her own house, must be rather disconcerting. Yet they seemed to understand each other without much spoken conversation, something a shared passion might explain rather well.

And reversely, he knows Mr Fielding loves Georgie, but what does Manners feel?

The man is either a born actor, hiding his better feelings, or he doesn't actually love the woman he seems to be pursuing with the intent to marry her.

Frankly, if he had to describe Manners' behaviour to Georgie, it would be brotherly. He is sure any neutral observer would see the similarities between Darcy interacting with Georgie, and Manners' familiar way of talking to her.

Well, he hasn't declared his love to her, so he's not trying to fool her or anything. And Manners is still excellent company, he will be a pleasant addition to their group at Christmas, a perfect time to study him some more.

Miss Bingley is spreading her attention between all the visiting gentlemen equally, she doesn't seem to have a favourite anymore. Simon explains why, one evening as they are being helped to undress.

'Miss Bingley doesn't know why Mr Grenfell went away so suddenly, she thinks he has urgent business to attend to. She is planning to visit him at his estate, having been invited to spend some weeks there in spring.

Which is why she is merely amusing herself now, not trying to form a real bond with anyone.'

Poor Fanny doesn't understand at all, causing her to be very forward and comment.

'Why doesn't Mr Bingley warn his sister that Mr Grenfell is bad news?'

She is very surprised to have her master answer her question, all other servants show him such deference, she feels a bit caught to have his full attention, but he is rather nice.

'I don't understand myself, Fanny, but Mr Manners and Mr Bingley reason that when he has served their punishment, his offence is forgiven, and he should not be reproached with it anymore.

My opinion is, that any woman who wants to connect her future to him, wants to put her life in his hands, should know what he is capable of. Still, Miss Bingley is not my sister, I have no right to get involved unless she asks me directly.'

The girl nods, apparently there are things that even Mr Darcy has no influence on. Fortunately she doesn't live in this Mr Grenfell's household, and fortunately he will never be welcome in any of Mr Darcy's houses.

As their days pass by quietly in Hertfordshire, in the London house, Eric gets the fright of his life.

Because the number of servants in the house has grown by the day, he is taking his breakfast in the breakfast-parlour by himself. Ever since he wrote down the music in his mind the day before yesterday, when Georgiana left, he has settled quite a lot, and he doesn't mind being by himself all the time.

Mrs Annesley has made it very clear that sitting among hired servants is just not something a gentleman should do. And by now it is obvious that Mrs Annesley is trying to help him to fit in, so he'd better listen to her.

Since he is all alone, he allows himself to bring the paper to the table, and he browses the news as he drinks his coffee and eats his toast.

His eyes skim the page with society news, generally not a page he scrutinizes because he just doesn't know the names of the people that matter in London, as he told Mr Darcy, he was raised to a specific purpose, not to broad knowledge.

And are arrested by a header that comes an incredible lot too close for comfort.

'Music-connoisseurs rejoice!' it says in fat letters, and since Eric considers himself an expert on the subject of music, he reads the following article.

'Dependable sources within the musical community of our beautiful city have confirmed that talented young pianist Mr Eric Fielding has been lovingly rescued from a life of deprivation on the streets by well-esteemed Derbyshire-based landholder Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy.

After Mr Fielding's dismissal on as yet unclear grounds, most likely of a private nature, the young genius was thought to have returned to his family in the north, but apparently fears of the city losing one of its most talented pianists have proven unfounded.

We hope to attend one of his concerts soon, and trust his virtuosity has not suffered for his change in circumstances, though according to our source, Mr Darcy's younger sister being a celebrated young talent herself, as well as a stunningly beautiful young lady, practically guarantees Mr Fielding's continued excellence.'

Crushed, Eric drops into a chair, appetite gone, just look at this! Mr Darcy mentioned name and surname, and Georgiana, the innuendo! The fact that there is a grain of truth in it the size of Hyde Park makes it even worse.

And to make matters worse, Mrs Annesley comes in at that exact moment, a fresh pot of coffee and a cup in hand.

'I thought I'd join you for a cup of coffee, Eric, before it's all hands on deck behind the scenes, so to speak. You must be lonely here, and I often sit with the family, I used to be Miss Darcy's companion, you know, I went everywhere with her.'

Cup filled with steaming coffee, she sees him sitting there, face firmly lodged in his palm, paper obviously the cause of his panic.

'What's in the paper that is so bad, Eric?'

Her voice is gentle, it must be so very pleasant to have a mother, even a motherly woman can make such a difference.

'Please read it yourself, Mrs Annesley, I cannot ever face Mr Darcy, or his sister, again.'

Mrs Annesley picks up the offending page and soon finds the article, then reads it aloud. To hear her articulate voice read those horrific lines makes it even worse, and Eric hopes to be swallowed by a miraculously appearing hole in the ground any time now.

'That is not so bad, is it? It's not very decent to suggest you might want to impress Miss Darcy, but you know she does have this reputation of being very talented, but also inaccessible, and that delivery man must have seen you two together as familiar as brother and sister. You make a great couple to look at, Eric, it's just one extra step for these reporters to make a romance out of that, you cannot help this at all, and Mr Darcy will not hold it against you.

And frankly, Eric, the rest is nothing but free advertising, you couldn't have paid for better publicity. Every music lover in London and plenty of other folk will read this and be reminded you exist, and get curious to hear you play.'

Can she be serious, this respectable lady? He looks up into a pair of kind eyes, but he knows there is plenty of intelligence behind them.

'You don't believe me? You know I'm trying to make a living out of my art, but it's difficult to find buyers, my work is very valuable because there is expensive material and an incredible amount of time involved. I told you I can sell one piece at a time, to one buyer.

You can fill a hall with people and play for them, depending on the hall and the number of people you don't even need to charge a large admission to make some money off the proceeds. Free advertising will guarantee full halls and more concerts.'

'I desperately want to believe every word you say, Mrs Annesley, but are you sure Mr Darcy won't mind being in the papers in this way? He so urged me to not make a row with my patron, to not leave him until I was forced to go, to not give people the impression he had stolen me away from the man who gave me everything.

And now some gossiping piano-hauler puts it in the paper.'

'It says clearly you were rescued from the streets, not lured away with promises of fame and fortune.

Mr Darcy was very clear that you were not to blame, and very welcome here, and I'm sure an article in the society pages of the paper will not make him change his mind. He may feel a bit indignant, especially about his sister, but it will not be directed at you, you didn't talk to the reporter.

If he even gets to see it.'

But Darcy does get to see it, and in a way he would have preferred to forego on.

Of course Bingley has a paper, too, and it is Miss Bingley of all people who glides towards him waving it, dressed in her usual flamboyant style, distinct smirk on her glowing regular features.

'I say, Mr Darcy, have you read the newspaper today?'

'I have, Miss Bingley, there was a lot of disturbing news about the situation in France that I dreaded to read. But I did nonetheless.'

Her smile broadens, she expects a total triumph over him, he can still read her facial expressions like common English.

'This is on the society page, I suppose you don't read that?'

'I generally don't, Miss Bingley, not unless I am very bored, which I couldn't be in such pleasing company as is gathered here.'

'Yes, yes, well, I do read the society page, and so should you, if you're in it!'

All right, she has managed to get his attention, for once.

'I'm in the society page? I never do anything that might be even remotely interesting to anyone outside my own family.'

'Well, apparently you did, for you seem to have acquired a patronage since your last visit to London. Of a young genius no less.

I guess you'd better read it for yourself, that really is your name right over there, the estimable Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy.'

And she hands the paper over to Darcy, who almost snatches it from her hand, though he loathes to let her triumph over him, this may be important.

As he reads the little article, his heart sinks. Poor Mr Fielding, if he finds out he'll be devastated, to have what he feels as a disgrace measured out in a well-read newspaper. In fact, Darcy feels guilty, for if he hadn't accidentally betrayed Mr Fielding's name to Mr Roofer of the delivery firm, clearly the source this reporter mentions, this would never have gotten out until he was settled and it was no longer news.

Though aside from the allusion to Georgiana, which of course is actually true, making it even worse for the poor man, it is not at all bad publicity. To be called a genius, and in Darcy's case estimable, and to have the reason for Mr Fielding's residence stated accurately, it could have been much worse.

Georgie has always been the cause of some speculation among their own class, and of course servants everywhere gossip a lot. In Derbyshire she had the reputation of being very proud and disdainful, like himself actually, but hers was merely caused by shyness and inability to be spontaneous to people. She has improved immensely, and he has Elizabeth to smooth things over.

But such a reputation of being above everyone cannot but give rise to speculations like these sometimes, though she will probably be shocked to read it. Frankly, the readers will love it, if it wasn't his sister's honour involved he'd celebrate the free publicity for Mr Fielding, and he does feel a measure of relieve for himself to have Mr Fielding's patron rightfully take the blame for what happened.

Miss Bingley is waiting for a reaction, she's kind of disappointed to find him so calm over all this, and to please her, and propriety, he acts a little put out.

'This is a disgrace, can't a man help another man in need without giving rise to all sorts of speculations? That is the last time I use that company to move anything.'

But that is not what Miss Bingley expects to hear.

'You mean you really have a pianist living in your house right now? Just like that? You picked him up from the streets without knowing why he was there in the first place?'

She takes it literally, that is actually rather funny.

'Mr Fielding does indeed live with us, but of course I know why he was kicked out of his patron's house, and he never had to spend any time on the streets, for I promised to take him in as soon as he uttered his fear of being dismissed.

We've known him for half a year already, Miss Bingley, he's Georgiana's piano-teacher. So you see, nothing spectacular about his story, and no reason to fear for Georgiana's honour. This is all the reporter's interpretation of a story told by the man who delivered Mr Fielding's piano to our house.

Wait until you hear him play, Miss Bingley, you'll understand instantly.'

Which will take a while, for Elizabeth certainly isn't very keen to receive Miss Bingley at either Pemberley or their town house, and rightly so, for the latter hasn't lost any of her pettiness, and most likely never will.

Though the idea of her falling into Mr Grenfell's clutches still bothers Darcy a lot. He promised to let Bingley and Manners handle that part of the aftermath of Grenfell's misdeed, but in hindsight it feels as if he is sacrificing Miss Bingley to keep Wickham safe. Why doesn't Bingley understand that Grenfell is unsuitable for marriage?

Since the two of them do not exactly have a lot in common anymore, Miss Bingley walks away to Mr Ponsonby, her current favourite. Too bad he's not a teeny bit more handsome, if he could make Miss Bingley forget Grenfell, she would be safe, and Darcy would be spared the presence of another man he detests in his nearest circle.

Though Mr Ponsonby will soon smell of horse, the gentlemen have an appointment to all go out riding in the snow. Elizabeth has told him she'd rather not ride today, on account of a slight cold that has had her sneezing all day.

But somehow, Darcy suspects that may be a ruse to be alone with Georgie, his sister has been a bit distracted the last few days, not all day long, she's merry enough with Manners and Kitty and Mr Lascelles, just when she's playing her sonata. Something is up, and it has to do with Mr Fielding, that is as clear as a bell, why else would Georgie keep it from her very own brother?

Remembering his former self, he knows why, though it hurts nonetheless. He used to be so formal, so severe with her, but that was ages ago, wasn't it? They've shared so much since then.

But if Georgie feels she cannot trust him yet, he'll have to accept that, and be glad she does trust Elizabeth enough to be able to relieve her feelings. Maybe Elizabeth will let him in on it, and if she doesn't he can at least trust her to keep nothing really important from him.

Unaware that her brother is on to her despite her waiting for days for a chance to relieve her feelings, Georgiana feels a bit awkward seeking Elizabeth's confidence, forcing her sister to keep a secret from the man she loves more than anyone on this world, but Georgiana just needs some advice on how to act, towards Eric, but also towards Mr Manners.

Now she knows she's probably not going to ever fall in love with him, does she need to change her behaviour to him accordingly? And should she keep a little distance towards Eric? Is she leading him on?

As soon as she finds out the gentlemen are riding out by themselves that afternoon she finds herself looking for her sister, hoping for a private moment together.

But her hope is soon disappointed when she hears Elizabeth is unwell, she cannot bother her sister when she is feeling under the weather. Such a shame, there really is no-one else to talk to, Jane is sympathetic, but Georgiana doesn't know her all that well, and she needs solid advice more than sympathy anyway.

Disappointed, she decides to find solace in the piano, which works to a treat, of course.

When she feels someone taking a seat very close to her, she expects it to be Kitty, so when in the first pause in her play she hears Elizabeth's voice say, 'That is a mighty impressive piece you're practising, Georgiana,' she looks up in surprise.

'They said you were sick,' is the only reply Georgiana can think of.

'I have a slight cold, and I thought I'd take the opportunity to ask you what is bothering you. You chat and play billiards and cards with the others, but something seems different about you. Especially when you play that piece of music.

Do you want to talk about it? Fitzwilliam knows we'll be keeping secrets from him sometimes, he doesn't like it but he respects it.'

Big lump in her throat suddenly, Georgiana merely nods, and they go to the little sitting-room together.

'Head high, Georgie,' Elizabeth whispers, 'Miss Bingley is watching.'

She's never called Georgiana by Fitzwilliam's pet-name before, and Georgiana is sure she means something by it, but nevertheless she lifts her head high and controls her expression to neutral. No need to make anyone curious about her mood.

Once in the room by themselves, Elizabeth sits on a cosy sofa and invites Georgiana to sit with her, as snugly in her arms as she was in Fitzwilliam's.

She doesn't ask what is going on, she merely holds her sister and waits for her to speak. That must be something she learned from Fitzwilliam, and it's exactly the right way to handle his sister. After a few minutes' silence, in which Georgiana collects her thoughts and tries to formulate what she wants to tell Elizabeth, she manages to express herself reasonably well.

'On the first evening in London, Fitzwilliam left us for an hour or so, he was thoroughly fed up with our endless talk of music I guess. And Eric was so distraught with what had happened, I asked him to play for me, I thought it would calm him.

Elizabeth, I could hear all his hurt, all his fear in his music, but it worked, he calmed down and played on. Then he expressed his need for belonging, for love.

My love, Elizabeth. This wasn't a crush anymore, such a deep need, he begged me to believe he has a soft side, not just ambition and drive to excel.

I don't think he realised I understood every single word he played, he thought he was merely entertaining me with some beautiful music that was filling his mind at that point in time.

But I did, and it did something to me, inside. I have felt it stirring ever since, it wants me to sit close to him, to take his hand. The first time I felt it, it overwhelmed me and I stroked his hair and kissed him on the lips.

He never reacted, he couldn't, he was drained from his playing and stunned with what I did. I ran off, I was so ashamed, such improper behaviour.

I did apologise later, and he said he understood that I should want to comfort him, but I told him it wasn't pity that moved me to do that, but something else, something more profound.'

Elizabeth looks totally captivated, and she cannot help exclaiming, 'Oh my dear Georgiana, you must be in love!

That is so incredibly beautiful and romantic, but I can understand why you'd need to talk to someone about it. No wonder you're confused!

Did you tell Fitzwilliam? I suppose not, since you're not happy but rather worried and even upset.'

Now Georgiana finds it easier to talk.

'I didn't tell him for I am not sure it's love. I still have to consider I'm merely feeling sorry for him, to have lost his home and his family, to feel so insecure. You think I'm in love, then?'

Her sister squeezes her embrace firmly and without hesitation states, 'Yes, my dear, if you want to sit really close to someone and keep being tempted to touch him and even stroke his hair and kiss him, even when he is happy, teaching you a new piece of music, then you're in love. Pity goes away when the subject is feeling better, love stays.'

'But I'm not dying to go back home, shouldn't I be?'

'Aren't you? Really? Now you've told me and I don't blame you for falling in love with your piano-teacher? Weren't you merely afraid to have done something bad and afraid to be confronted with your bad behaviour?'

Drat! She was right, thinking of Eric makes her want to return to him instantly, not to kiss him or to touch him, but just to be with him.

'Dear Georgiana, I didn't say that to get the better of you! I can see I was right, but please don't feel bad, we'll find a way for you to deal with it, really.

I think it's a good thing you love someone who really loves you, and whom you have so much in common with. I'm behind you all the way, believe me.

But I can also imagine why you didn't tell Fitzwilliam yet, you are confused, and afraid he'll forbid you to be with Mr Fielding, and maybe even send him away. I truly believe he doesn't see it like that, not anymore, but I can so understand your not wanting to test him before you are really sure of yourself.

Let's think how to make this easiest on you, once we're back in London.'

'And what to do with Mr Manners? I don't want him to think I'm leading him on.'

'That is so sweet of you, to think of him. But you cannot tell him you're in love with someone else before you tell your very own brother.

And you cannot distance yourself from Mr Manners, or he'll notice something has changed, with the same end-result. If he asks you what is going on, you will not be able to deny him the truth, Georgiana, I think he has an even stronger will than Fitzwilliam. He knows you're not interested in him beyond friendship, that will have to suffice for now.'

'And what about Eric? How can I keep from touching him? Is there a way to suppress these feelings, so I don't try to catch his scent each time he sits next to me?'

'Dear Georgiana, you're really caught, aren't you? That is so sweet!

Is that why you're learning housekeeping and accounting? Preparing yourself for life without luxuries and servants?

You are! I admire you, Georgiana, but you know it's not impossible to live very well off your fortune.'

'Thank you, Elizabeth, your approval is valuable to me. I know it can be done, but it will be easier if I know what things cost, and how to make the most of what I have. But don't think I'm dreaming of marriage already! I'm still trying to cope with all these feelings, I'd rather just have everything as it was, and first get used to Eric living with us, controlling my urges altogether.

Do you think that is sensible? He told me it would get easier with time, it did for him. He said a pianist is used to being disciplined.'

'That is so romantic, Georgiana, to think you told him and he tried to hearten you. I know this is hard on you, and even more so on him, but I'm just melting at the spot. I'll have a hard time hiding my feelings, I just want to hug you both and tell you everything will be all right.

But don't worry, I won't betray you, I'll act the collected matron to perfection.'

Despite her serious misgivings over all this, Georgiana cannot help laughing.

'You, a matron? You're a mere four years older than me, and you are so beautiful, Elizabeth. But I'm glad I you're not blaming me for falling in love with a man so much beneath me.'

'That would be the most hypocritical thing in the world, Georgiana, remember where I come from? And I do think your brother is coming around nicely, but I don't think he is altogether ready for Mr Fielding as his brother, not yet. I do think it's best to give it some more time, for both of them.

And for you. Just control your reactions towards him but don't avoid him, talk music and play music, and whenever you need some support, you can come to me and we'll talk about it.'

'Thank you, Elizabeth, I will. I hope it won't be too hard to keep this from Fitzwilliam, I feel bad about that, but I have no-one else to talk to. I hope he won't mind too much.'

'Even if he does, Georgiana, it cannot be helped. I can understand the reason why you don't want to tell him, yet, and I am certain our bond can stand this bit of secrecy.'


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter 55

And it can, but that doesn't mean Darcy is pleased with it. He knows something is going on between Elizabeth and Georgie, the way his beloved looks at her sister whenever she thinks no-one is watching. Positively soft.

So it's probably as he suspects, Georgie has learned to love Mr Fielding, it is hurtful that neither of them will tell him, but it is also true that he does need some time to get used to the idea of his sister contemplating getting married to a penniless, though very gifted, man.

That way, when it does come out, he will be able to keep from showing his disappointment. And he can make sure his driven protégé cannot use his sister's fortune to further his own ambitions. Though frankly, Darcy doesn't think Mr Fielding capable of doing such a thing, he seems ready to give up on his boyhood dreams and build a life for himself a bit closer to home.

They do look good together, such a handsome couple. And though Mr Fielding always seemed rather overbearing in his teaching, seeing him at his most vulnerable has shown both Georgie and himself that he is a real human with strong feelings. Remarkably enough the complete opposite of Manners, who seemed so gentle but turned out to be rather overpowering, even towards Darcy himself.

Though he'd undoubtedly take good care of Georgie, too. Better hope she'll hide her feelings well, at least until that gentleman is back to his own house, for it wouldn't do for him to find the girl he is after already taken by his inferior. Though in a way, Mr Fielding is superior to the lot of them, having come so far from such humble beginnings.

All in all, the time until their departure does not give Darcy any cause to worry, Georgiana is much more like herself, she makes the most of the company she's in, playing dances for the young people, dancing herself with all the young men present, and with her brother.

And Elizabeth is even nicer to him than ever, a rather disconcerting situation to be in, to know the truth, and at the same time be spoiled by his wife out of guilt for leaving him in the dark. It makes being left out so much more real, it feels like rubbing it in. If only she doesn't go too far being nice, he so loves her to be pert to him, and yes, occasionally very bossy.

Of course that is just an act to her, though his need for it is very real. But the next time that strange mood hits him and he feels the need to give himself up to her completely, she reacts so strongly it almost seems real to her, too.

It starts during dinner, he is sitting next to Elizabeth, talking to Mrs and Mr Hurst, the latter of whom has taken quite a fancy to Elizabeth lately, or more probably from the start but daring to show it only since her marriage to Darcy has given her a certain standing, and who certainly shows his preference now.

Though he knows Elizabeth sees Mr Hurst merely as entertainment from an unexpected quarter, and maybe a kind of ally among the opposition, he still feels a flash of irritation at the man's open admiration of his wife.

Is his sudden overpowering urge to humble himself to Elizabeth his subconscious' punishment for his own scornful jealousy? It cannot be atonement towards Elizabeth, for embarrassing her in public does not make up for a despicable feeling that is so well-hidden only she can even discern it.

'Mrs Darcy,' says Mr Hurst, 'I know you prefer a hearty dish to one of these dainties, but this French duck's liver pâté is so exquisite, I am not below begging you to taste it. You'll love it, I'm sure.'

'Elizabeth my love, will you please taste the pâté quickly? I don't think I could bear it if anyone but me got to beg you for anything.'

The way she looks at him nearly frightens him in this mood, she is as close to anger as he has ever seen her, which gives him a thrill of anticipation and yes, pleasure.

'Mr Darcy!' she says, 'may I speak to you outside this room for a moment?'

Now he's going to get it, she's not even trying to shush him at the table, but admonishes him aloud right there and then, she must be livid!

He gets up and walks towards the exit, part penitently, partly very excited at what is to come. Will she yell at him? Or merely talk to him seriously?

Everyone is looking at them, Elizabeth does not excuse herself to Mr Hurst, who will not get to beg her after all. Good.

The moment they get to the hall, she takes hold of his collar and pushes him to a seat forcefully, he didn't expect her to do anything physical and stumbles and nearly falls altogether, but her hold on his coat just barely helps him to sit down instead.

She straddles him, and releasing his collar grabs him by the back of the neck and kisses him, also with force. He can hardly breathe with excitement.

'The servants will be talking away gladly anyway, so you may as well enjoy it. You want to beg me for anything?'

'Yes, please, Elizabeth, may I sit at your feet? Just you and me?'

Before he knows it, she has pulled him up again, and she leads him to the private little sitting-room, where she sits down in the largest chair, and he sinks to the ground at her feet.

'Will you scold me for making a scene?' he asks in a small but rather expectant voice.

'Of course I will, Mr Darcy, how dare you behave that way in public? When will you get the better of your jealousy? What has Mr Hurst ever done to you for you to act out that way? He didn't mean that literally!'

'I'm sorry, Elizabeth, I don't know what came over me.'

'I know, love, you're forgiven. You may sit in the chair and take me in your lap.'

That's too soon! He's not done with this by far, but Elizabeth is distracted, she has something on her mind. He cannot refuse her order, though, so he lifts her easily, and soon he has her in his arms, his face in her bosom, and she is stroking his hair. He sighs and relishes her closeness.

'Now tell me, Fitzwilliam, what brought that on? In public? Have you gone mad? You're still not back to yourself, are you? Have I upset you somehow? You've sure upset me, giving Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley food for weeks of gossip. Mr Hurst is probably jealous of you right now, so you've gotten your way, now I want mine, speak up.'

She's truly out of sorts now, and rightly so, she didn't do anything to set him off.

'I really don't know what came over me, Elizabeth, I'm truly sorry to have upset you. You did play along perfectly.'

'I was afraid you'd act out even more if I didn't. I knew you'd obey my bossy voice to continue this somewhere private.

You really don't know why you want to be bossed around?'

'Maybe I need a certain amount of pertness from you, and if you're too nice something in me acts out to get it?'

'I've been as insolent to you as ever, haven't I? No wait, I haven't. I've been trying to please you, because I knew you felt bad about my sharing confidences with your sister. But love, you know I can't tell you, if Georgiana cannot confide in me, whom can she trust?'

'My mind knows she needs you, Elizabeth, but my heart feels so left out. You're the two people I love most in this world, and yet it's as if you don't trust me. How can I ignore that?

I'm sorry I didn't just tell you, I suppose I didn't even realise I felt that strongly, and I don't expect you to betray your confidence. It's just so hurtful, how can it be that I love you both so much, and still it doesn't seem to be enough?'

'It may sound callous to you, love, but this has nothing to do with you or me. Nor with Georgiana's love for you, you know she loves you more than anyone, and you know I love you more than anyone.

Will you be angry with me, Fitzwilliam, if I put it to you that this is not about belonging, but about control? Over me, and over your sister? You like me to be bossy sometimes, and you are tickled that Georgiana has started to develop some teeth, giving Wickham his due, but in the end you are the one in control, you are the one who owns everything, the person Georgiana has to ask for permission to lead her life as she wants to.

Can you blame her for keeping certain things from you? Your power over her is as total as your power over me, except I chose to deliver myself to you because I love you, I made my own decision to put myself in your power.

But Georgiana needs to make her own decisions, and your power over her already influences her choices. If she were to confide in you, tell you all her doubts, all her insecurities, you'd want to make those decisions for her, to spare her the agony, but still the choice would be made and she'd accept it out of habit and love for you, and live with the consequences ever after.'

Angry, no. Devastated is a better term. Elizabeth put herself in his power? Feels herself ruled by him? That cannot be true, can it? He has always treated her as an equal, hasn't he? He cannot help the way the law works, or that the fortune is his, can he?

Struck completely dumb, Darcy cannot think of anything better to do than hide his face in his beloved's neck, inhaling her exquisite and familiar scent, clutching her to his chest as if he expects her to wring loose and leave him.

Her silence and her nearness calm him a tiny bit, she's stroking him again, she does love him more than anyone, and after some thinking, he realises she is right about Georgiana. He does feel a need to control her future, to protect her from poverty or being hurt. Knowing she is probably starting to fall for Mr Fielding, he was already planning to secure her fortune from him, he never even considered letting Georgie decide for herself. And he still cannot imagine himself letting go of his power over his sister altogether, he still needs to contemplate the implications of her future with a man who is not landed gentry, but merely supremely gifted and a very good person.

But Elizabeth? He has never tried to rule her, never! It's just not fair of her, how can he ever explain to her he feels so very safe and loved when she commands him? It's not a game to him, not a way to make their loving more interesting, it's a need deep inside him that sometimes surfaces, and that lies dormant for weeks after she has let him lie at her feet, stroking him as she does now, comforting him, taking the constant burden of those who depend on him from his shoulders for a few moments.

'Love?'

She's worried, he's been totally motionless for minutes.

'Love, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say those things like that, I mean, I meant what I said about Georgiana, you do control her life, maybe without meaning to, but you do and don't think anything of it.

But you've never once tried to rule me. That was unfair of me, and unworthy, after all you suffered for me. I know you love me, and I love you more than anything.

Will you please say something? Anything?'

He doesn't want to move, he feels safe here, he wants to stay like this forever, but he is upsetting his beloved further, after he has made a fool of himself in public and upset her immensely. Looking up, he can see tears in her eyes, he needs to be totally honest now, or she'll think his silence was a ploy to break her to his will, to get his way.

'You were right, about Georgie. I still think I have a right to rule her, decide her life for her, protect her from anything that might hurt her. I will need some time to get my head around the fact that she will get hurt some day, that it is my task not to protect her from it, but to teach her to cope, or to reach out to for help when it happens.'

A crushing embrace proves her whole heart is in this, and she covers him in kisses.

'But Elizabeth, love of my life, lying at your feet is not a game I like to play, it is the only way I can fulfil some great need inside me, lay down the burden of my responsibilities for a few moments, feel totally safe and protected, by you, my love. You're so strong and independent, when you control me I can let go, show my weakness to the only person I can truly trust. Please don't be angry at me, my love, I cannot bear it, I need you so much, I want you by my side always.'

She must believe him, though he cannot look at her to see if that is true.

'You know you can share those responsibilities with me before they get the better of you, beloved. But somehow I did know it was important to you, my love, to have me boss you around, and I'll keep doing it to you if you want me to, even in public, if that's what you need.

Please forgive me for accusing you unfairly of trying to control me, you've treated me with nothing but love and respect, Fitzwilliam. It was your boundless power over your sister that riled me up, but of course that doesn't influence my love for you, my affection is yours and yours alone.'

Resting his head in her bosom, Darcy finds his peace with his beloved's sudden anger, now fortunately put to rest, but only temporarily, unless he changes his attitude towards Georgie, radically.

But even if he doesn't, her love is his, it is not conditional, she will love him and support him regardless. Although he knows she'll fight him all the way if he keeps trying to rule Georgie's life.

Neither of them has an idea of how long they've been there, when a timid knock sounds on the door.

'Can I please come in? We're all worried, Fitzwilliam, what came over you?'

A muffled voice sounds through the thick door.

It's Georgie.

A quick look at Elizabeth shows she has no objections against her sister entering the room.

'Do come in, Georgie.'

She walks towards them and stands before them, then accuses them both.

'You've quarrelled! Your first quarrel. And it was over me, wasn't it? I shouldn't have forced you to keep a secret from the man you love, Elizabeth, it's too much to ask from both of you, I'm sorry.

Have you made up? You look awful, both of you, good, that'll teach you not to fight, you love each other, fighting can only hurt you, nothing good ever comes of it.'

'I beg to differ, my sweet sister, though for about ten minutes it hurt worse than anything except Miss Elizabeth Bennet's rejection, it most certainly did accomplish something very important. Not that I ever want to feel like that again, I'm cured of quarrelling, the making up just doesn't compensate for the pain suffered.'

'Oh my love, you didn't even quarrel. Don't let him fool you, Georgiana, he was entirely blameless for this thing turning into a drama. It was my fault, I was unreasonable and said some harsh things, most of them undeserved. I'm so sorry, love, I hope your fears are laid to rest, I love you so much, I cannot live without you either.'

Georgiana now looks doubtful.

'Are you sure, Elizabeth? I did witness my brother behaving scandalously, and to the public eye you merely shut him down rather effectively and discreetly. Of course it will be all over London within the week, Mr Darcy of Pemberley being undeservedly jealous of his beautiful young wife, and the selfsame wife calling him to order with a single sentence.'

They both look at Georgiana instantly, and Darcy voices both their thoughts.

'Jealous?'

'Yes, Mr Hurst said you told him off for being too intimate towards your lady wife, and Mrs Hurst says she didn't hear what was said, she was not going to listen to her husband flattering another man's wife and was busy talking to Jane next to her until she heard Mrs Darcy take her husband to task in such a tone as was impossible to ignore.'

'You didn't tell him off, did you, Fitzwilliam? You looked as if you were in the process of throwing yourself at Elizabeth's feet when she stopped you just in time. I heard her call you Mr Darcy, and that is not a good sign, outside the bedroom that is. You'd better thank Mr Hurst on your bare knees for lying to protect your reputation, and I hope Mrs Hurst really didn't hear whatever you said.

Now, you both look terrible, I'll make excuses for you and have some dinner sent up to your room for you.

And to prevent further quarrelling between the two of you, Fitzwilliam, I will tell you exactly what I told Elizabeth.

Since our evening in London, dear brother, I'm starting to have tender feelings towards Eric. You know him as Mr Fielding.

And I beg you to let your quarrels about this be with me, not with him. That would break my heart, he has been through enough, and he cannot help my falling in love with him.'

She turns on her heels, ready to storm out, but Elizabeth nudges him ungently.

'Georgie, please stay a moment longer.'

She turns around, fear of his reaction all over her beautiful features. Fear of him. In his sister. What to say to ease it?

'We did quarrel about you, Georgie, Elizabeth accused me of ruling your life, and she was right.

I will stop trying to control your life. Please don't be afraid of me, I love you so much. I thought I knew best what was good for you, but Elizabeth forced me to face what your expression just proved: I didn't, I merely made you fear my power over you.

I'll work on it, you take your time to sort your feelings, and tell me what to do. Until then, I'll do nothing at all. Can I have a hug? I feel like I've been pulled through a wringer. Slowly.'

'Now I'm not fit to be seen either, we'll have to send Fanny or Simon to excuse all three of us.'

Georgiana is crying silently, but with all her doubt and fears behind it, and embraces her brother and sister all in one, until Elizabeth makes way for her and Darcy can take his sister in his arms and try to console her for the fear he caused her.

And you know what? Elizabeth is so small, she fits on his other knee, he wants her close too, being a tall man has its advantages after all.

'I'm so sorry my ladies, to make such a fuss over something so unimportant.'

'You find my falling in love with a penniless pianist unimportant?'

Georgiana is back to herself instantly, and sounds more than a little insulted.

'Of course not, Georgiana, my baby-sister falling in love with anyone is big news. But I had already concluded you had learned to love him, from all kinds of little things I observed.

I made the fuss about not being told, I really did feel left out, you know. I love you both so much, to have you form a pact against me is so painful.'

'You knew?'

Elizabeth is stunned.

'And you didn't get angry?'

And Georgiana not less so.

'Of course not, I like Mr Fielding a lot, and I admire him. And he is so appropriate, to love you and hide it so well. I really didn't catch him at it until you held his hand to let him feel that exercise, Georgie, and then I only noticed because I was watching him intently for just such a sign of admiration.

But I must admit it will take some getting used to to consider him as my brother-in-law.'

'I'm not ready to think of marriage at all, Fitzwilliam, I'll be seventeen next month, that is way too young to leave you, I still have so much to learn!

Still, it will be a kind of relief to have you know about it, I've been so scared to slip up and call him Eric before you, and have you throw him out.'

'When I promised him he could come to live with us if circumstances were against him, I knew he loved you, and I knew there was a chance you'd one day return his affection. I'm not going to ruin his prospects for that.'

'Thank you so much, Fitzwilliam, now I'm looking forward to Christmas, and all our visitors, and I promise you, until I know exactly what my feelings are, I will not tell him or let him know about all this, everything will be just as it was for a while, we'll get to know each other better slowly.

I'm leaving you by yourselves, I'm going to my own room for an hour. I have some thinking to do. I'll ring for Fanny and have her tell Jane or Bingley we'll be joining them for supper. Agree?'

'Yes, dear Georgiana,' Elizabeth says fondly, 'we'll take an hour, too, then go back downstairs. But for now, we need to be together, your brother and I. We have some making up to do.'


	46. Chapter 46

And here Darcy thought they had already had the making up, and decided it was not worth the pain of moments before, but he was thoroughly mistaken.

For Elizabeth takes a firm hold of his cravat and leads him to their bedroom, where she pushes him over on the bed and starts to undress him. His weird mood, totally ruined by their quarrel, is very willing to return, it hasn't been satisfied yet.

When he tries to unbutton her dress, she actually slaps his fingers!

'Not yet, Mr Darcy, you haven't earned that yet. You've been very bad tonight, and you need to prove you can behave first, by staying perfectly still while I test your devotion to me, and me alone.

Remember, I decide who gets to beg me for anything, not you!'

With a sigh of contentment, Darcy gives himself up to the most beautiful, smartest and most loving woman in all of England.

When he is totally naked, he feels a little vulnerable with his love still entirely dressed, and sitting on top of him, kneading his bare flesh, giving him little bites here and there, stroking his most sensitive places eagerly and not at all carefully.

Since he is rather ticklish, it's not easy at all to stay perfectly still, and every time he so much as twitches, she rebukes him with a sharp word or a slap or a nip.

When she has stroked and kissed every part of him, she admonishes him to stay put, and does something beside the bed, he cannot see for he dares not move his head.

Soon, she's back, still dressed, and she straddles him, he still finds that so incredibly tantalizing, and she's sitting right on top of his manhood, but she said he must keep still, so he keeps still.

Actually is it very pleasant to just let her decide everything, and all the tension of their fight, and the tension that led to it, drain away out of his body, leaving him totally relaxed and very heated, but still obedient. Taking his release is unthinkable, it's his fate to await patiently what his beloved orders him to do.

Feeling him relax under her, his beloved seems satisfied, and she turns around and takes a firm hold of his manhood and takes all of it in her mouth, sucking it with relish, stroking his testicles gently at the same time.

The feeling is overwhelming, he is rarely as bonelessly relaxed as now, and the bliss hits him so much harder in this state. He can barely suppress a moan, and keep himself from fondling her behind, still covered with her beautiful dress.

'That is so good of you, you're very well-behaved, Mr Darcy, I expected you to make a noise or try to touch me, but you've proven you can control yourself after all.'

And she licks and sucks his member once again, another wave of lust washing over him, making it ever harder to control himself.

Then, with a flick, she lifts up the skirt of her dress, and she's totally naked beneath!

Of course he wants to stroke those creamy thighs, her silky buttocks, and most of all, the tempting intimate parts of her, presenting themselves to him at their most stimulating. How he longs to touch those, open them up to expose their very centre, the soft moist flesh that begs him to taste it, to lick it until she squeals in abandonment.

But he dare not, she'd surely punish him if he did, she'd slap him, or worse, she'd forbid him to touch it. Better wait a bit longer for permission.

Her hands and mouth stop their ministrations for a few seconds, and she looks over her shoulder at him.

'Very good, you're so obedient tonight! I've teased you, plagued you and tantalized you, and still you didn't move a muscle. I'm so proud of you!

You may take your reward, you must be raging on the inside.'

But he isn't. He's very calm, and very happy, though incredibly heated, of course, what man could bear all this without getting fired up?

Very, very slowly and gently, he strokes her buttocks and thighs, all he wished to touch moments earlier. It feels so good, and all this time his manhood is being spoiled with tongue and mouth.

Still slowly, he wriggles under the skirt, takes a firm hold of the flesh covering her most intimate parts, and opens her up to take his first taste. It is as good as he expected, and he eagerly explores all of it, until his love indeed starts to get a little noisy.

He can feel a climax nearing, that is way too early once again, and though it's much too forward, he needs to get her to stop, this must not end already.

Stroking her hand, he tries to signal her to stop for a moment, and she does, looking straight at him.

'It's too soon, this can't be over already.'

She smiles lovingly, and turns around to face him, kissing him with a relish, then she sits on his face, covering him with her skirts. It's not easy to find what he is looking for in the dark, but with a lot of feeling around he manages, and soon he is sucking her softest flesh blissfully once more.

This is kind of cosy, hidden under her skirts, she's right on top of him, he need only move his tongue, maybe add a finger where it matters, and he has his beloved shuddering with bliss.

All too soon she groans in a climax, then kneels before him as she did just now, skirts lifted over her back, her delicious buttocks facing him, her tempting opening calling out to him, urging him to plunge in right now.

But dare he? Just like that? She's never presented herself like that, it's so, so, primitive? What is making love but primitive? Following base urges?

'Will you get on with it? Or do you expect me to beg for it?'

'No, no, my love, I'll do whatever pleases you. One tiny moment, please?'

He has no clue how this works, he needs to be careful here, if he does it wrong she'll probably be very angry.

Feeling around a little, getting pleased mumbles in reaction, he finds the opening, and plunges in without further hesitation. That meets with approval, and soon they are rutting like animals, groaning and squealing, until he feels his climax wash over him, keeping up his pumping until she moans as well.

Then they crash to the bed, spent.

And without warning, bossy Elizabeth is nowhere in sight. She settles under his arm and clutches herself against him. Is she crying? Why?

Suddenly he knows. She's a mere twenty years old, and she's just scolded her much older husband into realising he's smothering his sister. Though he has always taken her seriously, and has always listened to her, Elizabeth obviously feels her dependence on him, and she must have been rather frightened of the consequences when she told him right in his face that he might be acting out to gain control over her. It's not true, but it's so incredibly understandable.

She has laid his strange, overpowering need to rest for some time to come, now it is her turn to be reassured.

He picks up her lithe body easily, and deposits it on his own, wrapping her in his arms, nuzzling her hair, mumbling with all the feeling her situation causes him, 'Don't worry, Elizabeth, my love, you can say anything to me, always. I will never hold your honesty against you, I love you more than myself, how could I ever be angry with you?'

'I just feel so guilty about making a big deal out of it. I could have told you what I thought calmly. I hurt you, and I never wanted to.'

'I seem to remember you did tell me calmly once before, Elizabeth. I think I needed to feel this, and not just for Georgie. I think I may have pushed you too far tonight, misbehaving in public, then expecting you to indulge me in my behaviour, pushing you until you snapped.

And you coolly gave me what I needed afterwards, undoubtedly feeling miserable yourself. What did I do to deserve you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth?'

'You chased me relentlessly for half a year, until I gave up and married you.'

She is smiling again, she is so strong.

Their last quarter of an hour they lie as close together as two people can manage, in total silence. Then they wash and ring the bell to be gilded once again.

Supper is a bit embarrassing, with everyone watching them intently, fortunately they must look the same as ever, trying to refrain from being intimate in public, though Elizabeth's actual feelings are much different.

She is very glad when the evening has finally passed, her feelings have been shaken very badly. First by Fitzwilliam allowing his weird mood to surface in public, then her sudden irritation at his humble attitude when in fact the whole problem is his dominance, and then his stunned and hurt response.

At least Georgiana can rest a little quieter for the night's proceedings, but Elizabeth will feel the impact for some time yet.

To think that she attacked her beloved so viciously, when she loves him so much. She still cannot believe it, nor that he truly wants her to dominate him, but he did in fact let go more than ever before at one moment tonight, apparently he needs to be overruled sometimes to feel free.

Head still spinning, she barely manages to be polite, she merely sticks to Fitzwilliam, seeking comfort and getting it. She's given him peace of mind at great cost to herself, but it has had the desired effect, and now he is ready to support her.

She knows she is very quiet while Fanny brushes her hair, she just cannot help it, she's still upset to have treated her love so badly, to have reduced him to begging her for her love, her strong man, her idol. The only thing that can make this right is lying in his arms, feeling the warm, solid reality of him.

'I'm sorry to be such bad company, Fanny. I guess I'm just tired with the constant scrutiny of my clothes, and my hair, and how I look at the master. I'm ready to go home, just one more day and we'll be on our way.

I suppose you won't miss this place either, having to be on your guard all the time with everyone trying to get juicy gossip out of you.'

'To be sure, ma'am, I'll be glad to be back in London, but mostly because Cook allows Bob and me certain liberties. They've more or less stopped trying to find out things, it didn't work out anyway. And Miss Ragwort isn't as keen anymore to get my job, with Mr Grenfell and a town-house in the picture. If only she knew, ma'am, that was the only time I had trouble keeping my mouth firmly shut.

But Mr Manners said I had to keep quiet to save Mr Wickham, so there was nothing else to do. He's been really nice to Simon and myself, totally appropriate, mind you, just wishing us a good day, and a little chat now and then.

Well, ma'am, I'm done, I wish you a very good night, I hope you will let me gild you once in a while to keep in practice in London, and even in Derbyshire.'

She is a treasure, Fanny, such a loyal and hard-working girl.

'Of course, Fanny, we'll go out sometimes, or have visitors. Good night, Fanny. See you in the morning.'

When she's finally back in Fitzwilliam's arms, she just cannot help it, a big lump develops in her throat and her eyes overflow. If only she could start this day all over again, she'd just kick him under the table, or tickle him, to snap him out of that strange humility. Or she could have ignored him, sharing some of the pâté with him.

'Whatever you are beating yourself up over, Elizabeth, remember, if you hadn't taken me to task, Georgiana would at this moment be crying herself to sleep. May I quote you own wisdom back at you? Think only of the past as its remembrance affords you pleasure.

We quarrelled, we made up, I love you more than ever, and I hope you still love me.'

She cannot see him in the dark, but his sweetness and forgiveness make her feel very blessed and very wanted, feelings she takes her time to relish.

After maybe five minutes of silence, he squeezes her and kisses her lips gently.

'Do I need to worry? I expressed a certain hope, and was actually anxiously awaiting an answer?'

'I'm sorry, my love, I cannot yet make jokes about what happened, I'm still very upset. You'll have to give me a little more time. I've never in my life said such terrible things to anyone, I still don't understand why.

I love you more than life itself, why would I want to hurt you so badly?'

He does not let her continue.

'That is what I wanted to hear, you love me. The rest is not important, believe me. It wasn't so bad, Elizabeth, don't beat yourself up over it.

Here, let me spoil you until you feel better, you've had a horrible day. I'm actually glad we got this sorted out, as long as you still love me, that is. Just tell me often, and I'll be fine.

In turn, I'll tell you I love you and admire you for standing up for your beliefs, imagine how happy Georgie must be right now, thanks to you.'

And in his warm, comfortable embrace she finally falls asleep, not yet convinced everything is all right, but sure of her husband's love at least.

But the next day dawns like any other day, with Fitzwilliam happy to see her, and eager to make love. Elizabeth's character is positive by nature, and she finds it much easier to forget what happened and relish her husband's obvious love.

And Georgiana certainly is back to her carefree enjoyment of her friends and her music, which cannot but give Elizabeth some satisfaction. Being in love for the first time is confusing enough in itself, let her sister enjoy the first real stirring of her feelings without worrying about her brother's opinion on the object of her affection.

That day passes quickly, and so does their return journey, on horseback once again, less cold since the snow has largely thawed, fortunately not making way to rain, but actually a fine winter day.

They are all very happy to be back home, Georgiana is behind the piano playing the sonata with Mr Fielding as soon as she has changed to a comfortable dress more suitable for wearing indoors.

Of course Fanny and Simon are out of sight as soon as they reach the house, there is the unpacking to do, but so much else with their Christmas party due in two days. Simon seems out of spirits, but Elizabeth is not surprised by that, he relishes his duties as valet so much, presenting his master at his very best, enjoying the attention and respect of the Netherfield staff, things here will be dull in comparison.

Oh well, the coming party will liven things up a little, and in a month or two they will all move to Pemberley together.


	47. Chapter 47

On the morning after their return, they are sitting in the drawing-room together, Mr Fielding and Georgie busy with the sonata, Elizabeth reading part of the paper, Darcy the rest. He has taken to checking the society pages, apparently his protégé and his own family are worth gossiping about, and he prefers to find out by himself, not be surprised again by someone else.

The butler enters, and announces, 'Mr Darcy, sir, there's someone to see you.'

'Thank you, Johnson, did he mention his name?'

'He did not, sir, I asked, but he said staff should know their place, even if their master is above common decency. He's normal size, going on plump, red-cheeked, expensive mink-lined coat with matching mink busby. He didn't look like a gentleman, I guess more like a wealthy tradesman.'

'I suppose you'd better send him into my study then, and have someone bring coffee, with Cook's special cookies. There will be some soothing to do.

Though I can't recall whom I have offended recently, I'll ask Mrs Annesley, maybe she knows more. Will you send her in? My visitor can wait a few moments, apparently he has little trust in my decency anyway.'

Of course Georgie has stopped playing when the butler came in, to allow him to make himself heard. But when Johnson leaves, and Darcy gets up to interview Mrs Annesley and see his visitor, the music does not resume.

Looking towards the piano to see what is going on, Darcy notices Mr Fielding gaping at him in abhorrence.

'A mink busby, Mr Darcy, that's my patron, Mr Zumpe, it can't be anyone else, he's so proud of that atrocity. Louise tried to get him to quit wearing it, but he wouldn't budge. Said it had cost him a fortune and he liked it.

They quarrelled, the only time I saw Louise show some spunk. I suppose she never tried again, it didn't have any effect anyway. Mr Zumpe never takes no for an answer, I'm going to get you in trouble after all, I'm so sorry.'

'Mr Fielding, please calm down! I'm not a faint-hearted adolescent, I'm an adult married man, and I think I can handle one self-important tradesman.'

'But I thought you wanted to stay on his good side?'

'I did, but it seems he doubts my decency and snubs my butler, who cannot help anything I may have done. I take exception to that.

And Mr Fielding, do not be mistaken: though I do want to keep my excellent reputation with the London tradesmen, I am very put out with the way your patron treated you after years of faithful service. To just kick you out on the streets without providing any shelter or means of survival is downright cruel.

He will not find me very forgiving, I can afford to insult one or two business-people. Besides, the paper clearly stated he threw you out before I took you in, and we all know the paper is always right.'

That doesn't make it better for Mr Fielding, of course, the memory of that article obviously still smarts. But he does need to buckle up a little, he can look forward to plenty of harsh criticism in the future, if he bares his very soul to the masses by letting them hear his compositions.

'Come, Mr Fielding, take heart. You're under my protection here, he cannot hurt you anymore. Nor can he hurt me, my reputation is flawless and little can dent it. Ah, there is Mrs Annesley, maybe she can shed a light on our visitor being angry.'

Darcy decides to take her to the hall to discuss this in private, and throws a look at Elizabeth to implore her to take care of Mr Fielding and Georgie. At her gesture, Georgie starts playing again, distracting Mr Fielding from his worries until they know whether he has anything to worry about.

Once in the hall, Mrs Annesley asks, 'Johnson said you wanted to know whether I'd snubbed a man with a mink busby? Did you really tell him to ask me that?'

'No, I didn't. I think Johnson really objected to being rebuffed by a visitor who was clearly not a gentleman, and vented his frustration on you. Feel free to address him on that yourself.

But though I meant to ask you myself in more polite terms, it is what I want to know. Did a man in such a headdress ask admittance to the house before today, and did you give him any reason to be offended?'

His housekeeper now looks positively guilty, and replies, 'I did, Mr Darcy. He came to your door I think three days ago, when you were still in Hertfordshire, and demanded to see Mr Fielding. He was red faced and angry, and tried to bully his way in.

But that was not the sole reason I denied him entrance, I had just gotten Mr Fielding to calm down a little and feel resigned to his situation and even looking forward to a future of freedom and independence.

I like Mr Fielding a great deal, and I would hate to see him back in servitude, so I told the man that my employer had forbidden me to let him in. Had he been polite I might not have been so presumptuous, but frankly, Mr Darcy, I lost my temper, inwardly. He never noticed my anger, he believed me and blamed you.

I'm sorry, also for not telling you before, it slipped my mind in the Christmas preparations.'

'Never mind, Mrs Annesley. Had I expected him to turn up, I would have given you those exact instructions, not to let him in without my presence, I don't trust Mr Fielding to not return to servitude from a feeling of indebtedness, either. Thank you for standing up for him and don't worry, I'll settle this to everyone's satisfaction.

Mr Fielding will be free and with a bit of help from all of us, independent.

Now, I need to go see him. Thank you for the explanation.'

Mrs Annesley merely curtseys and rushes off, glad no doubt to get off this easily.

Straight to the study then, get it over with.

When he enters his study, Darcy can see that leaving Mr Fielding's former patron to cool his heels for a few minutes has worked, he is sitting in one of the visitors' chairs at Darcy's desk, holding a cup of coffee and looking meek rather than enraged or violent.

The sound of the door alerts the man to his entrance, and Mr Zumpe quickly puts the cup down and jumps up, like a kid caught lounging in his father's office chair.

'Good day to you, sir, how can I help you?'

Of course Darcy is polite, he always is, and this fellow apparently only dares to be rude to servants, for he is almost officious in his demeanour. Maybe the size and the rich interior of Darcy's study have something to do with that as well, he cannot deny that has happened before.

'Mr Darcy, so good to finally meet you, your manservant told me I could sit in one of these chairs and he brought me coffee and some of the most delicious cookies I ever had.'

Manservant? That must have been Simon, trust his staff to find the right person for the job. Simon dressed in livery looks like a prince, it would be really difficult to snub him, especially in this room that exudes being the private retreat of the master of the house.

'I'm sorry, sir, I didn't get your name. And of course you are welcome to sit down, for my butler told me you had some urgent business with me.'

'Zumpe, sir, my name is Dietrich Zumpe. You may not have heard of me before, but I suppose Eric told you about me, so I guess you know my name at least.'

'Ah, so you're Mr Zumpe, yes, Mr Fielding did tell me about you, not by name, but ever since my sister started her lessons with him I've known of your existence, he always called you his patron and talked of you with great respect and even affection.

Mr Fielding has been very distraught with what happened, Mr Zumpe, and I hope you will forgive me for instructing my staff not to let anyone talk to him without my presence. His is a very sensitive nature, and until he gains a little confidence I plan to protect him against those that might offer him harm.'

Of course the suggestion that he might harm his former protégé angers Mr Zumpe, but Darcy is not impressed, remembering what the man did he feels himself turn cold, something a stranger might interpret as him being impassive, but a warning sign to those who know him.

'I know Eric is a sensitive man, Mr Darcy, because I single-handedly raised him from an illiterate boy to the gifted man you know.'

Cold as he is, Darcy sees no problem in pouring a little oil on the flames of Mr Zumpe's anger.

'I know you did, Mr Zumpe, and Mr Fielding turned out really well, a true gentleman who feels indebted to you for all you did for him.

As neutral observer I do wonder about your methods.

I suppose you meant well, raising him as protected as you did, and it undoubtedly gained him peace of mind to dedicate himself to his studies, but it did leave him virtually defenceless against adversity.'

And the flames roar to the ceiling, but still Darcy is not in the least moved by his visitor's anger. This man has no real clout, some impressive riches and a few moments by himself had him reduced to humility, his rage is supposed to be righteous, but Darcy knows he is in the right here and hears those flames rage without showing any emotion.

'You are questioning the methods of which you are now reaping the rewards? I knew those who let others work for their money were presumptuous, but this beats all!

I gave that boy everything, I paid for his education, got him a master in Prague, I even offered him the chance to marry my only daughter Louise, whom I love more than anyone in this world besides him.'

Now for the final act of this moving production. Only the scenery lacks to make it resemble a touching scene in the play they watched with Mr Fielding.

'And when he told you he couldn't love her except as a sister, you kicked him out, into the snowy streets of a London winter. A father's love can be harsh.'

And indeed the waterworks open, as Mr Zumpe breaks down and begs for understanding.

'I only wanted him to reconsider, I knew he'd come back and beg for forgiveness, and I would have taken him to my heart, to marry Louise and be part of our family forever.'

He really has no clue, this man, how can he not see that he tried to make a piano-playing slave out of a musical genius?

'Mr Zumpe, if you love him like a son, why didn't you just respect Mr Fielding's wishes and let him be Louise's brother and play his own work? If he is such a gifted man, why didn't you trust him to know what was best for his career? He is an adult, isn't he?'

Somehow, Mr Fielding's own opinion just doesn't matter to Mr Zumpe.

'I made him, Mr Darcy, have you any idea how much money I invested in him over the years? If you don't give him back to me, people will say you've stolen that money from me! Do you want them to accuse you of robbing a working man of his hard-earned savings?'

'So that is what Mr Fielding is to you. An investment. Not a living, thinking human being with a right to lead his own life, to follow his own ambitions, but a project you started up to promote your instruments, and that has now come to the point where it will start earning back all the money that it cost you.

Besides making your daughter happy.

You don't care even one bit that Mr Fielding has been desperately unhappy these last months, do you? You don't even know, because you couldn't care less what he thinks and feels. You profess to love him, but you have no idea who he is.

I will not give Mr Fielding back to you, Mr Zumpe, because I don't own him. When you threw him out for being honest about regarding your daughter as his sister, which is only natural since they grew up together, I took him in to save his life and his talent.

Where Mr Fielding lives, and what he does with his life from now on is his own choice. I have offered to help him become an independent man, who uses his talents to make an honest living, so he can be answerable only to himself and in time to the person he chooses to share his life with. I will not tell him what kind of music to play, or where to play it, or even on what brand of piano to play it. He is free to do whatever pleases him.'

'I want to speak to him, you cannot keep him away from me, Louise cries all day, she needs him, and who is going to test my pianos? Have you any idea what you are doing to me?'

Frankly, Darcy is getting fed up with this. One last effort to explain to the man that Mr Fielding is not his property?

'Mr Zumpe, let it be clear that you were the one who told Mr Fielding to go pack his things and leave. He does not want to marry your daughter, and he does not want to spend his life playing sonatas on your pianos.

He wants to become the best pianist ever, and he wants to be free to write down the music that comes to life in his mind, and give that back to the people. He has told you this before, and you did not listen but told him to go.

He did what you asked, and now you want him to come back, but not to do the things he wants to do with his life, but the things you want him to do for you. The things that made him desperately unhappy.

If you cannot understand that he wants to live his own life, this conversation is done, and you will have to buy a ticket to see him play from now on.'

Is there a little light starting to flicker in the man's stubborn brain?

'I have to speak to him. When I tell him about Louise, he'll come back to us, he loves us, you're keeping him a prisoner here, he wants to be with us. I will not leave until I've seen him.'

And Darcy can see he will do exactly that, this is not a gentleman, he doesn't care about dignity and good manners at all, he is used to getting his way, like a spoiled child in an adult's body. Elizabeth may be able to talk some sense in him, but he still won't understand that Mr Fielding has a right to feel hurt by his patron's way of trying to force him to do his will.

Maybe he does have to hear it from his protégé himself, and maybe it will do Mr Fielding some good to hear how unreasonable his former patron is even now, how selfish and how stubborn.

'Very well, I will talk to him and see if he is willing to meet with you. Please have another cup of coffee and some more of those cookies, I suspect he will take some convincing.'

Mr Zumpe does not look triumphant at all, but merely agonized. It's just incredible how some people can fool themselves, he really cannot see the matter from Mr Fielding's perspective at all.

When Darcy enters the drawing-room, three faces turn towards him. No-one speaks, but Elizabeth embraces him, which he answers with feeling, this will be very hard on poor Mr Fielding, after all he's been through already.

'He wants to see me, doesn't he?'

Darcy nods.

'He just doesn't get it. You won't be able to make him understand, but if you tell him you're done with him he'll have to believe it. He seems to think I'm keeping you against your will as some kind of prize. I'm so sorry to put you through this, Mr Fielding.'

'It needs to be done, Mr Darcy, or he'll make a fuss. No-one will believe him after the paper, I suppose people dislike him because of his stubbornness, and frankly, I fear it. He still has a hold over me, I owe him so much. I know he kicked me out, and I realise now he kept me as a servant or even a slave, for he never offered me a choice. But still I'm afraid I'll give in.

Will you stay with me through all of it, Mr Darcy?'

'I will, Mr Fielding.'

'Promise, Mr Darcy? This truly frightens me. But I need to do it if I ever want to be free of him.'

'Promise, Mr Fielding. I will not leave you alone with him, not even for a single moment.'

As Mr Darcy kisses his wife, to thank her for her moral support, this really affects him, so heartening, Eric gets up as if to head to his execution. He knows Mr Zumpe, he is not going to make it easy on Eric, he faces the loss of his investment and will try his utmost to save it.

A tentative touch on his hand causes him a physical shock, and he looks at Georgiana, who takes his hand in hers and squeezes it gently. They have had such a good time again already, studying together, picking out mistakes in each other's work, and learning about business accounts and all kinds of other practical matters together.

Fast friends, that is what they have become, in a mere one and a half days, despite the difference in their ages. But even gentle Georgiana seems more worldly-wise than Eric himself, he is only just starting to realise how little he has ever learned beside playing a piano, fortunately Mrs Annesley and Mr Darcy's valet have proven very willing to remedy that evil.

'Get some of your own back, Eric,' she whispers, 'go get him.'

He straightens his back and promises, 'I will. He kicked me out, and I'm glad he did. I feel as if my life is just starting. I will be back soon, Miss Darcy.'

She'll understand his not using her first name with her brother watching him.

He follows Mr Darcy to his study, but just before they enter he asks, 'Will you let me enter first, Mr Darcy? I think I need to make a statement here.'

Mr Darcy is not a man of many words. He merely nods and makes way.

Eric has never been in this study before, it's very impressive, and very heartening to have the full support and protection of a man who owns a study like this. In his town house. Eric can't wait to see Pemberley.

To his immense relief he doesn't feel love or guilt when Mr Zumpe gets up at the sight of him and holds out his arms to embrace him like a lost son, but merely suspicion and a bit of heartening anger. How dare he, after the things he said just before he forced Eric to leave the house!

'My boy, you're all right! Louise will be so happy to see you again! She's done nothing but cry since you left.

But Eric, why won't let me hug you? I've been so worried about you, they wouldn't let me see you, they probably never even let you know I tried to see you before. Please come home, my boy, we all need you.'

The nerve! To pretend nothing happened! The guilt Eric suffered, the anguish over having disappointed this man, it all seems such a waste suddenly.

'Mr Zumpe, I have only come to see you for a moment to tell you I am happy here, and free.'

'But Eric, you must come home with me, we need you.'

'You kicked me out! You told me to pack my things and leave. To come get my piano within two weeks, or you'd sell it to the highest bidder! You told me I'd never play for an audience again, not in London, not if you could help it.

You had me in agony, out of guilt and fear for the future.

And now you tell me you love me, and want me back in your life? How thick do you think I am?'

'Eric, please, I didn't mean it, none of it. I still want you to marry Louise, she's so unhappy without you, you love her, don't you?'

'I told you I love Louise as my sister, I can't ever marry her. I will tell her myself if she needs to hear it from me.'

'But she'll die of unhappiness, you don't want that, do you? You can just marry her, can't you, without loving her?'

'Mr Zumpe, Louise can never be happy with me. I'm driven by ambition, I pursue a goal at all costs, I would make Louise very unhappy, she'd come to hate me for ignoring her. And I'd despise her for not forcing me to pay attention to her, I need a woman with spirit, who can force me to do what pleases her from time to time.

And most of all, I will not be fettered anymore. If I will not reach my ambition of becoming the best pianist of my time, I will at least do my damnedest to try. Playing demonstrations for your customers is not what I was meant to do, and I will not do it.

You forbade me to play my own compositions, and I can see you still hate them. It doesn't matter what you think. You kicked me out, and now you will have to live with the consequences.

So accept reality and let go of your fantasy. I will not come back, I will not marry Louise.'

Finally. Finally the truth is sinking in, Eric can practically see it happen. And Mr Zumpe is not taking it well, he turns nasty.

'So it's true what the paper said, you've set your sights on Mr Darcy's sister. How much is she worth? How far will her fortune get you? Further than Prague?

But don't think for a moment that your life will be any different here, these nobles won't let you be one of them, they'll keep you in your place, and you'll be playing whatever they want you to play on their private parties, your life won't change a bit.

You just took my money and my family's support and love until you found a better place, using any excuse to flee your obligations to me and better yourself.

Well, I wish you all the best, but I'm afraid you're merely fooling yourself. You are nothing without me to direct your life. Your talent is the smallest part of the whole, I am the true connoisseur, and your compositions are just noise. A beautiful instrument being abused by an artist without taste or true knowledge. It must be a right chaos in your head, to have such mess come out. You have no idea what you are doing, and you will find out soon enough, but then it will be too late.

I was willing to take you back, if you played what I told you and married dear Louise to take care of you, but if you're so set on making it on your own, be my guest. I'm glad I kicked you out.'

'All right, I think I've heard enough. Mr Zumpe, I take it you are convinced I am not keeping Mr Fielding prisoner?'

Not waiting for an answer, Mr Darcy rings the bell and continues, 'Then I'll have my manservant show you out.'

Before Eric's former patron can even react, Simon comes in and picks up Mr Zumpe's coat, helps the startled man into it, puts the furry busby on his head, and invites him to come along. Was he listening at the door?

Eric really doesn't care, he feels wrung out and miserable, such vehemence and selfishness from someone he used to depend on and even love. But once Simon has led their visitor out of the room, Eric also feels a tremendous relief. That was it, his past is now really his past.

'I wish there was something I could say to make this easier for you, Mr Fielding, but I cannot think of anything that wouldn't insult someone you once cared for. Shall we join the ladies, or do you want a few moments to yourself to process what just happened?'

'If you don't mind, sir, I'd like to be in good company for as long as I can. I've learned so much already, I cannot begin to thank you for your kindness. I must admit I feel a bit caught, I've only just realised how dependent I am on you, but of course that is much to be preferred to being dependent on Mr Zumpe.

I'm afraid I was more like a slave than an employee, for I had nowhere to go at night, no life of my own. It will take some time to come to terms with that, and I dread your Christmas party, for Mr Zumpe is right in one thing: I was raised a gentleman, but I will never really belong among them, my schoolmates always let me feel that very clearly.'

Mr Darcy puts a hand on his shoulder, that is an incredible familiarity from a man like him.

'I beg to differ, Mr Fielding, I am very certain you will be accepted in our midst without any trouble. There is such a difference between your manners and Mr Zumpe's. His lack every class, yours are as gentle and dignified as those of the best of us. Ask Simon, he is a veritable gold-mine of information on the subject of manners and fashion, and he loves to instruct.

He changed Mrs Darcy from a rather naïve country-girl to a sophisticated gentlewoman in weeks. I dare profess that she is now more worldly-wise than I am, and I'm nearly ten years her senior and have lived in town almost half my life.'

'You have a fine sense of humour, Mr Darcy, I love being with your family, and I hope I'm not too much of a burden on you. Thank you very much for your support just now.'

'I'm sorry you'll probably never get to tell Louise the truth of it, Mr Fielding. I was thinking of what Mr Zumpe said about my sister, and I assure you I do not suspect you of any mercenary thoughts towards her. I don't think you will ever marry for money, you know yourself too well, you do need a woman who knows exactly what she wants, and who has a higher goal in life than to please you.'

Then Mr Darcy smiles knowingly, and adds, 'And I know for a fact that mercenaries have no say in the kind of woman they marry, they have to settle for whoever will hand them the money. You are a hopeless romantic, you will marry for love, and the music you will write about your love will stir the hearts of people of all layers of society.'


	48. Chapter 48

Chapter 58

They arrive in the drawing-room together, and this time Mrs Darcy does comment straight away.

'Oh, Mr Fielding, I can see it was bad. I'm so sorry for you, to have things end this way. Though I must admit I'm very glad you came back with Mr Darcy, I was half-afraid he'd convince you to go back with him and marry Louise.'

She is so sweet, and not condescending at all.

'Mr Darcy would not have let that happen, ma'am. He was ready to defend me.'

This only proves Mr Zumpe has no idea what he is talking about, saying Eric will not be accepted in this family.

Though his derisive comments on Eric's compositions sting. But frankly, if he wants to make his music public, he'll get plenty of comments like that, even scathing reviews in the papers. Better get used to them, there will be no escaping harsh criticism.

Georgiana invites him back to the piano, and neither her brother, nor Mrs Darcy object. As soon as he is sitting next to her, she whispers, 'I'm glad you didn't go back, though it must be difficult to leave behind everything you ever knew. We'll make you feel at home, yet, don't worry!'

Of course Eric knows she means to support him in a difficult moment, but still his heart skips a beat, to have her look at him like that. He knows it can never be, but since his love for her is going to hurt him anyway, he can at least enjoy their time together while it lasts.

To sit so close to her, to feel her hand brushing his as he plays an accompaniment, to have her correct his exercises, they do help, incredible to have a girl help him get rid of that nuisance, even if she is his most promising pupil ever.

Speaking to Mr Zumpe himself turns out to have been a turning point for Eric. He finds he can let go of his guilt and his sense of loss, his mood improves manifold and he is eager to learn new skills.

Mrs Annesley is the best teacher, taking an hour each day to brush up his French and mathematics, classes Georgiana joins, 'To stir up old knowledge for when Mr Lascelles visits,' and because they are useful for the rest of their studies: practical housekeeping.

Of course Mrs Annesley used to be a governess, and she must have been a very good one, her classes are never boring, though she in her turn observes that they are the best students she ever had, being sensible adults and not easily-distracted children like her usual charges.

But Simon is no mean instructor either, he lacks the usual deference servants of this house seem to have, and with his pleasant, easy manners shows them the practical side of a household this size.

First he gives them a tour of the servants' side of the house, the kitchen, the common-room, now very busy with hired staff, but also the boiler-room, the larder, the stock-room, the stables. It's almost the half the size of the house again!

When they have seen the goods in stock, and the amount of food and other supplies they use each day, he takes them to a little study, where they keep the books and the petty-cash. As he adds some charges to the petty account, he explains what he is doing, and with a broad smile he adds, 'This afternoon I'm doing the last of the Christmas shopping, it's always a glorious time for me, I get to buy so many presents in the master's name, I love it.

The funds for that will not come from the petty-cash, that is just for the household, I usually shop on Mr Darcy's account, or if I go to smaller shops, he gives me cold hard cash to pay with, which makes him one of the more popular gentlemen in town, most take an account even with the smaller businesses, then forget to settle it regularly. Some businesses have been know to go bust because of that.

Getting customers to pay will not concern you at first, Mr Fielding, I suppose you will start playing venues that hire you, at little risk to yourself, but if you become really well-known, you can hire a hall yourself and charge admission. That way the risk is yours, but also the profit.'

During their pleasant times together, Georgiana tells him what people to expect to attend their Christmas party.

'They're all rather nice, you've met Elizabeth's father, Mr Bennet. His wife is a bit noisy and rather foolish, but not mean or unkind. Elizabeth has four sisters, the eldest was married to his best friend, just last week, the middle two are single, Kitty is fun to be with and interested in Mr Lascelles, Mary is a year older and a great bore. She'll be in the library most of the time.

She will adore you, for she wants to be a really good pianist, but somehow she doesn't get ahead much. Maybe you can give her a few tips, I cannot seem to discover why she practises for hours each day and doesn't manage to improve.

Then there's Lydia, she's very much like her mother, but she will not be present, she's married to Fitzwilliam's worst enemy, so they have not been invited. I'll tell you the story some day soon, it involves me, too, and Elizabeth.

Elizabeth's mother's brother, Mr Gardiner, will be here with his wife and children. They are very nice, you'll like them.

Then there is Mr Bingley, of course, Fitzwilliam's best friend and now brother-in-law.

And two of Mr Bingley's college friends, Mr Lascelles, who has been invited since he seems to have a distinct interest in Kitty and would be an excellent match for her. His father was a refugee from France, so we'll be able to practise our French with him.

And Mr Manners, the nicest gentleman I've ever met, he kind of invited himself and because we all like him very much Fitzwilliam agreed.

He loves music, and books, though he is an avid sportsman as well. I guess you'll like him, for he is so very friendly, not stuck-up at all, unlike Mr Bingley's sisters, they are fortunately not likely to visit much anymore, they used to follow my brother around everywhere, and despised everyone else, including Elizabeth when Fitzwilliam first fell in love with her. They weren't very nice to her, so they're not invited anymore, a relief for they were always great bores anyway.'

That sounds like Mrs Darcy's family mostly, and since they aren't as rich and noble as Mr Darcy is, they will probably treat him nicely, at least to his face.

Those gentlemen may be something else entirely, and Georgiana seems rather taken by Mr Manners, which does cause Eric a little stab of envy. Mr Darcy would probably be delighted if his sister got an offer of marriage from a guy like Mr Manners, Eric wouldn't stand a chance.

She has been very nice to him, but something is different about her, she's so familiar with him, the shyness her confessed budding love for him caused her seems to have disappeared, she no longer shows any signs of feeling the slightest love for him. They have gotten so close, but their closeness mostly resembles that of siblings, it's way too comfortable for a forbidden love like theirs, it's as if Georgiana sees Eric as some kind of brother, closer to her age than her own brother, and more suitable to spend a lot of time with, most of it indulging in their mutual love for the piano.

But they've been back together for less than two days, it's really too early to draw conclusions.

Of course Eric still practises by himself, on his own piano in his own room, and surprisingly he finds new motivation in his changed situation. He dares spend a lot of time on his own pieces, learning them by heart but playing slight variations each time. And of course he thinks of the future a lot, will he still try to pursue a career as a performer? He can write letters to his former master in Prague, to ask whom he would recommend to study under. Eric is certain that Mr Darcy will be willing to fund a stay abroad if Eric can prove his skills will benefit greatly.

But Eric finds the thought of leaving Georgiana behind unbearable, half a year without her? He'd die of loneliness, especially since he still has some hope of her returning his affection.

Another option would be to settle in London and to perform as much as possible. He'll not find a master to teach him here, Mr Zumpe tried but no-one was willing to teach a competitor to become an ever better player. There is a very lively music-scene, though, and according to that shocking article in the newspaper, he has a promising reputation already.

And there are his own works, having them performed with an orchestra is impossible without renown as composer, but performing them himself for an audience is not.

In the meantime, he'll learn about money and houses and staff, a very important step towards a life of his own. Does he really need such a luxurious life? Food is fuel, he likes to eat but dainties have no special attraction to him.

Servants are useful to do the work he cannot do himself, or doesn't want to spend the time doing, but he could do with very few, no need to keep horses, or curl his hair, just cleaning, washing and cooking. He can open his own door and keep his own accounts.

Why not choose independence for now, stay with Georgiana until he knows whether he has any chance of ever winning her? If he breaks his heart over her, he can still go abroad, he'll have something to look forward to.

The next day, on Christmas Eve, their guests arrive.

Elizabeth is pretty satisfied with their family as it is now, she always had a thing for Mr Fielding, and having him around all day has only confirmed that superficial liking. He is not only very easy on the eye, but he is such a gentle soul, even more sensitive and likeable than he was as Georgiana´s teacher.

But at Christmas, a party of four is a bit meagre, and it is much better to have a lot of people over than to have to stay in someone else´s house herself, that has become very clear to her in the last two weeks.

The Gardiners will return to their own house each evening, but the Bingley's, imagine Jane being a Bingley now, though they have their own house in town, will be staying over, they have no children yet to sleep better in their own beds, and it´s more fun to all be together. Elizabeth supposes the bachelors will also stay with them, though Mr Manners undoubtedly has a town house of his own.

Just after lunch, the butler announces the Gardiners and their children, fresh faced and spirited with just a really short trip through town.

Georgiana cannot imagine they will have a nice quiet family gathering with four young children present, but Mr and Mrs Gardiner clearly have experience with this situation, for they have brought a maid especially for the children, who soon settles them with some of their own toys in a corner of the large drawing-room. Elizabeth greets the children heartily, of course they are her cousins and she knows them well, but to Georgiana they are a kind of weird life-form, noisy and unpredictable, and she submits to a greeting with her usual reticence.

They are polite enough, and dressed like little gentlemen and little ladies, but she has no experience with children whatsoever, and no desire at all to gain it. She flees to her piano as quickly as good manners allow, only to be received by Eric with a malicious smile.

'You looked so funny, Georgiana,' he remarks quietly, 'shaking hands with those perfectly behaved little children as if they were going to bite you any moment.'

And he laughs merrily to rub it in.

Georgiana cannot be angry with him, it's such a treat to hear him laugh with true delight, even if it's at her own expense. But of course she cannot let him get away with it, oh no, that would be so wrong.

'All right, Eric, you show me how it's done, if you're so handy with those little noisy unpredictable things.'

And he takes her challenge! Without blinking twice, she may add.

He's such a handsome man, she thinks for the thousandth time, as he walks towards the little group without hesitation. And well dressed, always, even on the most ordinary occasions, without spending undue attention on his looks.

Though Simon must have gotten to him somehow, she suddenly realises, for he is even more immaculate than usual today. She's never seen him with a cravat tied this well, or with his hair actually styled, though very subtly. No, her brother's valet has offered his services to help him make a stunning first impression on their guests.

To think she didn't notice before now, he must have been disappointed. But it's not his looks that make her breathe a little faster whenever she is close to him, it's his kindness, and his talent. And he is so smart, he picks up everything Mrs Annesley or Simon explain, almost instantly.

Of course he has to greet Mr and Mrs Gardiner first, and Fitzwilliam introduces him to Elizabeth's aunt and uncle. Georgiana cannot make out what they say exactly, but she is sure no-one would ever know from his person that Eric was not born a gentleman, he is so charming and such a feast for the eye.

'Aren't you afraid you'll wear him to a thread by looking at him so often?'

A soft, only slightly ironic voice sounds right by Georgiana's ear.

'Nothing escapes you, does it, Elizabeth? How can I keep from looking at him? He's so handsome, and so likeable.'

'I was just kidding you, Georgiana, you've behaved admirably, both of you. Have you come to an agreement yet?'

'It's been two days, Elizabeth, and besides, I wouldn't know what to say. He cannot speak to me, and I dare not say anything to him but normal, friendly things. I'm very proud of myself that I manage to act normal around him, and only simper and daydream about him when I'm certain not to be caught at it.'

'You're right, love, wait a minute, what's he doing now?'

Apparently Elizabeth expects him to be of Georgiana's conviction, that children are a dangerous unknown species, to be avoided at all cost.

But Eric marches towards them all by himself, of course they're all distracted by their toys, but still, as soon as he speaks to them they'll all look at him.

And he does not just that, he actually kneels between the whole pack of them and says something that makes them all laugh, even the youngest, and the nanny, a very pretty girl with a finely chiselled face and lovely chestnut curly hair.

'I dared him to go out there and greet them. He made fun of me being a tad uncertain among children.

But there were four of them, you know, and just me. Though the nanny seems to have them well in hand.'

'Well, Georgiana, seems you have an excellent taste in men, look at him!'

The eldest two girls have shaken hands with Eric very politely, and are now back to their drawings, but the two boys are more interested in wrestling their new friend, who is not afraid of the sturdy little chaps at all and gives as good as he gets for a few minutes.

When neither party is ready to quit roughhousing yet, the nanny nonetheless calls the boys to order with a few kind words. Eric gets up, straightens his coat, then bows to the nanny and introduces himself to her as well, undoubtedly excusing himself for exciting her charges a bit too much.

She's flustered by his attention, of course she thinks he is a gentleman, she cannot know Eric doesn't yet make the difference between staff and visitors, if he'll ever accept it. Somehow Georgiana guesses he'll always treat everyone with respect.

Fortunately Eric doesn't show any reaction to her blush and stammer, or Georgiana would be jealous, she's so petite and so pretty.

'Jealous, Georgiana? I'd be, too, if I was in love with such a handsome man.'

To prove her sister she does not mind her teasing, she observes, 'You are, Elizabeth. Only he was single for ten years before that, so you knew he was rather picky.

Do you think Simon helped Eric dress today? He looks even more ravishing than usual, look at his cravat, and isn't that a shaking dog hairstyle? Though Eric's hair is a bit long to do it justice.'

'I do think you're right! So nice of Simon to help him for his first meeting with a large party of guests here.

But Georgiana, I'm sure that a man who is good with children must be a good man. Hold on to this one!'

That is easy for her to say! Georgiana may have acknowledged her feelings for Eric, but meanwhile he seems to have changed into her brother! A kind, entertaining brother, but not the hankering admirer he used to be. What if he finds her childish? Or spoiled? They've come to know each other so much better, he may have been sorely disappointed by her true character, he may have been in love with some ideal he conjured up, projecting it on a girl beyond his reach.

He may be a hopeless romantic, only wanting to yearn for a girl he cannot have. Of course he doesn't know Fitzwilliam has as good as given his consent, to him she must still seem beyond his reach. Well, that ruins that ridiculous theory at least.

Elizabeth must have seen her expression, for she strokes Georgiana's hair gently.

'I'm sorry, Georgiana, I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sure everything will work out in the end. I've felt unsure with love for a few months, and it was not a very nice feeling. I'll be more understanding.

Oh, he's coming back over, and he looks positively triumphant. He's going to rub it in mercilessly. I'll leave you by yourself, not to spoil his fun.'

And indeed, she is off.

But before Eric can do more than nonchalantly observe, 'Those were very well-mannered children,' the butler enters to announce a new party of visitors.

Apparently Jane and Bingley are arriving together with Mr Lascelles and Mr Manners, this is an important moment for both herself and Eric, and suddenly she feels rather nervous about the two of them meeting.

Almost as if she has been playing the one against the other, or has been untrue to either of them, which is ridiculous, for in fact each of them knows where he stands with her. Why the nerves, then?

Is she afraid Mr Manners will show disdain towards Eric? It would hurt Eric to be treated arrogantly, but not very much, she thinks. And Mr Manners is way too nice to do such a thing. Oh well, she'll soon find out.


	49. Chapter 49

Chapter 59

Damn. That is all Eric can think of when the new guests arrive.

He has just impressed Georgiana by accepting her challenge and proving to her he is a hero, not afraid of children at all, Mrs Darcy watching him playing with her cousins as well, treating the nanny with respect, everything a man ought to do.

And right at the moment he hopes to be rewarded for his bravery and chivalry, with an admiring glance from Georgiana, or a soft look, or maybe even a little touch, since Mrs Darcy leaves as soon as he is on his way, the famous Mr Manners arrives.

Rich, respected Mr Manners, damn him.

And when he comes in, the guy is incredibly handsome as well! Not very tall, but dark and exotic looking, with a perfectly groomed moustache, very well-dressed, Eric hates him on sight, though he knows Georgiana didn't tell Mr Manners she was starting to feel for him. She told Eric, quite explicitly actually.

Still, that seems more like a fantasy than a blissful truth by now, he must have dreamed she stroked his hair and kissed him, ever so softly, full on the lips.

He hangs back a little until all the others have exchanged greetings, Mrs Darcy's sister is indeed as beautiful as her reputation, she still seems to have the extra glow of her recent marriage. Her husband, Mr Darcy's best friend, is the epitome of friendliness, not just in his behaviour, but in his looks as well.

Their other friend looks like a wrestler in a priest's uniform, plain faced and simply dressed, but broadly built and friendly looking. Somehow, he inspires instant trust in Eric, thus the priestly association, for in fact his clothes are very well-cut to a fashionable pattern, it's merely the colours that look formal and uninteresting.

Eric doesn't remember the name, just that Mrs Darcy's other sister likes him very much.

It's obvious these people know each other well, and Georgiana kisses Mrs Bingley and Mr Bingley heartily. Then she shakes hands cordially with Mr Manners, not at all as a special friend, more as a passing acquaintance.

The priestly man gets a more familiar greeting, as if she knows him better than Mr Manners, but he probably inspires people to like him with that peculiar air, so very hard to name, charisma is probably the best approximation.

Right after she greets the last man, Georgiana looks around rather nervously, she's looking for him, that is obvious, for as soon as her eyes find him, she smiles and comes to fetch him from where he was waiting for the right moment to be introduced.

'Come Mr Fielding,' she says in a lively voice, she seems very glad to see this party, 'Let me introduce you to our guests.'

For some reason, she starts with the priestly man, of course Mr Darcy is talking to his friend Mr Bingley, and Mrs Bingley is stormed by a clutter of children, they sure love their cousin!, but she leaves Mr Manners waiting.

'Mr Fielding, this is my good friend Mr Manners, and Mr Manners, I'm so excited to introduce you to Mr Fielding, my piano-teacher and the best pianist in London, maybe in all England, wait until you hear him play, you'll just die!'

Wait a second! This is Mr Manners, not the handsome guy?

And Mr Manners is a good friend, and Eric may be the best pianist in England, whose performances may kill the overly sensitive? And when did Georgiana turn into a raving adolescent? Eric cannot get his head around all this information at once, and is totally stunned for a moment.

'Mr Fielding, I'm so very glad to meet you! Miss Darcy has told me so much about you and your extraordinary gift, I almost feel like I know you already. I'll gladly take the risk of attending one of your performances, if the occasion presents itself of course, I come from a very healthy family.'

He is so nice! How can Eric hate him if he's plain and incredibly friendly? It's not fair!

But Mr Manners isn't done by far.

'Miss Darcy, I thought you had to be exaggerating, such talent as you described combined with the looks of an angel, that cannot be true, I thought. But you were entirely accurate!Mr Fielding, you are extraordinarily endowed, handsome, polite, and gifted. And possessed of an excellent taste in clothing, I'm afraid I envy you.'

'Thank you, sir, for your kind compliments. Though I must admit to accepting some help from Mr Darcy's valet this morning, to make an impression on so many well-bred visitors.'

'Ah, the renowned Simon, another Adonis, Miss Darcy did warn me she was surrounded by handsome men, and still I practically begged Mr Darcy to invite me over. I'll feel plainer than ever this Christmas, but still I'm so glad he indulged me, I can't wait to get to know you, Mr Fielding, but most of all, to hear you play.'

'You'll be thoroughly fed up with music within the week, Mr Manners,' Georgiana observes happily, 'since Mr Fielding came to live with us that poor piano hasn't had a moment of rest, we both need to practise constantly, though Mr Fielding has his own piano in his own apartment, of course he composes, too.'

Well, Mr Manners certainly shows no sign of jealousy at Georgiana's enthusiastic praise of her piano-teacher, he must either be a saint, or totally self-confident, and Eric guesses it is the last.

But now it is time to be introduced to the other gentleman, the handsome man, Mr Lascelles, and he is as polite and friendly as Mr Manners, Mr Zumpe was clearly wrong about these people, they show no disdain of him at all.

If anything, Mr Bingley is even nicer than the others, he obviously has known Georgiana for years, and he observes, 'Mr Fielding, I've been eager to meet you, just to let you know I'm stunned to hear the progress Miss Darcy has made since she started her lessons with you. She played on our wedding, with an orchestra, and I felt as if my house had changed into a concert-hall. I saw people cry with emotion over her performance.'

'Thank you so much, sir, it's very heartening to hear my work has success, though Miss Darcy's talent and application made my job easy.'

'I've heard the story of how you came to live here, Mr Fielding, and I'm very sorry you've been treated so badly. But I assure you, Darcy will do right by you, he's the best man that ever lived, I'm so proud to be his friend.

Though I simply cannot not believe your playing puts Miss Darcy's in the shadow, as he said. It can't be, she's perfect!'

'You better believe it, Mr Bingley,' Georgiana comments happily, 'for it's true. I can play the piano quite decently, but when Mr Fielding hits his first chords, I instantly realise how much I have yet to learn. Which is why I am very glad to have him living with us, of course.'

And Mrs Bingley is as nice, such a sweet lady, it's difficult to imagine the spirited Mrs Darcy being her younger sister, but they obviously are siblings indeed, there is so much love between them. Though fortunately they do not make Georgiana feel excluded, in fact, Mrs Darcy seems very aware of her sister-in-law, keeping a very close eye on her, more so than usual, maybe because she is surrounded by Mrs Darcy's family and might feel left out.

But she need not fear that, Georgiana is constantly attended by Mr Manners, so much so that Eric starts to feel a little superfluous. Well, he cannot expect her to neglect her visitors to benefit him, it would make a really bad impression.

And besides, Mr Darcy must want her to marry Mr Manners, who is obviously interested in her, and seems a perfect match despite his plainness. Somehow it doesn't matter in him, his gentle manners and that certain presence he has, make up for lack of personal beauty entirely.

Just before Eric starts to feel totally forlorn, Mrs Darcy comes to his rescue, taking him along to talk to her uncle and aunt, very nice people who know how to keep up an interesting conversation.

And then the rest of the party arrives, Mr Bennet, Mrs Bennet, and their two daughters Kitty and Mary.

Mr Bennet receives Eric heartily, and introduces him to his wife and younger children. Kitty joins Georgiana and Mr Manners with Mr Lascelles, and then Eric can see where Georgiana learned her adolescent ways, they must have spent the entire wedding this way, there truly is no place beside her for Eric until this party has broken up.

The prospect of losing Georgiana to her noble visitor saddens him, but in fact he could have known it would happen, Mr Manners is her equal, and there is nothing for Eric to do than be glad he is obviously an admirable man who will treat her well.

It's time to put in some practise, rubbing shoulders with the gentry is not going to make him independent, Mr Darcy was so right to have his piano fetched immediately. No-one sees him leave, not even Georgiana, and when he pulls the door shut behind him he really has to swallow hard to control his disappointment.

But still Mr Zumpe wasn't right, they do accept him, he just doesn't know what to say to them.

'Mr Fielding! Eric!'

It's Simon, and he's running to catch up.

'Are you all right, Eric? You seem downhearted. They weren't unkind to you, were they?'

'No, they were perfectly friendly, even the two unrelated gentlemen. I just need to put in some practise, can't sit around and chat all day.'

The handsome valet is checking him out carefully, his lack of deference is still refreshing, and Eric feels free to treat him as an equal. For now, Simon is giving Eric more useful information on being a gentleman than any real gentleman he's met, excepting Mr Darcy of course, who mostly provides an excellent example.

'It's not just that, you are sad, I think I know why, but there is not much I can do beside sympathise. I know how you feel, I've been there. Still are, frankly.

We take the morsels of kindness that are offered, and use them to keep our hearts alive. I envy you for being able to use your feelings to create beautiful music. Mine just go to waste.'

He doesn't sound truly miserable, fortunately, but somehow Eric has a feeling Simon does understand, and he feels a bit better for it.

'Thank you, Simon, I hope you're not suffering yourself. I'll take your words as advice and put my feelings into music, as usual when this mood strikes me. And thank you for your help dressing, it felt good, secure.'

'It was my pleasure, Eric. When they ask you to play for them, I'll be listening at the door.'

Some things in this world, Eric will never understand, and one of them is the strict separation between classes in this house. Mr Zumpe may be an obstinate ass, but he does not expect his staff to act so humble towards him. Though he did expect Eric to obey him in everything, but then, he never paid Eric for his work.

In the safety of his room, Eric allows his feelings a little bit more space, but since he sits in front of his piano and actually practises for an hour, they do not get much chance to overwhelm him, his practise is so intense it takes over completely.

The piece he is studying is very difficult, he has chosen it on purpose, to be able to get through the holidays if they turn out the wrong way.

And it works, he really cannot think of Georgiana during practise, except when he warms up his hands and fingers, and remembers her touch as she explained the exercise. And when he takes a little breather after an hour, mentally and physically drained, he feels her hand on his hair, and her lips on his, and most of all, remembers her blessed confession that she has this weird new feeling stirring inside her, urging her to touch him.

But even if Georgiana does love him, her life is not her own to live, Mr Darcy will decide whom she must marry, and with Mr Manners clearly eager to secure her, Eric doesn't stand a chance.

There is nothing left for him but to put his feelings into music, heart-rending tones of a purity he has not managed before. But he does not write them down, not yet, he is certain to play them again and again the coming days, weeks, months, until he knows them by heart.

Georgiana does see him leave, but what can she do? She cannot run after him straight away, she promised to behave as if nothing is going on.

Mr Manners does have a certain right to her attention, he is a guest, and she was at the piano all morning with Eric. This is not at all going as she hoped, and a lot as she feared, he'll be feeling miserable, over her. Or maybe he just felt like practising? He puts in even more hours at the piano than Georgiana herself, and this morning they were mostly enjoying themselves, not hard at work.

She has to know, she cannot bear this. If she steps into the hall, she can hear him play, if he is sad or disappointed she'll hear immediately and she'll not hesitate to step into his room and tell him the truth. No, she cannot, she'll kiss him again if he is sad, and this time he may not be able to control himself if she does. Oh, how and when will this situation resolve itself?

Excusing herself to her little group of friends, she steps out into the hall, but she cannot hear any music. She needs to get closer to his room, and she goes up the stairs until she can hear him play.

Her knees turn to butter, for he is playing the piece he is currently studying, not laden with emotion, but with plenty of feeling, and above all so incredibly virtuous and difficult, for a moment she is just totally overcome with admiration and a desperate wish to be part of this, to be part of his life, to be allowed to watch him practise music like this, to hold those magical hands in hers, to snuggle and kiss the person who can dedicate his life to this.

But it is practise, and to really excel he needs to work this seriously for at least three hours each day. He cannot spend his entire afternoon socialising, and Georgiana understands that. She will not disturb him, she will prove to him she can live with an ambitious musician, leave him in peace when he is working, and play with him when he has time to spend on her. He must not think she is one of those girls who think the world revolves around them.

She turns around resolutely, and nearly runs into Simon, instantly feeling caught.

'Simon!'

'Is he all right? He seemed put out, Miss Darcy, I thought I'd check on him, I suppose he felt left out. Maybe a little more than that?'

Simon will never know his place, but somehow their household needs him for just that reason.

'He was put out after all? I hoped he was merely practising, this is his new project.'

'Believe me, Miss Darcy, he was not happy when I talked to him just now. Maybe you can put a little heart back into him?'

'I can't go in now, Simon, he's working, it's very bad manners to disturb a pianist this deeply in concentration. Besides, I can't anyway, when he's feeling bad. It affects me, so much so, I'll do something foolish.

What can I do, Simon? I promised Fitzwilliam to act normal while we have guests, after that I have permission to follow my feelings.'

Simon is staggered.

'He gave you permission to follow your heart? With Eric?

Miss Darcy, have you any idea how rare that is? How? Why?

I'm sorry, Miss Darcy, I'm overstepping myself. Again.'

He makes ready to leave, but Georgiana needs help, now!

'It was Elizabeth, she got angry at him. I told her I had come to love Eric, and he somehow knew without telling.

But what do I do, Simon? I don't want Eric to be unhappy, but I promised my brother to act normal to Mr Manners. I told him I didn't love anyone yet, but this just happened, I felt it happen, love came into being inside me just like that. I'm so confused.'

'Oh you poor thing! Don't worry, Miss, true love can stand a week's adversity. You spend some time on Eric tonight, he'll have to come to dinner, maybe you can include him in your little group, he's your age after all. Let him know you like him, they'll ask him to play, and he'll want to play your sonata together. Say something nice, something small, you don't want him to faint on you.

Will you remember? Include him in your group, join him in playing, say something nice, not too big, just to keep his hope up without making him simper.

Everything will be fine, I'm sure.

This is just so romantic, I'm going to dream very sweetly tonight. I like him very much, Miss Darcy, and you'll be so happy together.'

'Don't tell anyone, Simon! I promised my brother!'

'Don't worry, Miss Darcy, I can keep my mouth shut like no-one else but Fanny, she may be slightly better than me, considering her age and experience. That reminds me, will you please send for her tomorrow? She's a bit lost for not having maid's duties, and tomorrow is a party after all.'

'I will, and thank you, Simon. You did a great job on Eric. I better go, I will be missed.'

But she does feel a little better, she knows what to do, and Simon never even doubted Eric's love for her.


	50. Chapter 50

Chapter 60

And indeed, Eric does come down for dinner, looking only slightly the worse for wear.

Georgiana doesn't even need to include him in their group, for Mr Manners immediately invites him to join them, and asks questions with such interest that Georgiana almost feels guilty he hasn't a clue that Eric has already won her heart.

Sitting between the two of them she feels very comfortable and almost happy, though she does worry whether she is succeeding in not spending more attention on one or the other.

But even with her between them they manage to talk to each other very well, Mr Manners really treating Eric no differently from his own friends, he is such a good man, and such excellent company.

'Mr Fielding, I missed you just now, before dinner. I was hoping you'd tell me more about your travels and your ambitions.'

Eric swallows visibly, but answers readily, his voice quite normal.

'I was in my own apartment, practising. True excellence comes with a steep price, Mr Manners, one I've learned to pay when it's due, or suffer the consequences. You may have noticed I don't drink wine with dinner, I hardly ever do, and I never use any other spirits, it influences my application, so I steer clear of its use.

I practise at least three hours every day, but usually more, not counting the time I teach or amuse myself or others with music, nor the time I spend composing.

Actually, composing is very bad for my virtuosity, stopping, writing things down, mind directed inward instead of at my hands, after an hour of composing I need to practise an extra half hour at the very least, to get the flow back.

But I never have to force myself to practise, I love to forget the world around me and become music.'

'I suspect that will make finding a life's partner rather difficult for you, Mr Fielding, few women will accept being in second place for their husband.'

Eric doesn't even colour or start, he merely makes a sad face and observes, 'Frankly, Mr Manners, you are totally right, it will take a woman with a strong will to separate me from my instrument on a regular basis.

And on top of that I find myself in another challenging situation, having been raised a gentleman I have an appreciation for highly intelligent, self-assured ladies, but I have neither the name, nor the fortune to attract one of those.

The very thought of marrying a sweet, but uninformed girl got me into my current situation, my patron took offence at my refusing to marry his daughter and asked me to leave.'

Changing his expression forcibly to a happy one, he adds, 'But maybe I should be glad, for now I am truly among a class where I hope my efforts at achieving excellence will be appreciated, even if I will be beneath the ladies' notice as a consequence of my birth.'

'I'm afraid you are gravely mistaking our ladies, Mr Fielding,' Manners observes with humour, 'I'll bet you they will be adoring you in droves once you've made a name for yourself.

Would it be too much for me to hope you will do us the honour of playing for us tonight, Mr Fielding?

And I'd like you to consider a proposal for a public appearance. I am the patron of a charity here in London, and we traditionally organise a benefit each year, the New Year's Eve Ball, a large event that most of the upper layers of society choose to attend.

We offer plenty of opportunity to dance, of course, with a respectable orchestra, but I was thinking of hiring your services to provide us with some more elevated entertainment just before we take leave of the old year. It will be a magnificent opportunity for you to make an indelible impression on the upper-class, for nearly everyone in the habit of going out will be there.

Of course I'll invite Mr Darcy and his family as well, so you'll have some familiar faces to support you.'

Eric is stunned.

'But Mr Manners, you forget you haven't heard me play, yet! Wouldn't it be more sensible to postpone your kind invitation to the moment you know my playing is any good?'

'Your modesty does you service, Mr Fielding, but Miss Darcy's praise is enough for me. I have heard her playing, if you are even better, as she says herself, I am convinced I will admire your performance, as will all the people I expect to attend this event. Will you at least consider it?'

'Of course I will be honoured to accept your invitation, Mr Manners, you offer me a way into your own society, I would be a fool not to accept, and very ungrateful and impolite besides. But I beg you, should my playing not be to your satisfaction, please do not hesitate to let me know, it's important for me to know what people really think.

With our host's permission I'll play for you right after we join the ladies in the drawing-room.'

And with a particular look at herself, 'Will you do your share of the entertaining, Miss Darcy? I'd like to play that sonata together, you've worked so hard to master it.'

'I always feel such a bungler after you've played, Mr Fielding,' Georgiana says truthfully, it always makes her feel clumsy in public, when they are together it doesn't matter, he has worked hard for years to acquire his greater proficiency.

'Miss Darcy! How can you say such a shocking thing?' Mr Manners exclaims, 'you're the best pianist I know!'

Georgiana sees no reason to be astonished by what she said, and Eric doesn't either. It's the truth, isn't it? As Mary didn't want to play with Georgiana present, so Georgiana feels Eric's superiority.

'So far, Mr Manners, so far,' she calmly replies, 'in an hour or so you'll know a much better one. I'm not ashamed of my own skills, in fact I'm very proud of myself. But to play in one session with a master is a certain way to disappoint oneself. But since we're going to play together, I will join you, Mr Fielding.

And I'm sure my brother will heartily consent, he knows Mrs Darcy adores you, and he'll not risk another quarrel.'

Let them contemplate that!

The ladies soon retreat, Georgiana and Kitty catching up for half an hour until the gentlemen join them in the drawing-room. Though the gentlemen may have discussed the possibility of an informal concert, the ladies haven't, but nevertheless an expectant silence descends on the whole group, centring around Eric.

Somehow this kind of undivided attention doesn't bother him, he's obviously a performer, relishing the anticipation of his audience.

This is Georgiana's moment, before he starts to play she will find a way to hearten him, show him she loves him, give him hope as Simon advised.

Since he asked her to join in at a certain point, and he may need someone to change the music sheets for him, she sits on the chair that is placed very close to the piano, they use it together so often the chair has become a fixture, and it is a very cosy place, and most important of all, very private.

Now, what to say or do to cheer him up but not make him swoon?

His face lights up as he sees her sitting right beside the piano, and on impulse she reaches out for him with her right hand.

With a quick look about him, the drawing room is rather filled-up with people after all, all looking his way in expectation, he notices how the piano hides Georgiana from view completely, and he dares take it in a two handed clasp.

His hands are so strong and muscular, and warm, no, do not imagine them running through your hair right now, you're supposed to say something heartening.

'It's still there, Eric, ever more awake, please don't doubt me when I spend time with our visitors.'

For a moment, his face shows the mixture of love, hope and agony he must have been feeling all day.

'Thank you so much, Georgiana. I'm ashamed to say I did feel some doubt today, he's so damned eligible, and so nice!'

Then he releases her hand, and since no-one can see her here, and Eric is busy placing his music-sheets on the stand, she touches it to her face as if his hands are still holding it.

As soon as he starts playing, she knows Simon's advice was sound, and her judgement accurate. His music exudes hope without becoming sentimental, and Georgiana just knows everything will turn out all right.

That night, lying in her beloved's arms, Elizabeth looks back on a pleasant Christmas Eve.

While the adults were enjoying their coffee, the little Gardiners and their nanny helped decorate the house with Christmas greens, freeing aunt and uncle Gardiner to attend Mr Fielding's concert for an hour.

'You're rather quiet, beloved, is that a good sign?'

Ever since their first quarrel, Fitzwilliam has been even more considerate of her, and she has found it as hard to tease him. That is not as it should be, but she supposes their usual comfortable intimacy will soon return.

'It is, my love, just this morning I was thinking we didn't really need a large party of friends to enjoy Christmas, just the four of us were enough company to be very cosy together.

But I really enjoyed the evening, and I'm looking forward to tomorrow. Weren't my little cousins well-behaved? When I asked Fanny to help me dress tomorrow, she praised them, and their nanny, for helping with the decorating. She has several younger siblings, I believe.'

'They are indeed very nice children, but I hardly even noticed they were absent, I was very pleasantly engaged observing your family and our new friends during Mr Fielding's performance. Even your mother was totally taken, especially with his own composition, she really seemed to feel it. Poor Mary, too, I really felt for her, though I suppose hearing a true master cannot be as humiliating as hearing a girl her own age excel. Georgie did so well.'

'Did you see anything of jealousy in Mr Manners when they played together like that? I was of course staring at Mr Fielding in rapture, I never thought of watching his audience instead.'

'I did not. I watched him regularly, he can be an important connection to Mr Fielding so I really wanted to know how he experienced Mr Fielding's own work especially, but I saw nothing but stunned surprise and sincere admiration during the virtuous pieces, and outright exaltation when Mr Fielding played his own work. Even when Georgie joined in for the sonata, Manners showed no sign of envy at the two of them being so close and so attuned to one another.

That did affect me, Elizabeth, I think I'm fast coming to terms with matters as they are. I can see it in everything now, I suppose they were meant for each other, though they weren't all that close the rest of the evening, they behaved very decently. I almost thought Mr Fielding fled the room at a certain point, when Mr Manners claimed Georgiana just after his arrival.'

'That is because he doesn't know, my love. I asked your sister how things were, and she said nothing had changed between them, yet, and wouldn't until our visitors were gone away. So I guess he'll have a difficult time for a few more days. She's taking your request very seriously.

'He won't be truly unhappy, will he?'

Poor Fitzwilliam, still remembering his own months in the clutches of love-sickness. Rather heartlessly, Elizabeth replies, 'It's just a week, maybe two. If he cannot handle that, he is too sensitive anyway, his first bad review will kill him.'

All at once his hold on her tightens, and he nuzzles her throat and neck and breathes in her ear.

'Oh Elizabeth, did I tell you lately how much I love you? I get all weak inside when you're having me on, I just cannot resist it.'

'I thought I was rather mean, actually.'

'You could never be mean, beloved, believe me, I know, I was very closely acquainted with Miss Bingley for years, and most other ladies I knew weren't much better.

I know you like Mr Fielding a great deal, my love, and the better I get to know him, the more I agree.

Do you think Mr Lascelles is serious in his attentions towards your sister?'

'I do hope so, it certainly seems that way, and I like him a lot, too. Imagine Kitty possibly marrying so well, and with such a superior character. Do you think we're just lucky as a family?'

'I suppose there must be more to it than that, but of course we're all connected to Bingley somehow.'

'It's that easy?'

'Not entirely, no, or I would have married Miss Bingley or one of those other ladies who kept chasing me. There must be something special about the three of you...'

'Our utter lack of education must indeed have made us irresistible.'

'Maybe a formal education does raise most girls to be affected and arrogant, Elizabeth, without developing true depth of knowledge or character. There is a certain realness to you that I suppose Jane and Kitty also possess. And being pretty also helps, of course.'

Soon afterwards their attentions to each other take on a totally different character, and they forget all about their sisters and guests in passion.

Neither Georgiana nor Eric find sleep quickly in their lonely beds.

Eric is torn between triumph and doubt, if he hadn't seen for himself that his entire audience was totally absorbed by his composition, he would have found out afterwards, for literally every person present complimented him on his virtuosity and his ability to make them feel the music as well as hear it.

None more so than Mr Manners, of all people. Eric just cannot help liking him, it's not merely his undisguised admiration of Eric's abilities, it's also the way he treats him as a complete equal, without the slightest hint of disdain or envy.

'Mr Fielding, you are going to make the entire population cry with emotion over your music. It is so incredibly beautiful and so powerful. First you'll win the upper class, and once they are at your feet, the middle class will be demanding to hear you play.

And after that the working people, they will flock to your concerts, for I'm sure they will understand your music, it's so real!

May I please help you reach the top? I have connections everywhere. It would be an honour to me!'

Mrs Bennet raved to him, 'Mr Fielding, your beautiful music made me cry, just like that. I've never cried over music before.'

And Mr Bingley and his beautiful lady, professing they finally understood why he was called a master.

'I never did believe Georgiana when she said you were much better than her. Now I do.'

And dearest, sweetest Georgiana, to let him know virtually under her brother's eyes that her feelings for him were still stirring.

This night, he will forget his doubts, and go to sleep with the image of himself playing in a beautiful hall, laden with people, bringing his audience to exultation, and being tenderly embraced by his talented beautiful lady afterwards. Though frankly, the image of sitting at the piano together and playing pleases him even more. Thus sleep takes him.

Georgiana merely remembers the touch of Eric's hands on her own, his fabulous accompaniment of the already virtuous sonata, and his sweet smile after his concert. The rest of the evening he is claimed by relatives and friends wanting to rave over his remarkable gift.

Well, if she wants to spend her life with him, she'll have to get used to sharing him with an audience.

But when they play together, it will be worth it, for they will be more one than any couple who cannot share a passion that all-consuming.

On Christmas Day they all share presents. Mr and Mrs Gardiner arrive just after lunch, bearing lots of gifts. Their children are ecstatic with anticipation, of course, challenging even their superbly competent nanny to keep them quiet.

Mr and Mrs Bennet have their goodies brought into the drawing-room by Johnson, and Jane and Bingley seem to have their own secrets. Darcy has had Simon do some last minute shopping for their three young male guests, a trip to Darcy's favourite London store for the gentlemen, and for Mr Fielding a gift of Simon's own choosing.

Of course the boxes for the staff for tomorrow have been hidden well in one of the dusty abandoned chambers on the top-floor for several weeks already. There is just the chocolate to add to each box, a bottle of wine and a cured ham will not spoil in three weeks in an unheated room in winter, they been carefully stowed on top of useful gifts Simon knows the servant in question will appreciate.

Similar boxes have been shipped off to Pemberley, too, the servants there expect their yearly box of gifts as much as the staff in London.

Darcy's cousin Fitzwilliam is expected today, they have not seen each other since Darcy's wedding, and have written only rarely, they used to see each other for weeks at a time and Darcy feels a bit guilty for neglecting his favourite relative.

But when Johnson announces Colonel Fitzwilliam, and he enters the room with cheeks flushed from riding through the still-freezing weather, it is clear he doesn't hold that against his own favourite cousin at all.

'Darcy!' he calls out as their eyes meet, and they hug heartily.

'Fitzwilliam, you look great!'

Darcy cannot wait for the two of them to find an hour to chat privately, his cousin looks well, though he seems a bit less self-assured than usual, but of course there are few people he knows in this group, just Georgiana and Elizabeth actually, even Bingley and Darcy's cousin have never met in person before.

The next person the Colonel greets is of course Mrs Darcy, and he obviously has trouble finding the right level of familiarity towards her. They used to be very casual, though always correct, in Hunsford, but he can hardly call Elizabeth Miss Eliza any longer.

Being a very well-bred and open person, he merely laughs at his discomfort, then just tries.

'Mrs Darcy, that sounds so formal, when I remember chatting with Miss Eliza as if it was yesterday. Oh well, I'll get used to it, in fact I've had months already to do so.

You look very well, Mrs Darcy, married life agrees with you, I'm glad to see both of you so happy.'

'Colonel, it's been too long since we last met. I hope you will not let so much time pass by before you visit us again.'

Elizabeth liked his cousin, and it's clear she wishes him well.

'I suppose I had my reasons for that, but I'll do my very best to enjoy my visit. Do you still play the piano?'

'Hardly ever, Colonel, we've two much more accomplished pianists in our midst. Maybe I'll dare tackle some folk songs later, if you all sing along no-one will hear my bungling.'

In Hunsford, Darcy would have contested that remark vehemently, but though he still loves Elizabeth's playing, he can well imagine she no longer likes to do so. Though Georgiana says Elizabeth could be very proficient, if she practised more often, and more seriously.

'I have messages from my father and our aunt, Darcy, maybe we can exchange news for a bit tomorrow, or late tonight?'

'Sure, Fitzwilliam, we may squeeze in an hour between the gifting and dressing for dinner. I suppose Elizabeth won't begrudge us the time to catch up. I'm so glad to see you, it's been such a long time!'

'Fitzwilliam, love, will you do the honours introducing the Colonel to my family, while I fetch our gifts? I think everything else is ready, and the children look fit to explode with anticipation and nervousness.'

That is a great idea, but what's up with his cousin? He seems flustered, and more than a little our of sorts. Still, he gains control over posture and voice quickly enough, and merely observes dryly, 'I see I have some work to do, yet. I thought I was ready for this visit, but it seems I'm not quite.'

What does he mean? Did he forget to bring gifts? That is no problem, is it? None of Elizabeth's family will have counted on him, which is why Darcy has asked Simon to pick an especially nice gift for his cousin. And besides, there are obviously plenty of gifts to go around.

'Did you forget to bring gifts? That's no problem, Fitzwilliam, you know that, don't you? You don't even know any of them personally beside Georgiana and Elizabeth.'

'It is of no great concern, Darcy, I'm fine once again, and looking forward to meeting Mrs Darcy's family and you other guests. I've asked your butler to hold on to a few trinkets I got those of you I know, they're right in the hall.

Maybe you can bring them in with your own gifts, Mrs Darcy? I presume you will have someone help you carry your own?'

'You are spot on, Colonel, I was planning to let Fitzwilliam's valet do the hard work for me, and we can certainly bring in your presents as well.'

And with that, she leaves the drawing-room without even saying goodbye.


	51. Chapter 51

Chapter 61

When she returns, the introductions are over, and they all sit down with coffee and a slice of excellent berry pie with cream. Then the gifts are exchanged one by one.

The four children of course are spoiled beyond a sensible parent's wishes, but it seems the Gardiners have counted on that, for they have brought only useful gifts for their own offspring, and have saved their true efforts for their adult fellow revellers, including not only Georgiana, but also their children's nanny.

Of course it would have been hard for her to be among them all the time and not receive a gift of her own, and she is immensely pleased with her box of beautiful, brightly coloured crayons. No children's toys these, they're meant to be used by an artist, this girl must have an inclination to draw quality work.

Darcy never used to consider that staff might also relish creative work, he always saw those skills as accomplishments for noble ladies, and actually rather scorned them because they often were a waste of resources when a lady was netting an ugly, shapeless purse because if was fashionable to do so, but without talent or inclination to ever actually use the thing.

But since getting to know Mrs Annesley, he has started to realise that the real talent is often hidden among those who have to work hard for a living, and to whom creating beautiful things is a matter of internal drive, not boredom or impressing others, taking up their precious spare time and more of their hard-earned financial resources than they can really afford to spend on their art.

These seem to be the real artists, and for the Gardiners to gift their nanny a precious set of quality crayons is a token of real appreciation for her achievements with their four children, and Darcy is very proud and pleased to find that his new family knows their servant well enough to be able to gift her with the very object that makes her as happy as their children, though a lot more guarded of course.

Simon has brought in a little saddle bag belonging to Darcy's cousin, and several of their own packages, sharing the load with Elizabeth. Simon has in fact chosen most of them, shopping for several days before they went to Hertfordshire, blissfully happy to plan and compare and buy.

The only gifts Darcy has bought himself are those for the eager sportsmen, it's always a great pleasure to hunt for novelties to impress one's friends with, and this year his favourite store in London was rife with them. Bingley and Mr Bennet are of course the logical beneficiaries of his quest, with Simon picking up Darcy's choices from the same store for Mr Manners and Mr Lascelles at a later time.

Simon himself has chosen a superb set of finest quality cravats in the latest fashion for Mr and Mrs Darcy to gift Mr Fielding.

Of course they are virtually impossible to tie by oneself, but they're meant for use at concerts, and Darcy will not be able to stop Simon from helping Mr Fielding dress on those special occasions.

As a lot of gifts exchange hands, opposite to what one would expect, Mr Manners gifts Georgie music instead of valuable jewellery. She unwraps a beautifully bound compilation of the most important works of Bach, the famous German composer, originally meant to be performed on a harpsichord, something Mr Manners may not have realised.

Nonetheless, Georgiana is very happy, Mr Fielding can probably help her play the music on the piano-forte, a cosy way to spend several hours together.

And Mr Fielding presents her with a small, beautifully wrapped package that reveals a silver comb with tiny blue stones set in an intricate pattern resembling a kingfisher bird. It's the world upside down to Darcy, one would expect the pianist to gift music, and the land-owner jewellery.

But both gifts are well-received, as is cousin Fitzwilliam's little silk bag with bathing salts from Bath. He gifts Elizabeth a similar one, and she thanks him profusely, making him blush.

Slowly the truth starts to dawn on Darcy. His cousin has still not entirely come to terms with Elizabeth's marriage to Darcy, he used to be quite attached to her though he knew he had to marry a woman with a fortune of her own. A tiny part of Darcy is glad fate decided to favour him with being first son, and not his cousin, or Elizabeth would surely have married his cousin, since she truly hated Darcy at the time.

Though Darcy as second son possibly wouldn't have been as offensive towards her.

No, that's way too confusing, he cannot think like that. Better support his cousin while pretending not to have noticed anything peculiar in his behaviour, to make it easier on him.

The number of presents exchanged is slowly diminishing, and Darcy forgets all about poor Fitzwilliam in excitement over his fair lady's reaction to his own gift for her. She will be stunned, hopefully in a good way.

Finally he judges it's time, and brings out a rather heavy, elongated package from a secret hide-out in an ornamental buffet in this very room, and hands it to his beloved, who receives it with surprise at its weight. He dares swear she has no clue what it contains, it's a ludicrous gift for a lady, but to Darcy it symbolises his dedication to her independence, proof he considers her his absolute equal.

Removing the gift-wrapping slowly, wondering aloud what such a large, heavy package might contain, his beloved wife uncovers a brand new, state of the art hunting-rifle, a lighter model he has had especially made for her.

'I'll teach you how to use it once we're at Pemberley, my love.'

She loves it, he can see it. Not just the gift itself, but also the message the gift contains, his trust in her abilities, his sincere wish for her to thwart the rules of conduct keeping English ladies stuck to the house. To join him, yes, and any other gentlemen that may be visiting, in their sports as much as she likes and maybe dares.

After embracing him tightly, she manages to speak again.

'Thank you so much, my love, this means the world to me. I don't know whether I'll prove able to shoot anything, but I so appreciate your acceptance. I love you.'

When they are done, they spend the time until dinner playing simple folk tunes on the piano, and Elizabeth not only participates, but initiates the fun, a very special moment after all the overwhelming music Darcy has heard for days, nearly all day.

Of course Kitty cannot help dancing, those songs demand one to be active, and soon others join in, the little Gardiner girls each with a gentleman, and Georgiana with, oh my, with Mr Fielding, dancing with him for the very first time ever.

He's very elegant indeed, checking out Mr Manners quickly Darcy can see him watching the pair with interest rather than envy. He seems to rather enjoy the picture they present, they are a beautiful couple indeed.

But there are too many ladies sitting down, and Darcy invites Mary to dance, which to his surprise she accepts rather graciously. She's not a bad dancer at all, and she seems eager to talk to him, a novelty!

'Thank you so much for allowing me to browse the library all morning, Mr Darcy. You have a great selection of books, though I missed a thorough representation of religious works, you seem to have only the most important ones, and those mostly recent editions.'

'I'm afraid neither my father nor my grandfather were very dedicated to religious reading, Miss Mary. This library, and that of Pemberley of course, is the work of many generations, and it may have been that my predecessors were negligent in certain fields, as I no doubt am in other subjects.

Did you like the music yesterday afternoon?'

'Certainly, Mr Fielding is a very gifted player, his virtuosity is without equal, and your sister is coming on magnificently. Though I must admit that I find Mr Fielding's own compositions somewhat lacking in structure. And isn't it the fate of mankind to bear life's hardships and be thankful for its pleasures? Why express all those feelings into such embarrassing detail?

Something seems to be lacking from those pieces, they're so chaotic and different. I preferred to hear him play the work of more stable composers.

Still, I wish I could have such a master at Longbourn to teach me, don't get me wrong, I don't doubt his talent, and it's clear he is a gifted teacher.'

She's not a kindred spirit, that much is clear, apparently she does feel the emotion in Mr Fielding's works but is somehow unable to appreciate it. Still, the poor girl cannot help being the real black sheep of her family. She must lean towards Mr Collins' branch.

'Say, Mr Darcy, do you think Kitty is going to be married to Mr Lascelles?'

Though Darcy does, he cannot tell a teenage girl, it's by no means certain.

'I certainly think it is a possibility, Miss Mary. Would that please you?'

'I don't know, he hasn't shown any signs of the innate French fickleness so far. But my sister is so very shallow, if he does revert to his father's people's behaviour, she will not be able to check him. Though it would be an excellent establishment for her, and she's even started to learn French. I can of course speak French with Mr Lascelles fluently, I've been studying the language from my eleventh year, though that does not mean I agree with the laissez faire attitude of the French, they cannot be good Christians, being Catholics mostly.'

What can a simple English land-holder say to that?

'I like Mr Lascelles a great deal, he seems very smart, and very well-mannered. I would gladly welcome him into the family.'

'Mr Darcy, what I really wanted to ask you is, why? Why would Mr Lascelles choose Kitty over me? She's fickle, shallow and she knows nothing. He's smart and developed. Why didn't he like me better? I speak French, play the piano, I have read hundreds of books on religion, music, history, I read the newspaper so I know about politics and I can run a household. What is wrong with me Mr Darcy? You're a man, and you're smart and have this huge library, can you tell me?'

Oh dear, what's he gotten himself into now? It's not as if he's ever been a paragon of sociability.

'Miss Mary, though I certainly think a truly accomplished young lady should have an extensive knowledge of all the things you mention, most young men seem to mostly appreciate a sweet face, lively manners and an inclination to dance at any and all times. Do you agree with me?'

She nods, and replies, 'I cannot deny it. So you think I should wear such elaborate gowns, dress up my hair and act lively?'

'No, Miss Mary, I think pretending to be someone else won't help. But smiling approvingly and dancing a bit more cannot do any harm, while staying relatively close to yourself. And I suppose there must be men with an inclination to be studious, though I cannot think of any in my acquaintance right now.'

And now, change the subject quickly.

'So Miss Mary, do you ever read novels?'

Soon after this conversation, it is time to dress for dinner, and Darcy and his cousin take an hour to talk in private.

Fitzwilliam starts with his messages, his father sends his love and wants to know how his nephew is coping with married life. He also wants to invite Darcy for a smashing party, 'his words!' Fitzwilliam says, at the end of summer.

'Of course you are to bring Mrs Darcy and Georgiana as well.

Aunt Catherine hopes that you have come to your senses by now, marrying such a shameless hussy. Again, her words. I didn't tell her I'd have traded places with you in a fraction of an instant. She wouldn't understand.

Now, Darcy, don't be angry at her ravings, you know she really loves you and had such hopes for you. Now she has nothing, she misses you like no-one else and you're supremely happy.

If she were ever to see Mrs Darcy, she'd eat her words, for Miss Eliza has really grown into her position. She looks like a goddess in that dress, I envy you so much.'

His cousin's words do manage to make Darcy less angry at his aunt's insults, he is right, she is the loser, and Darcy is the winner, Elizabeth is every bit the lady, and aunt Catherine is a lonely old bat.

'Anne was worse in every way, health, conversation, spirits. Aunt Catherine blames you, but father laughed when I told him and said only someone destitute would have her in the first place, to inherit the estate, for no children would ever survive past their first year even if she managed to get any.

You know for a moment I thought of getting into her good graces, but that would make me worse than a mercenary. I'll accept my fate, I'm doing well professionally and with war imminent I may make my fortune yet in a less despicable way.'

'You know I never thought of her health attracting mercenaries, but I suppose aunt Catherine is counting on guarding Anne from people like that. And it's likely our aunt will survive our poor cousin, harsh though it is.'

'Speaking of guarding, Darcy, where'd you get that gentleman pianist from? I never knew you for a patron of the finer arts? I didn't dare ask him, he looked so dignified.'

That is genuinely funny, and Darcy does not check a merry laugh.

'Mr Fielding's parents are actually cow-herds on some nasty, windy moor, Fitzwilliam. He was raised a gentleman by a well-known piano-builder, to test and promote his handiworks and help sell them abroad. But the pupil turned out a bit too gifted for his patron and got himself kicked out for refusing to marry the guy's sweet but simple daughter. And for writing his own compositions.

Brilliant compositions, we all agree, except Miss Mary Bennet.

We met him when Georgiana was looking for a teacher, I wrote to you about that, remember?

'Yes, I remember. I'd have sworn he was a gentleman of more than impeccable descent. But as I said before, birth is solely a matter of chance, this merely proves it. Do you still believe our own class has a monopoly on sense and manners?'

'Don't forget talent. No, Elizabeth cured me of that, with help of a stable-boy and his wife, who taught me to really understand a horse, and my housekeeper here, who makes the most beautiful show-pieces in embroidery, and of course Mr Fielding, who can move even my mother-in-law to tears with his concerto. No, Fitzwilliam, Elizabeth has changed me, even more than life as Mrs Darcy changed her.'

'Good for you, cousin. But aren't you afraid Georgiana will fall in love with this pianist?'

Darcy must have betrayed his feelings unconsciously.

'I see, she already has. And what are you going to do about it?'

'Nothing. If they come to an understanding, I'll give them my permission to marry, and I hope you will do the same. If not, I guess they'll wait until her twenty-first birthday or elope to Scotland.'

Now he has managed to shock his much more open minded cousin.

'Darcy! To think I'd ever see the day that Fitzwilliam Darcy coolly blackmails me into allowing his sister to marry a cow-herd on the threat of having her elope to Scotland!'

'Mr Fielding is not a cow-herd, Fitzwilliam, he may be the most gifted pianist of this country, and if Georgie loves him, and can face the idea of living on nothing but her own fortune, it's her life, and she should live it as she thinks best.'

A shrewd look, followed by a knowing little laugh.

'This reeks of Mrs Darcy's influence, your aunt will kill you! Even my father will raise an eyebrow, or maybe even two.

But I salute you, cousin, you're doing the right thing. Do you really think he's that good?'

'I do, and Manners agrees. He knows music, and he knows our peers better than me, he says Mr Fielding is going to be really huge.'

'Mr Frederick Manners, I've heard of him, though nothing but good. He'd be the perfect match for your sister, though I must say she's turned out stunningly handsome, as is your pianist, and poor Mr Manners certainly isn't.'

'I wouldn't call Manners poor, he's the most self-assured and charismatic man I've ever met.'

'But still Georgiana likes her teacher better.'

'He was in love with her for months before she fell for him. He was quite a demanding teacher, I think finding out he was also human did the trick.

Mr Manners, by the way, told Georgie he'd like to convince her to marry him, but she has said from the start he doesn't seem to really love her. Not beyond the way we love her. I agree with her.'

'Darcy, you've really changed, and for the better. I still envy you Miss Eliza, but you're good enough for her. I congratulate you on your excellent choice and I'm incredibly happy for her, too. Please don't be angry or jealous if I have trouble controlling my feelings sometimes, it's a matter of time before I'm on top of this. She won't even notice.'

That is an illusion, and Fitzwilliam should know better.

'She already has. She played the piano for you, ever since sharing a home with Georgiana and now Mr Fielding as well, she will only play under strict orders or prolonged begging. No-one forced or begged her just now, she did that for you, to show you she knows and cares, and to give you support.

I'm not jealous, we're more one than ever, we've survived our first fight getting even closer because of it.'

'That was over Georgie! Admit it, Darcy!

I'm glad I agreed to consent to her possible marriage, or I'd have your lady wife to deal with. And I wouldn't even profit from the making up.'

'It was special, but still I'd rather not have quarrelled. We've been a bit too careful ever since. Though I'm hoping I made up my part today.'

'By gifting her with a gun? I suppose I don't even want to know what that signifies.'

'Merely that I see her as an equal, even if that means having her ride astride and hunt with me.'

'Darcy, your frankness disarms me, and I'm surer than ever the two of you will be the happiest couple in England. Forever. Can I visit again and join you this summer?'

'Of course you can, Fitzwilliam, you're my favourite relative, I realise why you haven't been in touch lately, but I hope to see you more often from now on.

You've always been such a kind listener, cousin, if I can ever return the favour please do not hesitate to confide in me.'

By now it's time to dress and go downstairs for dinner, but Fitzwilliam will stay for a few days, and they will have more time together, also with Elizabeth present.

Dinner is the best Darcy has ever had on a Christmas day, and not because of the food, though that is perfect as well, even Mrs Bennet is really impressed by Cook's efforts. But the real difference with all his other Christmases as far as he can remember, is of course the presence of a beautiful, intelligent woman within that special place in his heart, and by his side.

He will never be lonely again on any holiday with his beloved so close to him. Maybe she'll soon start to tease him again, though Christmas may not be the perfect time to do so.

And the rest of the company assembled here is such a treat as well, Bingley now conversing with cousin Fitzwilliam, Mr Manners entertaining the Gardiners, though probably not with anecdotes of the tricks he pulled at college. Even Mr Fielding seems totally happy, sitting between Georgiana and Jane, Darcy cannot catch their conversation but it must be entertaining, for Jane shows her ravishing smile frequently.

Darcy really wonders when and how his sister and Mr Fielding will come to an agreement.

The only one who seems a bit out of sorts is Mr Bennet. He is seated on Elizabeth's other side, with Kitty and Mr Lascelles next to him, and next to that Mary and Mrs Bennet, who is rather more quiet than Darcy is used to from his mother-in-law.

'What is the matter, Mr Bennet,' he dares ask, 'weren't your Christmas presents to your liking?'

His father-in-law does smile, but it's clearly an effort, he's not in the mood for jokes.

'I must admit, Darcy, that I had a vague hope Mrs Annesley would be dining with us today. I know she is in your employ, but one would never have guessed it, she has such a mind, and such excellent manners. I suppose I couldn't have chatted with her freely anyway, with Mrs Bennet present.

I guess I knew it wasn't possible to have a good long talk with her, but we had such a good time when I last visited... One rarely meets a woman with such delightful conversational powers.'

'And since I took your most beloved one from you,' Darcy comments, looking at Elizabeth with infatuation, 'maybe I can make up a little?

By requesting Mrs Annesley to take an hour or two off each day, starting tomorrow, to do some needlework in the library? Your lady wife never visits the library.'

'But Mary does, though I don't suppose merely sitting there and chatting would be really offensive. We're both sensible adults, and married, after all.

If it pleases Mrs Annesley to chat with me for an hour or so, I'd be delighted, Darcy. Thank you. There are plenty of interesting, intelligent companions here, but somehow it would please me immensely to talk to Mrs Annesley again.'

Problem solved, though Elizabeth and himself do exchange a look of wonder at Mr Bennet aching to talk to a married lady companion. Still, she is rather special, she has had an interesting life before she came to work for them, and her art and talent for teaching and housekeeping clearly set her apart from other women.

After a fabulous dinner, with magnificently prepared dishes, but most of all with perfect conversation with Georgiana and Mrs Bingley, Eric feels very satisfied. He has been able to practise all morning, has had a good afternoon with his gift to Georgiana well-received, and having been surprised with an unexpected present himself, a beautiful set of cravats clearly chosen by Simon.

Of course the master of the house doesn't choose those gifts himself, at least, those not having to do with hunting, Simon has a much better taste and actually enjoys shopping. Eric will need some instruction in wearing these, for they are different from the ones he uses himself.

And now the ladies have retreated to the drawing-room while the other gentlemen take their brandy.

Eric finds himself in the company of Mr Manners, who obviously enjoys his brandy very much, but respects Eric's reasons to not use strong spirits of any kind.

'Mr Fielding,' he starts, 'I have a large favour to ask of you, it involves playing the piano, but not as we've heard it yesterday, nor as I'm looking forward to seeing my peers enjoy it on New Year's Eve. May I speak freely? I have to admit, this matter requires your absence from this house for a day and a night, and your secrecy, for you will probably see some things of a delicate nature.'

That is mighty intriguing, and since Eric yearns for some adventure, but in a safe way, he graciously replies, 'I'm all ears, and I promise I'll keep quiet.'

Now Mr Manners looks about him to see the other gentlemen busy with other things, and he puts an arm on Eric's shoulder in a very familiar way.

'Mr Fielding, I have a friend who is unable to leave his house for a few months, and our mutual friends and I really want to liven things up a little for him, to strengthen his mind for a task he is trying to bring to a good end, and at the same time check up on him without him noticing what we are about.

My friends have arranged most of the things we need, but I'd like to ask you to come with me and provide the music. I suppose you can play anything you set your mind to?'

'You mean reels and folk-songs?'

'And the more raucous ditties, shanties, airs, you name it. Or slightly more tantalizing tunes, for a particular kind of dancing?'

Understanding a little more of the entertainment to be provided for this friend, Eric nods.

'I can play virtually anything on a piano. My patron sometimes entertained business-relations, as he called them. I have an idea of what to expect.

Though I'm surprised to hear they're known among gentlemen.'

Still looking as if this is a perfectly normal conversation, Mr Manners laughs heartily as he observes, 'They aren't, generally. I'm sure Darcy would be shocked to hear or see anything of the sort, and I suppose even Bingley, whom I have been intimately acquainted with for more than a decade, will have nothing to do with them.

Which is why I will be making up an excuse to take you with me, and why you are to remain quite secretive yourself.'

'Count me in, Mr Manners, you're doing me a great favour letting me play on your New Year's Eve Ball, and besides, I'm kind of curious.'

'And you don't drink to excess and almost certainly have no interest to be involved in the proceedings, which is why I am keen to take you. Thank you very much, Mr Fielding, I'll ask Darcy to allow me take you with me for a day and a night, and I'll let you know what time we leave on Wednesday. You'll love it!'


	52. Chapter 52

Chapter 62

The next day is Boxing Day, and while Mr Fielding teaches Georgiana on his own piano, as Fitzwilliam promised his sister he could, and the rest of the visitors enjoy a lazy morning in the drawing-room, library or billiards'-room, or a hearty walk through the still-frozen city, Elizabeth and her beloved have decided to do the traditional gifting of their staff in person in the common-room in the servants' quarter of the house.

The temporary staff and their visitors' servants all receive their share of the chocolate and a bottle of wine, but the regular staff find something more in their yearly box.

Simon really has outdone himself, finding even Mrs Annesley an extraordinary gift, special threads of real gold, silver and copper, worked with some mysterious process to make it suitable for needlework.

She recognises it instantly and fails to keep back a little cry of surprised pleasure, Simon laughing out loud in triumph.

'I'll tell you where I got it, for your future commissions from very wealthy customers.'

But then it's his turn to be surprised, for at the bottom of his box is a jeweller's package, containing a lovely silver watch on a chain.

Mrs Annesley has chosen it for him, it's different from the usual style, much less intricately worked and more elegant in shape, and Simon is totally overcome.

'Such a beautiful little piece of work! Thank you so much for a princely gift, Mr Darcy, Mrs Darcy! I never had a clue, Mrs Annesley!'

Of course Fanny and Bob each receive a gold ring from the spoils of their search of the unused rooms, a wedding band for the other.

Though work goes on around them, they get a few moments to talk with each member of their London staff, and find the atmosphere in the common-room much improved, everyone is busy but considerate of the others, and they have high hopes that the bullying is a thing from the past due to Cook's and Mrs Annesley's vigilance.

When they return to the drawing-room, they run into Georgiana, who is on her way there as well. She looks a bit frustrated, so Elizabeth offers to have a little private talk, as Fitzwilliam returns to his guests.

Choosing a little sitting-room as likely spot for confidences, like her sister has at Netherfield, they sit down in a comfortable chair, and Elizabeth cannot help asking, 'I suppose your expression means you haven't talked intimately yet?'

'No, we haven't! I wish we had, but Eric was all business today, eager to teach, eager to play together for fun afterwards, very cheerful, but more like my brother than my admirer.

I didn't dare start, suppose he doesn't love me anymore? Suppose he thinks I'm childish having gotten to know me better? It'd be so embarrassing!

And besides,' she says with exasperation, a sign she really is very young still, 'it's the man who should propose, not the girl!'

Suppressing a laugh, this is very serious to Georgiana, Elizabeth observes, 'I understand, Georgiana, it does seem a bit indecent, though you know he will not presume to propose to you, you're so much above him it would be beyond impudent to aspire to your hand, you're his patron's sister!

You'll both have to take a little more time, once our visitors have left you can give him a bit more encouragement in public. It'll probably take a miracle to make him propose, though, I'm afraid it will be up to you in the end.

Take heart, Georgiana, he is not grown indifferent to you, he's merely trying to make things a bit easier on both of you. That just proves he is a true gentleman. You try to enjoy your time together, and everything will end as it should.

How can it not?'

That satisfies her sister, and they go back to the drawing-room to entertain their guests.

The next day, Darcy finds himself addressed by Mr Manners, who asks to see him in private for half an hour. Darcy is surprised, but takes his guest to his study, where they can talk without being disturbed.

Manners seems a bit nervous, which is totally uncharacteristic of him, and he starts to talk as soon as they have seated themselves in a cosy sitting area close to the hearth.

'Darcy, I dare say this will strike you as very forward, with your sister turning only seventeen next month, but she is mature beyond her years.

I want to beg for your permission to pay court to Miss Darcy, I just know I will not find a more suitable lady if I were to scour the whole country as well as the continent, she is beautiful, intelligent, and so very sweet in all her ways. I know she is still very young, but I'm willing to postpone a marriage until she is at least eighteen.'

Despite Manners' obvious attentions to Georgiana, this still surprises Darcy, especially since he has shown so few signs of being smitten with her. Now Darcy has learned to recognise it, Mr Fielding's passion for Georgie is so obvious, and so endearing to behold. Either Manners is not as sensitive, or he's not in love with her at all. Either option would make Georgie's happiness with him less than certain.

Darcy's doubt somehow seeps into his first observation.

'My friend, thank you for your kind offer, I certainly appreciate it, but Georgiana has entrusted me with the information that before I invited you over for Christmas, she told you herself that she was not ready to love any man yet.'

Of course that is no longer true, she's in love with another, and Darcy is tempted to just tell Manners. But he has promised to let Georgie decide her own life, and telling an eligible suitor she is in love with someone else is certainly a life's decision, and not his to make.

'I know, I know, Darcy, and I don't want to force her into anything. I merely ask your permission to try to persuade her it would be beneficial to both of us to connect our families with a marriage. I have reasons to suspect her opinion on love has changed somewhat, and I think in time she may look upon me with some favour.'

Is he fooling himself? Darcy doesn't think so, Manners still doesn't sound like an ardent suitor but more like a businessman handing over a profitable proposal, ready for a signature.

Still, Darcy's hands are bound by his promise to Elizabeth, he cannot decide Georgie's future, not even by telling this man he wants his sister to marry for love, not expedience. There is but one thing he can do.

'It is not my decision to make, Manners. I know Georgiana likes you a great deal, though I don't think in the way you hope. But only Georgiana herself can decide on whether she wants to marry you, the ultimate decision is hers. So I guess I will have to direct you to Miss Darcy herself for an answer to your question. Does that satisfy your request, Manners?'

Too bad, really, that Georgie is in love with another, this is such an admirable gentleman, Darcy feels sorry for his certain disappointment. Manners may simply be too much of a gentleman to show his feelings much, his showing little love for her may not mean he doesn't feel it.

Imagine, Georgie having two admirers, and two such men. This is the right moment to evaluate his own feelings on the situation, wouldn't he rather have his sister marry this man, a gentleman of the best family, with an estate and maybe even better connections than Darcy himself?

Another surprise, for his answer is no. Somehow, Manners' involvement in a college clique considering itself above the law has made Darcy a bit hesitant towards him. At least in a matter as important as marriage, which in his sister's case means handing the man of her choice the power over her life as well as her fortune.

And Mr Fielding's sensitive, gifted nature makes him especially suited to Georgie, though with him she will have to live differently from what she is used to.

Unless they stay with Darcy and Elizabeth, as Bingley's sisters do with their brother. Mr Fielding is Darcy's protégé after all. It would make Elizabeth happy to have a sister about all the time, Darcy guesses, and frankly, he really likes Mr Fielding's company a great deal himself.

'It does, Darcy, thank you for being altogether frank with me. It's clear you do not yet give me a large chance of success, therefore I will probably wait a bit before I ask Miss Darcy the same question.

I do have another question, of a more practical nature, to ask you.

Can I take Mr Fielding with me on Wednesday for some last moment arrangements with regards to the party? I'll return him on Thursday.'

That is a bit unnerving, why would he ask Darcy's permission for such a venture? Mr Fielding is an adult who can make his own decisions, isn't he?

Darcy cannot help but wonder whether Manners' attitude towards Mr Fielding would change radically if he knew the man was in love with Georgiana? And his love answered? But again, there is only one possible reply.

'I don't own Mr Fielding, Manners, he can go wherever it pleases him. I'm willing to help him further his career, but I don't want to claim him. He's had plenty of that with his former patron. So, again, you should ask him.'

This obviously pleases Manners, and he continues.

'That is interesting to know, Darcy! I have asked him, and he wants to come.

I didn't realise you don't claim him at all. Does that mean you won't mind if I take an interest in his career? Help him organise concerts, introduce him to people, talk to those who have influence in his little world?'

'By all means, Manners! I want to help him but I have no clue where to start. If you want to use your connections to give him a head start, I'll be more than pleased. But in his interest, I do feel obliged to ask whether you will do this without laying claims on his person. He will not benefit by landing in another situation where he feels fettered and bound to do another's will.'

'Darcy, you must be the most upright man I know. Not just setting the man free, but guarding him from other slave masters.

You can trust me, I am so impressed by his gift and his person that I want to help him, much like you, except that I already know people in places that matter to Mr Fielding. But I promise I will not claim his services against his will or even against his interest.

My efforts will bring him closer to his life's goals, without obligations towards me.'

'Then I cannot but encourage you in your efforts on his behalf. Thank you, Manners!'

'And thank you, Darcy. We will be off tomorrow, and back on Thursday. And I hope to see you at my ball on New Year's Eve.'

'We'll certainly be there, I wouldn't miss Mr Fielding's first public concert playing his own work for a million pounds.'

But the rest of the day, Darcy is a bit distracted by Manners' request, and the following conversation. Whatever did he mean by something having changed in Georgie? Did he notice she's in love? Does he think he can transfer her love to himself?

However, Darcy will not interfere, he will trust his sister to tell him if something bothers her. And tonight he will tell Elizabeth all, she'll probably have something sensible to say about it.

Of course she cannot explain either, and Darcy is starting to doubt whether he has heard it right. It doesn't really matter anyway, though Elizabeth is rather surprised at Mr Manners making a move this soon, they both trust him to act with honour and in Georgiana's interest. And of course she has good sense as well, she'll not accept an offer of marriage while she's in love with another man.

'I'm proud of you, beloved,' Elizabeth says, 'you were tempted to tell him the truth, but you didn't, leaving it up to your sister. It would have been awful if Mr Manners knew your sister wants to marry Mr Fielding before the man himself does.'

'They still haven't reached an understanding?'

'No, Georgiana said he was all correctness this morning during their lesson. They're both shy, and Georgiana is very traditional all of a sudden, says he has to speak first. I told her that isn't going to happen, and she accepted things would take a little longer that way.

She still thinks she's rather young for these life-changing events.'

'Poor Georgie, if Manners proposes, she may think the world has gone crazy.'

'Your sister is a strong girl, and I guess she'll manage even if that should happen. I'm so tickled you managed to leave it up to her, you just cannot imagine!'

He does feel pleased with his own restraint, and of course, with his beloved's approval of his actions.

'And what about Manners' offer to help Mr Fielding ahead, do you agree with me there?'

'Sure, you don't own him, it's his own decision. Though Mr Manners may be sorry once Mr Fielding's love for Georgiana comes out. He's throwing them together instead of trying to keep them apart, which would be to his advantage.

But Fitzwilliam, though I prefer Mr Fielding as your sister's suitor, because he seems milder and more likely to allow her to be herself than Mr Manners, I do trust Mr Manners to act fairly under any circumstance. I'm sure he is an honourable man who would never stoop to meanness.

Now while you were in your study, I was back in the little confidence-room, as I have dubbed that small sitting-room at the front of the house, you know, with the pink brocade furniture?'

'I know the room, so that's our new confidence-room, like the one at Netherfield, where we had our quarrel?'

Though Elizabeth shows some unhappiness there, it is true, they did quarrel in that room. But they made up handsomely, and today Darcy has felt the rightness of Elizabeth's reasoning stronger than ever.

'You were right, my love, I admitted it then, but it was proven to me today. I have no right to decide my sister's life. Now tell me who confided in you, before I die of curiosity. Is your father in love with Mrs Annesley?'

'Mr Darcy, how dare you suggest such an indecent thing?

Though I'm sure he would have beggared himself for her if they had met before they were both married.'

Though Darcy realises Elizabeth's tone is due to his outrageous statement, and her second sentence is said positively soft to prove that, it still has the usual effect on him, and he suppresses a shiver of excitement, unable to keep his reply from sounding a tiny bit humble.

'I'm very sorry my love, it won't happen again, if only you tell me whom you talked to.'

Fortunately she doesn't mind his meekness and gives him a kiss and a reply.

'It was your cousin, the Colonel. I had some doubt whether I should see him in private, since he seems a bit overly fond of me, but I trusted his decency, and of course not in vain.

He so much wanted to be in private for an hour, and since I hadn't ever really talked with him after Hunsford, I thought I owed him as much.

When we were in that room by ourselves, he told me he had avoided contact for some time to spare himself the pain.

'I thought I had guarded my heart against you from the start, Eliza,' he said, 'since I knew we could never marry.

Of course I did my best to support my cousin in his grief over your refusal, understanding his regrets. I knew from the moment he told me of his love for you that you would very likely be a good couple, but I thought it to be impossible. Frankly, Darcy's behaviour was impossible at that time, especially towards you.'

I was sorry for him and I had never gotten to talk after your proposal, love, I would have been so glad to know his thoughts. He told me he sat with Charlotte for an hour, waiting for me, to tell me about your real character, to plead me to give you a chance. But when I hadn't returned after an hour he felt embarrassed and went away.

Can you imagine he would have forwarded your suit when he liked me so much himself? How many men would have helped another man marry the woman they loved?

But apparently he didn't realise the extent of his affection until much later.

'Darcy changed so much because of you, Eliza,' he said, 'and meeting you again was such a stroke of good luck for him. Fortunately he had the sense to treat you better, and then, when you were really married, did my own loss hit me.

Only then did I realise I truly loved you, and would never be with you and still see you all the time, intimate with my favourite cousin. It was very painful, Eliza, having to call you Mrs Darcy, and it will stay that way for quite some time, I'm afraid.

I hope you will forgive me my rudeness for as long as we are together now, but I had to address you by your given name just once more, I've thought of you as Eliza all this time. I'll of course be politeness itself again in public.'

He begged me to give him some time to get over his sense of loss, told me he was truly happy to see the two of us so close and so happy together, since there never was any hope of being able to marry me himself.

'My older brother is in excellent health, fortunately,' was what he said, 'and even has an heir by now. And with war threatening, maybe it's better I stay single a little longer. When those French revolutionaries have been put in their place, it's early enough to get married and think of children.

Thank you so much for your understanding Eliza, I'm glad I got to tell you this. I won't bother you with my feelings again, unless I need your advice to court some noble lady with a few thousand pounds and an inclination to marry.'

I didn't say anything at all, I guess I was struck dumb with pity and regret for him, I never realised he was serious in his attachment. I mean, he liked me, that was obvious, but he made it perfectly clear he had no intentions. I had forgotten al about it, until he betrayed his feelings when I called you by your first name and he recognised his own name spoken with love. By me.

I also saw his hurt when he discovered I meant you, he hadn't counted on that at all, he's not used to hearing you called by your first name.

We talked some more, then went back to the drawing-room, where Mr Fielding was playing his concerto again, at the request of virtually everyone, and somehow your cousin's mood found a perfect outlet in that yearning music. He wasn't even surprised to find such a talent hidden in our house, and playing such shamelessly romantic music, he must be very sensitive himself.'

Darcy explains how his cousin and himself already discussed Mr Fielding and Georgiana's return of his tender feelings for her.

'Did he mind? He once told me you shared her custody, so I suppose he'll have to consent, too?'

'He does have a say, but only until she's twenty-one. But he once told me my being heir to Pemberley was a mere matter of coincidence, so I suggested to him that he wouldn't mind Georgiana marrying someone of low descent, as long as he was a gentleman.

He didn't object, but that may be because I said she might otherwise elope to Scotland with Mr Fielding.'

'Did you really set up papa with Mrs Annesley?'

'I sure did, they're probably chatting away right now. Though Mr Lascelles seemed to be looking for your father as well, I wonder if he's going to ask the big question.'

'You're not serious! Already?'

'I am as serious as I've ever been. I really did see him, and he asked where your father was. He seemed nervous and in a hurry, so I told him the truth. They're merely chatting, no harm in a young man catching them at it, is there?'

'No, there isn't. Though it will keep them from chatting.'

And as it turns out that evening, Mr Lascelles did pop the question, and a happy young couple graces the dining-table.

With his usual attitude, Mr Bennet whispers to Darcy, 'When I asked him who'd squealed on my whereabouts, he turned white as a sheet and mentioned you. No sense of honour, these youngsters.

Still, despite his disturbing a very pleasant conversation with a very gifted woman, I couldn't refuse him a few words in private of course, which is how I got to see your study, for Mrs Annesley directed us there.

Said she had a rather difficult bit of needlework to get through anyway before she could chat again.

I suppose it was done when I came back, congratulating myself on marrying off another spawn to a good-looking wealthy young chap. I suppose I'll be knee-deep in grandchildren soon. But anyway, when I came back we continued where we left off, and I feel much better now. We may run into each other again tomorrow, it's a free world after all, and Mrs Annesley tells me she often takes her work to the library, where the light is very good in winter.'

It's almost like having a father again, talking to Mr Bennet, though kind as he was, Darcy's father wasn't a bit like his father-in-law. To think he was once rather afraid of the latter's ready wit and sarcasm, now it's one of the highlights of his dinner.

And Elizabeth knows, for she doesn't hesitate to enjoy her father's outrageous statement, whereas she might have been embarrassed otherwise.

It appears Mr Lascelles is going to have to leave his brand-new fiancée for a few days, to visit some family, but he will be back in time to attend the ball on New Year's Eve with her, and Elizabeth remarks to her father, 'Better have her choose a beautiful new gown then, papa, tomorrow or the day after. She'll want to feel pretty among those sophisticated ladies there, not countrified and fresh from the farm, as I did when I first came here. Though I did have beautiful dresses.'

Too true, and though Mr Bennet makes a disparaging remark about the sense of clothes-happy adolescents, it is clear he does agree to take a little effort to make Kitty feel less rustic than he tends to feel in London.

Author's note:

My publisher (my husband) tells me my sales on Amazon are dropping because of two very bad reviews. To post a review, one does not need to buy the book, or even read a certain number of pages via Amazon, one can just type it in and leave it behind.

If any of you should be so kind as to give me a positive review to offset these negative ones a little bit, I would be most obliged. My publisher, again, he's always pushing me to do things like this, tells me he will post an extra chapter if we gain five positive reviews.

A difficult thing to ask, for me, but there, I did it.


	53. Chapter 53

Chapter 63

Early Wednesday-morning, as Eric dresses to accompany Mr Manners to what he expects to be a rather naughty party, he is surprised by a knock on the door. It's Simon, who excuses himself for disturbing Eric this early.

'I thought you might like some help dressing, I can show you how to tie those cravats. Frankly, I should come with you, Mr Manners has his valet, and you should have one, too. But it's too late now to ask the master, he doesn't like to be disturbed this early in the morning. Busy times for a married man.'

That does seem to be a rather sore point for Simon, apparently he is not married himself, and would like to be. Strange, for he is incredibly handsome and very nice, it shouldn't be too hard for him to find a girl to marry. Oh well, from what he lamented a few days ago when Eric was having a hard time with jealousy of Mr Manners, Simon seems to have some unhappy love that he cannot escape from. Pity.

Though Eric's love is also still troubling him. Georgiana is certainly giving him every sign of caring for him, but of what use is that but to make her as unhappy as he is? They'll never be allowed to marry.

'Eric, take some care around Mr Grenfell, the friend in question. He's not a kindred spirit, if you get my meaning, though Mr Manners and his friends obviously like him a great deal. They are the only ones who can handle him, and they are sorely mistaken in his character.

Do not trust him, do not tell him anything pertinent, and do not get angry if he says anything disrespectful of your new patron and especially his sister. Let Mr Manners deal with that, and to this end do not be caught alone by the master of the house. He does not respect Mr Darcy, has reason to be angry with him, and also with Miss Darcy.

Ignore slights, pretend to be stupid or ignorant of the concept of honour, or you will regret it.

Mr Grenfell has no respect for your sensibility or your gift, he will find out your ancestry and treat you like a servant. Please avoid him.'

'How do you know all this, Simon? Why does he worry you so much?'

'I was involved in the gross violation of honour and decency that got him banished to his own house for two months by his friends, chief among whom Mr Manners.

I have a high opinion of Mr Manners, but he really seems blind to Grenfell's faults. If that man finds out how much Mr Darcy and especially Miss Darcy value you, he may try to hurt you, either physically or through your place in society.

You are on your way up, Eric, don't let some foolish sense of honour spoil everything, for believe me, if it's one of their own against a cow-herd's son, no matter how gifted you are and how intensely useless Grenfell is, you're done for, and Mr Darcy will only be able to save the remnants of your career.

Frankly, I wish you hadn't consented to go, but I suppose you didn't know, and couldn't have refused anyway. I wish I could come with you to keep an eye on you, but I suppose that wouldn't be possible anyway from the back of the house. Just be very, very careful, and trust Mr Manners. He is honourable, just blind to his friend's true nature.'

'That sounds pretty awful, Simon. Is there something else I should know about?'

'Mr Lascelles will be there, maybe you can keep him from lowering himself on spirits and loose women? He's engaged after all. But be subtle, or don't do anything, do not risk your career.'

'And Mr Manners? Is he in danger?'

'Mr Manners rules the roost, it will be interesting to watch him and learn, Eric, he is so incredibly subtle. He looks like your parish priest, but there is so much more to him than meets the eye. Watch, listen, and be as amazed as I was when I found out.

If you can win his friendship, you'll be set forever. But again: do not criticise Grenfell or any other of his friends, he loves them so much they cannot do anything amiss in his eyes. He accepts anything and everything from them, as a fond parent overindulging his children.

Simon seems to know Mr Manners rather well, which is not entirely strange since that gentleman seems to skip the boundaries of class very easily.

'I will heed your warning, Simon, and be watchful. And should I see anything that upsets me, I'll not take action, since that would be harmful to my career. Is that it?'

'That's it. Now I'll be less worried over you. Mr Manners can take care of himself.'

After this information, which frankly makes Eric even more nervous than he already was, Simon gives him advice on what to wear, what not to wear, and some innocuous subjects of conversation, should that become an issue.

They check out the stuff he is planning to take, and Simon wonders about a soft leather case that is rather heavy for its size.

'Tuning instruments, Simon, some may find the sound of an out-of-tune piano charming, I cannot stand it for even a minute. It grates on my ears, and I can tune an entire piano in half an hour, not perfectly, that would take much longer, but adequately, and I do it free of charge. I do it for myself after all.

And I'm taking some sheet music, I never go anywhere without it.'

Set to go, Simon helps him carry his stuff downstairs, where Mr Manners is already waiting.

'My valet is fetching my carriage and driver from my own town-house, they'll be here in a few minutes. Glad to find you so punctual.

Simon! So good to see you, I wish you could come with us, had I thought of it I'd have asked Mr Darcy, though I suppose you have duties here. And you may not like where we're going, considering what happened at Netherfield.

Don't worry, my man, I'll return Mr Fielding in one piece, as handsome and as gifted as he ever was.'

Georgiana says Simon never knew his place, and he proves it now by replying to Mr Manners' familiar remark as familiarly, and rather critically.

'I sure hope you know what you are doing, sir, taking him to such an occasion. You're not going to tell your friend whose house he lives in, are you?'

'I most certainly am not, I'm going to even keep Mr Fielding's name a big secret. He'll be someone I found in a pub and had dressed for the occasion.

But thanks for the tip, Simon. If you can look a little uncomfortable in your outfit, Mr Fielding, that would be perfect. And if you know how to act less sophisticated, so much the better.'

'My patron entertained people of all classes willing to buy one of his instruments, Mr Manners, I can be anyone with enough money to afford a piano.'

'That is good enough for me, and good enough for my friends. I hear a carriage coming, I suppose that's ours. Is there anyone in particular you should say your goodbyes to?'

Since Eric did that last night just before he went to bed, he shakes his head, though he does wonder what that question is about. Mr Manners cannot know about Georgiana, can he? There was that damned article in the paper, of course.

'I'm all set, and looking forward to an exciting trip, Mr Manners. Thank you for your help with everything, Simon!'

'My pleasure, Mr Fielding.'

'Oh come on, Simon, you don't have to Mr Fielding him before me. Look around you, there's no-one else here.'

'All right then, enjoy yourself, Eric, and see you tomorrow.

And you too, Frederick, enjoy yourself and take care of him.'

Simon receives a playful cuff around the ears for his trouble, and is left behind smiling.

'That fellow really doesn't know his place,' Mr Manners comments on their way out, both carrying their own luggage, 'but you know, I did ask for it, and he's the best valet in town and beyond. If it weren't so damned impolite, I'd lure him away from Darcy to work for me, God knows I need the effort, whereas Darcy always looks perfect. That guy's talents are wasted on him.'

As they sit down in the carriage, Eric notices it is much like Mr Manners' dress style, very simple at first glance, but when one takes a little more time to really look at it, finished to perfection, priceless crushed velvet seats, walnut inlays, bronze lamps in a flowing organic style, even a little hearth that smells less than usual in such a small space.

The dampers must be of an excellent quality, for there are no bumps at all.

'I've opted for insulting my valet by having him sit on the box with my driver, to have a little privacy inside, he's getting too soft anyway, too little work and too many parties these days. Since I'm rarely at home I have only a basic staff, and he has to serve himself, but in these large houses even the personal servants are spoiled rotten.'

That is certainly strange, calling his own valet spoiled, and allowing Simon to call him by his first name, but of course these rich gentlemen can do whatever pleases them.

Soon, Mr Manners explains Eric what the New Year's Eve charity will be like, and what will be expected of him.

'Of course you can join the guests before and after your show, and there will be a little room for you to prepare in peace and quiet. If Miss Darcy wants to join you there to keep you company that is fine. Being your pupil and very talented herself she will understand not to talk to you while you prepare, and help you get into the right mood.'

Eric cannot comment to this, the very thought of Georgiana makes him shy, exhilarated, love-sick and desperate at the same time. Better put her out of his mind for a day and a night.

'It's about an hour's drive to my friend's house.

Since Simon probably thought it necessary to warn you against my friend Grenfell, I'll be frank and tell you exactly what to expect at his house. It may shock you to hear, but I hope you'll understand we cannot just cast off our friend.

After the wedding-party of Mr Bingley and Miss Bennet, Grenfell tried to rape a servant girl, of course you probably know her, for she's Mrs Darcy's personal maid, a very pretty and well-behaved girl.

She was saved by Darcy's brother-in-law, the army man, who was not present at Christmas because he used to be, and still is, Darcy's worst enemy. But that's not my tale to tell, it's Darcy's, or even Miss Darcy's.'

Eric remembers, she promised to tell him, but he never offered her another chance at intimacy, afraid to drag her along in his love for her, afraid to cause her grief and disappointment.

'Darcy wanted to call Grenfell out, but no-one would understand a gentleman fighting over a servant girl. I do, you've noticed I'm not for formality at all, but the rest of the world would not.

Therefore I thought we'd better punish him ourselves, and Darcy and Bingley agreed, so we did, our old group of college friends, we banished him from public life for two months. But he cannot abstain for so long so we thought we'd throw him a party at home to spare his maids, give him what he needs in a relatively decent way. Which is where Lascelles comes in with some arrangements he's made, and you will be there to liven things up a little.

If Grenfell is hopeless, we'll have to ostracise him, but that'll set him loose on the world. We prefer to marry him off and keep an eye on him. We feel responsible for him. That's it. You're not, so if anything happens, send for me. Or Lascelles, he likes you a lot, and do not be mistaken, he's tougher than he looks.'

With such excellent company, time flies by, and before they know it the carriage slows down to ride along a beautiful avenue lined with large trees. They're bare of leaves, of course, but from the smoothness of the trunks Eric guesses they are beeches, hundreds of years old.

The house is surprisingly modern, not to Eric's taste for it is rather squat, but it's sure large and the situation isn't bad at all, it's halfway up a long slope, with a truly stunning formal garden at the front of the house.

The sheer size of the garden amazes Eric, he's mostly lived in the city, and this garden must be so much work to maintain, it's nearly the size of a city park, with box hedges and yews shaped like geometric figures or animals, a labyrinth, a sizeable pond lined with seats and little nooks and crannies, and a long straight path connecting the various entertainments, all displayed right before him because of the slope they're built on.

'That somehow doesn't look like a bachelor's garden, Mr Manners, it must take ten gardeners to keep it in such perfect condition!'

Mr Manners replies dryly, 'I'd guess more like fifteen, working full-time all through summer. What does he have them do in winter?

Anyway, you're right of course, that is not Grenfell's garden, it's in fact his mother's. She's a widow, and still living with him on the estate, she says she doesn't like city-life.

Mrs Grenfell is part of the reason I wanted so much to have you part of this.

We're pretending to have a quiet, cultural party, with serious music, which is why I have had the pianist I supposedly found in a bar fitted up with decent clothes, pretending to be an ambitious young player trying to work his way up.

Will you allow me to introduce you by your first name? I do not want them to know who you really are, as Simon suggested, that would be very unwise and possibly harmful to your career.'

'You may use my first name whenever you like, Mr Manners, you know where I come from originally, but in this case, maybe it's better to use my second name, Philip? Philip Fields, that has a nice sound to it.'

'As you wish, Philip. Too bad you're a mere bar-pianist here, I'd love to have you address me less formally, but that wouldn't be credible. We'll save that for later.

Now listen up, Grenfell has bought a new piano, he is eager to marry and expects a visit from an eligible lady soon. The piano is to convince her Grenfell is a cultural adept.

I'll have someone take you to it as soon as we're settled, and you can get to know it and probably adjust its tuning. Miss Darcy told me you taught her to tune her own instrument, because an off-tune piano grated on her ears. I suppose that's worse for you.

Then after dinner you can play your own concerto for the old lady, plus some other not too virtuous pieces with plenty of feeling, remember, you're a bar-pianist, no sonatas or you'd have to pretend to struggle through them.

After that, Lascelles will instruct you on the rest of the entertainment. I'll keep you close, that's not entirely in line with our story, but I don't want you relegated to the servant's part of the house by accident.

By now they have reached the house and are received by the butler, who takes their coats and shows them their rooms on the first floor, Eric finding to his relief he has a room right next door to Mr Manners. It's very old-fashioned, with heavy, embroidered velvet curtains, and a four-poster bed with even more fabric.

It's perfectly aired though, no stuffiness at all, and perfectly serviceable for one night, in which he probably will not see much of his bed anyway. How they will keep the widow from finding out about their pleasures is a mystery to him, and something he probably wants to keep that way.

After a quick inspection they go to the drawing-room to meet their host and the other friends of this clique.

Walking a pace behind Mr Manners when they enter, Eric feels very comfortable, this man really does exude familiarity and trustworthiness.

The halls and the drawing-room are also old-fashioned, much like the formal dining-room at Mr Darcy's house, walls painted a rich colour, stuffed with valuable hard-wood furniture with nacre and contrasting wood inlays, the chairs and sofa's elaborately carved with intricate shapes, with stiff horsehair-stuffed seats.

A large contrast to Mr Darcy's elegant, airy style of furnishing, which is as rich but so much easier on the eye.

Eric supposes the old widow must have quite some influence on this household yet.

Mr Grenfell is very imposing, handsome, tall, well-dressed, but somehow he seems to shrink a little when shaking hands with Mr Manners. That fellow sure has an overpowering influence on his large friend, Eric almost expects Grenfell to kiss Mr Manners' hand. How can this be?

Why does Mr Manners' presence have this effect on a man of Grenfell's calibre, look at the estate, he must have a considerable income, why does he let himself be put upon by a relatively nondescript man like Mr Manners? Eric certainly doesn't feel a need to lower himself towards Mr Manners, the opposite actually, he is so familiar.

There will be plenty to see tonight, that much is clear.

Mr Manners of course greets his friend heartily, with a well-meant hug, he obviously loves him a lot. After that, Mr Grenfell's hesitation is gone, and he is totally at ease, until a lady in her late middle years enters the room and demands to be introduced to any new arrivals.

That must be the widow, she's so much younger than Eric expected! She can be Grenfell's mother, but just barely, she must have been very young when she got him.

She doesn't dress her age, though, but at least ten years out of fashion, and her hairstyle is very conservative. It's clear poor Mr Grenfell is not the master of this household by far, not yet, nor will he be as long as his mother is still alive and well.

How will they get her to stay in her room while they feast?

How will his future wife cope with her mother-in-law living in? She probably will not have to, doesn't the mother get her own establishment when her son marries? Maybe that is why Mr Grenfell is so eager to marry, to be rid of his mother.

Though the widow will not leave that garden voluntarily!

After shaking hands with everyone, being introduced to a motley assortment of men who apparently make up Mr Manners' college clique, and to Mrs Grenfell senior, who openly admires Eric's looks, and holds his hand a tiny bit too long, Mr Manners comes to his rescue, offering, 'Do you want to check out the piano, Philip? Let me take you to the room we've designated to use for the party.'

'Yes, please, I'd like to get a feel for the room and the instrument.'

Grenfell forces his opinion on all of them.

'Lascelles is still busy with the party delivering it. It's a fine instrument, but why make such a fuss about the delivery? One would think it's made of porcelain the way that guy carried on about drafts and the bumpiness of my lane.

Some people just don't know their place in life.'

Mr Grenfell is clearly put out with a tradesman showing little respect for a land-holder, the transport-firm must be from London, townsfolk generally have little respect for class, especially for country-people.

'Lascelles said he came highly recommended, and Grenfell, if you think about it, a piano is much like porcelain, it damages easily. Now you just let Lascelles and me handle everything and enjoy yourselves, we'll make sure the piano is ready tonight.'

Mr Manners soothes his high-strung friend easily, and signals Eric to follow him.

'I thought the instrument would have been delivered weeks ago, Lascelles must have been very much distracted by having his heart stolen. How easily love turns our heads around until we can no longer think right, doesn't it, Philip?'

With a little more feeling than he intends, Eric replies.

'It certainly does. Mr Lascelles looked very happy to have secured his lovely young fiancée. I can imagine he was a bit distracted from organising the piano.'

'Will it be a terrible problem, getting it in tune so soon after transport?'

'Frankly, with any other pianist you would have been in trouble, after such a long trip in this cold weather one usually leaves it for a week to acclimatise before even trying to tune it.

But I can tune it myself, and do it again if needed, as many times as necessary until it sounds to my liking.'


	54. Chapter 54

Author's note

My husband/publisher made a terrible mistake, telling me to tell you a review on Amazon could be made regardless of a sale. I'm terribly sorry, and to make up for it here's the extra chapter anyway. And for the one reader who bought the book to post a review, thank you! You may have single-handedly saved my future as a writer! I hope you read this despite having all the remaining chapters at your disposal. This extra chapter will help you, too, because it speeds up the all-new updates.

Enjoy!

Chapter 64

Before Mr Manners can comment, they reach the party-room and enter, fortunately Eric behind Mr Manners once more, for in the group of workers placing the piano to Mr Lascelles' exact instructions, he immediately recognises the man who delivered his own piano to Mr Darcy's house, what was his name again?

He cannot come up with it this quickly, but he does know this man should not see him and he pulls Mr Manners' coat and turns around and leaves the room before the man standing in front of him can even ask him what's up.

Outside in the hall, Eric starts to realise this is the man who told the reporter that Eric was intimate with Miss Darcy, and while Mr Darcy didn't blame Eric in the least for that damned article, Eric still smarts under the implications, no matter how true they are. Probably because they are true.

An uncharacteristic anger comes over him, and he feels like going in there, and giving the man a piece of his mind, though a tiny reasonable part of him urges him that is not a good idea at all.

'Philip, you look seriously put out, remind me to never make you angry, you seem so innocuous and sweet mannered, but obviously you have some steel in you. Please calm down and tell me what you saw in there. Wrong brand piano? Did they abuse it? They did come highly recommended.'

He does know how to find the right tone for everyone, Mr Manners. But Eric is still so upset he blurts out, 'That man moved my piano to Mr Darcy's place and told all kinds of lies to a reporter about me and Miss Darcy. I thought Mr Darcy'd certainly kick me out as a result, but he didn't. He said it was his fault for accidentally dropping my name to the guy.

He also said it was great publicity. But nonetheless I want to give him a piece of my mind, that loose-mouthed idiot, he almost ruined my life! Again!'

'Calm down, Philip!

If he's a reporter or in league with one, he should not see you here. Grenfell says Darcy guards his sister beyond reason, but he would never be unfair, you cannot help what a reporter makes up about you.

So you were in the papers? I never spotted it, but Darcy was right, its great advertising.

Now you let me handle this. I'll give him some interesting facts to blabber to the reporter, no-one must find out what we are really planning here.

You stay here and control yourself!'

Suddenly, Eric understands Mr Grenfell a lot better, this is not a request from Mr Manners but an order, and it's not negotiable. Well, Eric's anger has been cooled enough to see the sense in it, and he merely peeks to see what Mr Manners says to the delivery-man.

Of course he cannot understand a word of what is said, but they chat very familiarly, and by the time the men are done and come towards the door to leave, the tradesman obviously is great friends with Mr Manners.

Apparently, no-one gainsays him.

Eric disappears into a little recess in the hall until the men have passed by, then he enters the room.

'Did they see you?' Mr Manners asks, in a totally different voice, very friendly, almost soft.

'They didn't. I peeked and saw them coming, so I hid in a little corner while they were in the hall.'

'Thank you so much, Eric, I'm sorry I addressed you like that, you're not mine to command, and had you obeyed to the letter, as people tend to do that tone of voice, the guy would have walked right into you.

I'm also sorry for using your real name just now, but there's just Lascelles here and he knows anyway. Please don't think I disrespect you, Eric, in fact I have the highest opinion of you and would very much like to be less formal with you. Will you do me the honour of calling me Frederick in private and Manners in public?'

Apparently, this is a big deal, it takes some getting used to. But Manners is clearly a good sort of man, and Eric is more used to familiarity than formality.

'Sure, and of course you're welcome to reciprocate. But would you mind explaining to me what private is, exactly?

I mean, you're calling Mr Lascelles by his family name though I'd say we're reasonably private here.'

'Eric, you're invaluable! We're so stuck in our ways we don't even notice anymore. This certainly counts as private, but the boys and I never use first names, at college, first names don't exist.

Now tell me, what do you think of Grenfell's new pride and joy? Bought with the sole purpose of catching himself a missus to make over the house and get rid of his rather overpowering mother?'

Honorifics, college and familiarity is all pretty confusing, fortunately there is one subject in the world that Eric is a true expert on.

Piano's.

First he looks at the entire instrument, it's obviously modern and very elegant, certainly not a Zumpe, they tend to be voluminous like Mr Zumpe himself.

Stroking the lid to feel the glossy lacquered wood, he opens it and checks the insides. Finding a system he has never seen before, of course the general set-up is the same, strings attached to the frame, hammers making the sound, but everything else is totally unique. This is marvellous, this must be a very expensive and exclusive instrument. Mr Grenfell must be hunting big game indeed.

'This is a magnificent instrument, Frederick, who chose it? Mr Lascelles, did you? Don't tell me its maker, yet, I'm going to guess. Is it a Clementi?'

'Spot on, Fielding, or did I just hear I'm supposed to call you by an alias here? You know that's way too involved, Manners, those tricks never work out.'

'He's Philip, he's no gentleman, we just put that suit on him for tonight. He was introduced as Philip Fields, better remember.

And Eric, once you're familiar with one of us, you're with all of us, so it's Lascelles for you from now on. Today as well, though you're supposed to be someone else, it doesn't matter. They'll all know.'

'All right, Philip it is then. I chose the piano, but I asked Mr Darcy first what brand was the best available, Grenfell is paying anyway. It seems Mr Darcy's made quite a study of the subject, Miss Darcy once told me he always chooses the best piano's of that particular moment. He said Clementi's were expensive but Miss Darcy loved hers. He also recommended the firm to transport it.

They refused to tune it after such a trip, but I guessed you could do that yourself so I didn't elaborate. I'm glad now I didn't, or I would have used your real name. If you scheme, Manners, better let the rest of us into it, or things will go amiss.'

Eric manages to keep from blushing at the mention of Georgiana, especially since he has been dying to get his hands on a Clementi for years. Now he won't have to wait for his visit to Pemberley to finally play one.

For half an hour the rest of the world ceases to exist, as he plays a few chords to find the piano incredibly sour, then opens his case with tools.

'I guess you'll be safe enough here, Philip, we'll be in the drawing-room with the rest. It's not much fun watching a guy being intimate with an instrument, no matter how well-built they both are.'

He'll have to reply, but then his time will be his own. Half an hour is not enough, this piano deserves a full tuning. No, Eric, control yourself, give it time to adjust to the room or all your work will be in vain. Better go back in an hour or two for fine-tuning.

'I'm good for half an hour, and then I'll need another hour tonight, before the show. I'll come to the drawing-room once I'm finished, Frederick.'

'Good, enjoy!'

And enjoy himself Eric does, this instrument is such a joy to tune, it's as if it tunes itself, everything works so fabulously supple and solid. Half an hour, and the basic tuning is finished, very basic indeed.

Still he cannot control himself and plays for another half hour, the sonata he practised with Georgiana, this instrument is so perfect for the virtuosity. Then the lively fragments of his own concerto, and a smattering of the music that is ripening in his mind at the very moment, very feeling, a mixture of intense longing and hope, and the certainty of disappointment and heartbreak threatening to replace the first two.

Thus he discovers the disadvantage of this lovely instrument, it doesn't make him feel as deeply as his own Zumpe or Georgiana's Buntebart, this piano is meant to be played lively and with virtuosity. Too bad for Mr Zumpe that his handiwork lends itself better for the work he didn't want to hear.

The pieces Eric's former patron likes best, sonatas of incredible difficulty, sound so much better on this Clementi, infinitely better than on the instruments of the man who adores them so much, and who hates the Clementi family as his most dangerous competitors.

Enough playing already, better be sociable for a few moments, he's been an hour longer than he said he would be.

As he gets up, he hears someone behind him, and he feels a light touch on his back.

'You are mighty talented, Philip Fields, to tune a piano in half an hour and play like that. I'm looking forward to tonight!'

It's the old widow, who's not so old at all, and standing very close to him. Better flee, Simon said not to do anything without Manners present.

'Thank you, Mrs Grenfell! I am looking forward to playing this beautiful piano, too. Good day!'

And he's out of the room and on his way to the drawing-room.

Bother his concentration, he never heard her enter, he has no idea how long she had been sitting there, listening to him playing a sonata by heart, and pouring out his innermost feelings through his music. Very embarrassing.

During dinner, Eric starts to understand how Manners and friends plan to keep the widow in her own room, she drinks wine as if it's lemonade, if she continues to imbibe at this rate she will be unconscious by suppertime.

Eric accepts one glass of well-watered wine, and after that he sticks to tea and plain water, which the servants find rather singular, but accept without question.

The widow is the only woman present, and frankly, Eric feels a bit sorry for her. She must lead a rather lonely life here in this large house, with nothing to do but reading, needlework and drinking wine. In summer she must enjoy her garden very much, but in the dreariness of December, he can even understand her finding solace in a good vintage from France.

Imagine her son spending all his time with a clique of bachelors, if he was married or had married friends she'd have some company at least.

'I'm glad Cuthbert decided to spend Christmas with me,' she says, 'and so nice of you to all drop by. It's so enjoyable to have some young folk about for a change.

And to think you've organised a concert for me, and you've found such a talented musician, and such a handsome fellow! I snuck in while he was tuning and trying your new piano, Bertie, he's wasted on whatever bar you found him in.

I'm looking forward to tonight very much!'

As soon as she has drained her glass, a servant fills it back up, it's just incredible, they're purposely setting her drunk! She must know, she just cannot resist the lure of the wine.

Truthfully, Eric is glad to escape straight after dinner. Instead of Mrs Grenfell retreating to the drawing-room by herself, she stays with the gentlemen and gets her share of the brandy.

How can Manners condone this? They're killing her!

He does not excuse himself to Grenfell, but rather to Manners.

'I really need to spend some more time on the piano, Manners, it has been warming up steadily the past two hours, and it will have detuned more than a little because of that. It'll take me at least an hour to correct that.

I don't mind the widow watching, but I'd like her to announce herself, and keep a proper distance so as not to disturb me in my work.'

Manners can read Eric's indignation over the poor widow's treatment in his face, no doubt.

'Please don't judge me, Philip, I know what it looks like, but believe me, Grenfell has his reasons, I'll explain later. And I'll talk to his mother myself, she'll listen to me. Thank you for allowing her to sit in while you tune and practise, it's a real treat for her.'

Well, it's none of his business anyway. The piano needs some rough tuning, but less than he thought, and then he can start on the finer work, an instrument of this quality deserves to have been tuned perfectly at least once. No doubt it will be handled by bunglers from now on, but that's the fate of most piano-forte's, though admittedly usually not of Clementi's.

The widow does indeed announce herself, actually Manners stands on the edge of Eric's personal space until Eric notices him, then says Mrs Grenfell will be sitting in a chair Lascelles has already placed there especially for her.

'How long have you been waiting for me to notice you, Frederick?'

'About five minutes, you can sure concentrate to the exclusion of all else.'

'You may touch me, Frederick, there's nothing indecent about a man catching another man's attention that way. But Mrs Grenfell may have some trouble recognising boundaries after indulging so heavily, I just don't want to run the risk of causing confusion here.'

'Again, you're priceless. I'll leave you to your tuning and playing, we'll be here for the real concert in another hour. Don't hesitate to put in some practise, I suppose Mrs Grenfell is on to you anyway, and Grenfell doesn't seem to have noticed at all. He's already thinking of tonight, I guess.'

That is the best thing Manners could have told him today, Eric's hands are aching to try his new study piece on this piano, it should be a perfect match, but it's way too virtuous for a pianist plucked from a bar and stuck into a suit. Then again, Mrs Grenfell is long past reason in her intoxication, she may not even notice.

Against his common sense, but to his current delight, Eric has taken his music sheets for the piece with him, and since he is planning to play several less virtuous pieces and his concerto officially, he merely sets to practise with his usual dedication.

And indeed this is the perfect instrument for it, he loses himself totally in his studies, and it's as if the piano encourages him, for even the hardest passage flows out of those keys better than ever. The hour flies by, without a single sound out of the widow.

Until the door opens and the entire clique files in, finding seats around Mrs Grenfell. She, of course, gets a refill of ruby red wine, the rest are also holding glasses with wine or spirits.

A servant very carefully puts a cup of tea on the piano, an excellent idea after an hour of practice.

The next hour, Eric plays his usual repertoire, the widow obviously relishes the music, and most gentlemen at least enjoy it. Grenfell is the exception, he seems bored and distracted by his thoughts. It must have been very dull indeed, living here with his old fashioned mother.

And that was a mere two weeks, there will be six more yet to come.

After the concert, the widow approaches Eric, clearly planning to embrace him. Manners moves to intercept, she's not quite steady on her feet anymore, and Eric just cannot bear the sight of her without doing something.

A nod to Manners keeps him at a distance, and Eric allows the widow to embrace him, he has to steady her to keep her from falling.

'Thank you so much, Philip, that was beautiful. Well, I'm off to bed now, I'm not allowed to stay for the real fun. Please behave yourself, but I suppose you will since you don't drink wine, apparently.'

And with that, a maid takes her mistress from Eric's arms and leads her out.

A flurry of activity follows, and within minutes the room is totally transformed from a kind of theatre to a more informal situation, with several kinds of liquors and whisky openly on a buffet, and servants bringing in savoury treats.

Eric decides to wait behind the piano, where he feels more secure, as Manners and Lascelles have everything arranged to their liking.

Then Lascelles joins Eric at the piano and says, 'Philip, we are going to start with an oriental theme, then French. After that, the dress of the girls will give the style away, I think, and by then everyone is so drunk you can just play anything rowdy you like or they request.

If anyone offers you insult or rudeness, signal to either Manners or myself, we'll deal with it, we will not be indulging in much drinking.'

As their friends await the entertainment eagerly, Manners leads in a whole string of scantily clad, pretty young women. They are all dressed more or less the same, and Eric gets the idea and starts an oriental sounding tune with dissonances of which he is very proud.

The girls do a synchronised belly-dance, an incredibly tantalizing sight, there are eight girls present, and the gentlemen are not admiring them from a distance, but stroking and touching them as they dance past the little tables.

Oh my! That goes a little further than Eric expected, and this is just the beginning!

After the belly-dance, the girls remove several articles of clothing, yes, that is possible though he thought they wore very little to begin with, and now they're playing with feathered stoles, and he changes the music to a French march.

The girls pick it up immediately, and start to dance even more sinuously and sensually, fortunately Eric can hide behind the piano or the gentlemen would undoubtedly laugh at his prudishness.

But he needs to check the girls' next moves, this is as far as his instructions reach, and he can do little but improvise.

The ladies certainly are professionals, they file to a certain table to get top-hats, and Eric plays a formal hymn, which they still manage to dance to in a tantalizing way. After that they are clearly ready for a breather, and he is, too.

The girls sit on the gentlemen's laps and get drinks from a sole remaining servant, and Eric has time and bravery enough to look about him.

Most of the group have one or two ladies on their knees, and are fondling and kissing eagerly.

Grenfell is the most obviously excited, he actually gropes under clothing and in tiny pants, causing his two girls to squeal in surprise. But apparently it is allowed, for they stay right where they are and even remove his coat and unbutton his shirt.

His chest is an impressive sight, he must work out a lot.

Mr Manners is looking on mildly, he has no girls with him, and he doesn't seem to want to, and yet he does not look as if he is merely supervising, he seems to enjoy his friends' party as much as they do.

Lascelles does kiss one girl, and he strokes her with relish, and though he does not get more intimate than that, Eric is nonetheless rather outraged. He's been engaged for a mere day!

Drinks are disappearing rapidly, and some gentlemen are disappearing from the room with one or more ladies, Grenfell first of all.

Mr Manners stays put, nursing a drink, now chatting with one of the girls but not touching, and Eric can see Mr Lascelles leave, but by himself. Whatever can he be doing? Checking on those couples?

Feeling a little uncomfortable, Eric starts to play again, but quieter, fitting the scene.

Of course that causes him to forget his surroundings, until he suddenly feels a strong, hard body against his own.

He manages to continue playing and looks up, it's Grenfell watching him play, but somehow hanging against him not to fall over.

'You're doing quite well, Philip, I'm ready for some serious music so I thought I'd see what else you know.'

Grenfell drags a chair close and sits down, good, that didn't feel very comfortable, such a masculine shape against his slender one, it was kind of threatening.

'Say Philip, let's have a little talk, you and I. I'd like you to play something really lively next, but be careful not to damage the piano with your large paws, this piano is meant for a lady to play on. Can't have some bar-player ruin it for my future missus, now can I?'

Well, at least someone has not seen through Manners' ruse, if Grenfell still thinks Eric is a pianist from the streets.

'Say Philip, do you have a lady of some sorts?'

Eric has been amusing himself with thinking up a persona for Philip, and he's actually excited to get the chance to use it.

'Sure, Grenfell, I have this lovely lass I go see, Deirdre. She used to be married to a huge bald fellow, and we, you know, saw each other very carefully. But the big guy got involved in an brawl and got himself a bad case of death by stabbing, the temper on that fellow.

Anyways, Deirdre inherited the bar, and I've been playing there ever since. She's just got the one kid from the bald fellow, he has hair though so no-one knows he's not mine. Come to think of it, maybe he is mine.'

'I like you, Philip! A bald fellow! Say, do you ride?'

Somehow, that seems to be really important to these guys.

'I don't, Grenfell, I'm a city boy, I walk everywhere.'

'Too bad, riding gets a fellow some good stuff. Nearly had myself a good summer at Pemberley, you know it?'

'I know of it.'

'Well, I promised to teach the young mistress to ride, she rather fancied me and if she'd see this magnificent piano she'd be mine altogether, she plays much like you, but a lot better of course, she's had the best teachers money can buy.

I almost had her, nice little fresh thing to liven up my bed, but her arrogant brother cut me off. Probably afraid his own missus would like me a bit too much, eh? Poor sister isn't allowed to do anything without the brother's consent, see what that'll get her. Stuffy old Manners most likely, guy doesn't care one bit about the ladies, never seen him even look at one twice. And he's to marry that sweet little slip of a girl?

You know that Darcy girl has thirty thousand? And a juicy maid, I thought I'd get two for the price of one, but damned if that worked out well. Bet you that Darcy fellow wanted that maid for himself, too, a right tantrum he kicked over her, a damned maid. Who cares?

But no matter, I've my eye on another one, ten thousand less and a bit stuck up, but my mum will cure her of that. She may look pliable but she aint, it's the wine that makes her sweet for a night. Tomorrow you'll meet her for real.

At least this new one doesn't have a pesky brother, have enough to cope with, with my mum still living in and my very own friends.

Well, anyway, you play a nice rowdy tavern song that we can bawl along with, and after that there's plenty of girls, you can have one, too. That redhead was great, I'm going for the blonde next. Nice talking to you, Philip!'

That beats all! Eric thought Simon was overreacting to not being invited, but he was right! This fellow is even worse than he thought, he'd come on to the lady of the house as easily as one of these paid girls. Or the poor maid.

Playing a rowdy song and singing along is the best way to put it out of his mind for now, but tonight in his old-fashioned bed, he will think about it a bit more. There was something about this fellow that bothered Georgiana and Simon, but he forgot.

They love Eric's drinking songs, another advantage of not doing any drinking himself, his voice cannot be harmed by these rough, loud vocals.

The party lasts deep into the night, and one by one the gentlemen seem to give in to sleep and the effect of spirits. When three of them have retired, and a fourth, a tall, thin man with long black shiny ringlets, has fallen asleep on one of the sofa's, Manners brings Eric a glass of wine and says, 'That's more than half water, enjoy! You've earned it.

I'm going to check upstairs, we agreed that Lascelles would do that, but he's getting a bit tired as well. Back in a moment!'

Eric stops playing for a few moments to drink and wiggle his hands, when one of the girls comes towards him.

'Can I sit with you for a moment, sir? I admire your talent, I've never heard someone play as fancy as that.'

There are plenty of chairs about, so there is no reason she should not sit down for a moment, most of the men are either occupied with one or more of the girls, upstairs somewhere, or asleep, and this girl is no longer needed.

'Sure, take any chair you like,' he says, and he looks around the room to see how many men are left standing. Grenfell is impossible to beat, of course, and another, plain-faced man of the same build as Grenfell is still dancing and kissing.

Suddenly, a weight lands on his lap, and an arm clutches his waist possessively. The girl is sitting on top of him!

His first instinct is to push her off, but that would be very rude, and somehow he would hate to have Grenfell laugh at him for being a prude. So he merely settles to her weight and waits what happens. Manners is still nowhere in sight, he'll have to manage by himself.

An elegant hand strokes his clean-shaven cheek, and runs through his black hair freely.

'You are the most handsome man in this whole company, and so talented. I find that very exciting, you look so much like an angel when you play.

Oh, and you're shy. That's just irresistible!'

He is shy, and desperately in love with someone, but that is not something one confesses to a paid woman. He bears with her touch, it's not really very intimate compared to what he has seen tonight, Manners will come and save him soon.

To distract her, he offers, 'Is there something you'd like me to play for you?'

If she wants him to play, she'll have to take herself elsewhere.

But she merely laughs heartily and takes one of his hands in her own, massaging it gently with very skilled fingers.

'I'd certainly like you to play with me, you have such beautiful hands, can they play any other instruments as well as this piano?'

'Sure, I can play the harpsichord as well as anyone, and I'm not a mean hand with a harp, and even a viol...'

A finger on his lips smells rather strange and enticing, but still he shies from its touch. Unfortunately, that seems to please her, and in one fluid move she is straddling him, her bare thighs squeezing his legs firmly, and both her hands on his shoulders.

This is getting worse and worse, what can he do to get free?

'You're still a virgin, aren't you?'

He's not going to answer that, but he doesn't need to, she seems to smell it on him.

'Have you any idea how that turns me on? After all these men who know exactly what they want, to show a young man how to really please a woman, why don't you start by kissing me? Just one little kiss.'

She's certainly kissing him, tiny, soft kisses on his cheeks, his eyes, his lips even. He is totally frozen by now, the feel of her thighs against his, she's sitting right on top of his manhood and it's starting to get all kinds of ideas. And she is certain to feel it, she's virtually undressed, his hands so want to stroke her bare skin, he has to keep them firmly clasped behind his back, but that leaves him totally exposed to whatever pleases her to do to him. Where is Manners?

'Oh you poor thing, totally confused, why not just listen to your manliness, it knows what to do.'

And she rubs herself against it, this is not fair, he doesn't stand a chance!

'Maybe this will convince you to let go, come to mama.'

Two hands take a gentle but solid hold of his jaws, and pull his face into an almost fully exposed bosom. He has managed to avoid looking at it so far, but there is no resisting her, his frozen state has left him and he is as weak as a newborn lamb, his feelings totally overwhelming him, and when he feels her wealth of flesh all over his face, and his senses overload on the feminine scent of her body, his control just slips through his hands and is irrevocably lost.

One more moment and he'll grab her and kiss her, he knows that is what she wants, but everything remotely resembling discipline seems to have left him. Think of playing the piano, play a scale, up, yes it works! Now back down, and add the variations!

Even thinking of playing calms him down, and just as he manages to lift his head and prepares to shake himself free of the girl, no matter what those other men say or think of him, a calm voice speaks out.

'Melanie, I thought I told all of you to leave the pianist alone? Look what you've done to him, he's all shaken up.

I'm so sorry, Philip, they promised to stay away from you, I guess Melanie here has had a little too much of the brandy.'

Manners has the girl off his lap in a mere second, but her touch and scent cling to his face and have his lust befuddling his brain insistently.

'Better play something, Philip, it will set you mind to other things. Once again, I'm so sorry, I promised to take good care of you and I failed you.

Play that lively bit of you concerto, it'll put your mind on other things.'

Mechanically, Eric does, and soon enough it calms his body down, after which his mind quickly follows.

The rest of the evening, Manners stays close, and after his own near escape, Eric notices that the girls do not come on to Manners at all, nor does he show the slightest inclination to touch any of them. Is he so incredibly disciplined, is he in love with Georgiana, too?

The shocking thing is, it doesn't even matter. If Mr Darcy wants his sister to marry Mr Manners, she will. And she will not be unhappy with a man like Manners, but Eric does flatter himself that his own burning love for her would make her happier, even though she'd be less rich.


	55. Chapter 55

Chapter 65

Except for nearly losing his control, and his inability to tell off a paid woman, practically a girl, Eric doesn't regret this evening, it's taught him a lot about human nature in general, and gentility specifically. They seem mostly bored with life and eager for amusement, but generally not truly bad, except for Grenfell, who really doesn't respect anything or anyone, except Manners.

When he finally hits his bed he falls asleep instantly, exhausted with impressions and plain fatigue, he has been playing for hours on end. His sleep is dreamless, or maybe he dreams of the gorgeous Clementi, bought by a boorish gentleman to lure an unsuspecting gentle lady into a very weird and depressing situation.

But at the very least he doesn't dream of, or remember dreaming of, the enticing shape of the woman on his lap, kissing his face, her thighs giving his suppressed male feelings bad ideas.

The next morning everyone does appear for breakfast, but most of the gentlemen, and the lady of the house, look much the worse for wear. Only Lascelles and Manners seem at all awake, and Eric guesses that to the rest he must look disgustingly healthy and fresh-faced.

In fact he is very happy, for he is going back home today, to people with solid principles, who treat each other with dignity, and where he can be almost himself. Home. Is he fooling himself? Probably, but he will relish those moments with Georgiana and her kind family nonetheless.

But before their carriage is announced, he will play the Clementi one more time, and make sure he leaves it behind in tune.

It needs only a little adjusting to sound perfect once more, and he puts in an hour of practice on his new study piece. He knows the widow will be there, and indeed she is. Of course she wants to hear every shred of superior music she can, and somehow they need to talk in private for a few moments.

As he looks up from his sheet music, he finds her sitting exactly where he expects, in total silence, as he had requested yesterday, looking less wrung out than one would expect from her state of intoxication yesterday.

'My maid has a certain herb-tea that helps tremendously. None of the gentlemen ever ask how I manage to recover so quickly, so we merely let them suffer.

Manners didn't pick you up in a bar, did he?'

Eric shakes his head.

'Frankly, I don't think Manners has ever been to a bar. And your name isn't Philip either.'

'Not my first name, no.'

'Well, I'm merely glad I got to enjoy your playing, when you're famous I'll try to come and visit one of your concerts. Will you play that haunting piece for me once more? The one you played just after the first tuning, not the jangly thing, though that was very beautifully done as well.'

The music that is currently taking shape in his mind. Of course she should never have heard that, it's way too private still. But what does it matter, she must be desperately unhappy here, despite forcing her will on her son.

'I will, though it's very personal. Will you consider having your son buy you your own little place in London when he gets married? There are beautiful parks there, and there is art, music, theatre, something different to enjoy every night.'

'I suppose you are right. I don't really want to leave my garden behind, Bertie will have it torn down as soon as I turn my heels, but summer lasts only a few months, and the rest of the year I am bored to death. I will consider it, Philip, thank you very much for caring. I hope your love will soon be rewarded with the young lady's hand. She must be very special to inspire such beautiful music.'

Incredible, how one finds those who truly feel music everywhere and anywhere. But since there is not much to be said in reply, Eric starts to play. It will be slightly different this time, it's still evolving, and the Clementi is not perfectly suited to the melancholy music, its sound too fresh, too clear, but this lady needs some heartening, she's still young enough to live life, not stay stuck in the past.

They shake hands afterwards, in the presence of Manners, who has come to fetch him for their return journey.

'I will not tell Bertie that your bar-pianist is actually a rising star, Manners, but I expect an invitation once he's reached a certain eminence. And take care whom you match my son to, he was such a sweet boy, and he still has his good points, but he needs firm management. I'm thinking of moving to London, I'll hate to leave my garden, but I suppose I like being entertained better, and who is going to keep my son from mischief when I'm gone?'

Manners is clearly startled by Mrs Grenfell's penetrating remark, he probably sees things differently, but it's also very obvious the idea of Grenfell getting rid of his mother's dominance appeals to him.

'We can but try, Mrs Grenfell. I'm sure you'll love London, there are places bordering a park, you know, and some have large gardens. It's all a matter of how much dear Bertie is willing to spend to make his mother comfortable.'

Get rid of her, Manners means, and the lady knows it, but she ignores her son's friend as few others can.

'Are you ready to leave, Philip?' Manners asks.

'I am, though I will regret leaving the Clementi behind. Still, it cannot be helped.

Good bye, Mrs Grenfell, see you in London some day, maybe next winter?'

'It may be before then, if I am to get a house with a garden, I want to spend a summer having it made over to my exact liking.'

As they walk to the carriage, their luggage having been loaded already, Manners expresses his admiration.

'Do you have any idea what you just did, Eric? Grenfell has been desperate to get his mother out ever since his father died, but she refused resolutely, not wanting to let go of the good times she had as lady of the house.

You've seen the garden, seen the furnishings, all hers, Grenfell has no life of his own, we think that has made him the person he is, always ruled by his overbearing mother.

What did you say to her?'

'I felt sorry for her, she's obviously very unhappy, drinking so much, having her son engage in such debauchery, she knows what's going on. I merely suggested she might be happier in London, with a house of her own and art, music and theatre available every single day of the week, all year around. She seemed to agree.'

'But she is right, Grenfell does need firm handling, and though it may seem strange to you, we're carefully considering whom he should marry.'

'And will the lady in question have a say in it?'

'She can refuse him, her brother will neither force her to accept him, nor forbid her to marry another. She seems eager, actually.'

'He raved at me last night about all kinds of things, like how he nearly caught Miss Darcy, but Mr Darcy put a stop to that. Do you really think she liked him?'

'I am quite sure she didn't. But though Darcy warning Grenfell off was a ploy to please his sister, make no mistake, Eric, Darcy will decide whom Miss Darcy will marry, there is little doubt about that.

He may be very pleasant and generous, Fitzwilliam Darcy is also a dominant man who will not accept his sister marrying below her, despite doing so himself.'

Is Manners on to him? Is this a warning to guard his heart?

'Grenfell suggested Mr Darcy would want his sister to marry you, Frederick. Imagine him feeling rather sad for Miss Darcy, such a sweet thing with a man who never looked at a woman twice, that is what he said.

Of course he was so inebriated he could barely stand. Frankly, I'm glad you and Lascelles didn't carry on like the rest, yesterday, it would have made me think less of you, I'm afraid.'

'So you noticed we didn't show much interest in the girls?'

'Actually, Lascelles did, to a certain point. It is not my position to judge him for fondling a paid woman's breasts when he only got engaged yesterday to a very genteel girl, but at least he did not take any of them upstairs.

You did not even look at one, as Grenfell said, though you talked to them easily enough. I suppose you were both busy keeping an eye on the proceedings.'

'We did that, Eric, but that is not all of it. Grenfell apparently is more observant than most, of course besides my friends, few other people see me in these situations. And I thought my friends were otherwise occupied, but it appears I was wrong in Grenfell's case.

I have a proposition for you, Eric, one that will benefit us both, but I will also have to make a confession to you which will undoubtedly shock you. By making it, I am putting myself in your power, and though you may feel angry for my being honest, I beg you not to take action against me until you've heard all of it.

Will you hear me out?

I merely want to offer you the chance to be with Miss Darcy, of which there is no hope for you at all under normal circumstances.'

Well, Eric is staggered already, and he cannot say anything for shock of Manners indeed knowing his feelings for Georgiana.

Manners does observe soothingly, 'It's not that obvious, Eric, most people will not have noticed, you're both hiding it well.

You know I have talked to Miss Darcy very often, and very openly, and this one time she professed she didn't love you, or anyone else, in that way. Then the next time I saw her she was absent-minded, confused, something had changed during the days she had spent mostly with you. I gathered she fell for you then, and I suppose you have been in love with her for some time already before that, though Miss Darcy never mentioned it.

But I am very certain Grenfell is speaking the truth about Darcy, Eric, he will not let you marry his sister, he will want her to make an advantageous marriage to a gentleman with connections.

As Grenfell deduced, like me. In fact, I've asked Mr Darcy to allow me to pay court to his sister, even though she is rather young to be married.'

Of course Eric feels the ground drop beneath his feet, all his hopes have been in vain, as he knew from the start. They will be separated forever. At least she'll have a chance at happiness with Manners. His mind reels with devastation and a rising feeling of intense loss.

'So you're not the kind of man to rage in the face of adversity. You merely go to pieces.

I'm not your rival, Eric.'

Manners sounds so calm, so understanding.

'Grenfell doesn't know by half how right he is about myself and women, if he knew he'd kill me. I hope you are more understanding or I'll regret telling you this, I did not choose to be this way any more than you chose to fall in love with a gentle lady miles above you.

I do not love Miss Darcy. I can never love a woman, believe me I've tried, but I just cannot bring myself to love them.

Now you are getting angry, but please hear me out, I do not plan to play with Miss Darcy's feelings. I do not want to marry her for her money or her name, this is where my proposal comes into play.

I want Miss Darcy and myself to enter a marriage, yes, but not of love, of convenience, for the outside world and to get a few heirs.

For I love just as desperately as you do, Eric, and just as forbidden, even more so, at least your love for Miss Darcy would be seen as natural. It was even in the papers, I did see it, I pretended not to, to try and spare you the embarrassment.'

Eric can no longer feel anger or anything else, he is totally numb with shock. And Manners swallows audibly, he looks positively vulnerable, a sad sight, such a strong man brought to despair.

'I may be a respected gentleman, Eric, but I love as hopelessly as you.

My love for Simon would get both him and me ostracised from society, public shaming, physical abuse, even imprisonment or being murdered would be our fate.'

Of course. Simon. Who said his feelings of love just went to waste. In love with a man, a gentleman, as much above him as Miss Darcy is over Eric.

'Good, you haven't spat on me yet. But you look singularly thoughtful, Eric, do you despise me now?'

'That's not it, Frederick, I'm still shocked at your assurance that Mr Darcy will not even consider letting Georgiana marry me, even if she loves me as much as I love her.

And some other things just fell into place in my mind, things Simon told me. I feel for both of you, of course, but something Simon said still doesn't make any sense.

You tell me you love him desperately, he seems as far gone in love as you are, but insecure about your feelings for him. He told me he envied me my ability to put my feelings in music, his just went to waste, taking the morsels of kindness thrown at him and trying to survive on them.'

'Simon doubts me? Why? I worship him, his beauty, his intelligence, his abilities. And he's so good to me, always.'

'He's a servant, Frederick, you're a gentleman, he could be a way to pass your holidays pleasantly. Servants get treated that way.'

Well, this is a singular bit of news. Manners not after Georgiana at all. Of course it doesn't make things one bit easier, but Eric'd do anything to be with Georgiana.

Even love a woman who is married to another? And live with two men who are in love? Would they hold hands and kiss where Georgiana could see it?

None of them could ever hold hands in public, not with the person they loved.

'That thought hurts, I thought I showed my love clearly, I thought he trusted me. There has been another before him, but not like my friends and those paid women. I don't do that, like you don't.

Nor does Lascelles. He was checking up on the staff, find out whether Grenfell was taking advantage of their maids. But apparently Mrs Grenfell has enough clout to stop her son from committing such abominations at home.

So you don't hate me, Eric?'

'I don't, Frederick, though I don't want Georgiana to marry anyone but me, I suppose you understand that. But I do feel for you, and for Simon. I like him, he has been very good to me, very understanding and helpful. I wondered why he was single and so sad about it when he could have any girl he liked with his looks and his steady position.'

'I will fall on my knees before him and apologise for not declaring my everlasting love to him before. Then I will declare him my everlasting love, and beg him to stay with me if I manage to find a way to do so.

If Miss Darcy accepts my offer for a marriage of convenience, I want to ask Mr Darcy to let me take over his patronage of you, and I'll beg him to let me hire Simon as my personal valet, and we can all live on my estate together and be with the person we love best in this world.'

'Won't that cause a lot of gossip?' Eric asks, confused to the extreme and in need of some contemplation of what such an arrangement would mean.

'Horrible gossip, which is why we would start by travelling the continent together and making you the best pianist ever. My current valet would leave me if he knew I was going to travel, giving me a perfect excuse to hire a new one. And my staff cannot gossip if I'm not around.

By the time we returned I'd have a reason to be close to Simon, you know men often are very close to their valet, though some personal servants abuse that intimacy by gossiping even more.

Strangely enough, what you do with my wife is my business, and would cause much less outrage, even if it were to become known.'

But that doesn't sound at all right to Eric. Having an affair with someone else's wife? The love of his life married to another?

'My head is spinning, Frederick, I need to think this over really well. Of course I swear I will not breathe a word to anyone, not even Simon if you don't want me to.'

Manners is obviously relieved to hear Eric's mild reaction, but frankly, he hasn't completely registered everything, yet. Two men together? In love? How is that possible? Does Mr Darcy suspect?

All Eric's better feelings revolt against letting Manners marry Georgiana, though of course he knows he will not have the least influence on that event. But imagine them exchanging vows in front of witnesses, and Eric looking on, seeing the love of his life married to another man, who doesn't even love her? Who is yearning for a man while he kisses her. Can that be borne?

Can he bear leaving the life he has now? Altogether? For that is the only alternative, strike out on his own, build a life somewhere else. If Manners wants to marry Georgiana, he will, and she will be forced to live under his roof without love.

Eric will not be able to witness her unhappiness, he'd have to stay and love her in shame or be out of her life forever. To see his beloved as lonely as poor Mrs Grenfell, before her life has even truly started, would be too much to bear. Wouldn't that be too much to bear for Manners and Simon, too? Wouldn't that ruin their happiness, to see her pine away while being happy together?

She'd never take a lover, she's way too proud for that, and thus she'd spend her life surrounded by sweet and caring brothers, but without passion. Wouldn't Manners' proposal be better for all of them? Why bother with conventions, if he can have the love of his life, and she can be loved like a woman as well as a sister?

A voice breaks his thoughts.

'I'm sorry to do this to you, Eric. I've always known I wouldn't have a normal marriage, with a woman I loved and my own children to raise, I've had years and years to come to terms with that.

And now I'm just breaking this to you as bluntly as if I'm buying a loaf of bread, not making a life's decision. But please consider it, for it may be the only way you'll get to be with the woman who was obviously meant for you. You look so right together, lost to the world in your mutual love of music.

Imagine the fun you'll have translating those Bach-works from harpsichord to piano-forte, you'll both love it!'

He knew all along. It's just incredible, who else knows? Simon suspects, Eric is certain of that, is Mr Darcy already fuming inside at Eric's audacity? He didn't give the impression of being angry, he actually seemed rather sorry to see Eric go, even for a mere day and night.

And Mrs Darcy, does she pity Eric, in doubt whether to fight her domineering husband over his sister's right to marry below her class? Of course to lose out eventually, Mrs Darcy is s strong woman, but she's hardly more than a girl herself, while her husband is nearly ten years her senior and as self-assured as a landed gentleman can be.

'Can we please talk about something innocuous for the last few miles? I've upset you immensely, and you need to be composed when we get back.

What did you think of the instrument, did Lascelles choose well?'

That may be the one subject with any chance to distract Eric from the situation, and he does calm down and talks about the innovations in the Clementi, and the way it hold its tune much better, how he really wants to own a piano like that one day.

'It would travel well, too. Though it is not very well-suited to my own concerto, it lends itself better to virtuous works.'

They talk a little more about various subjects, and when the carriage halts before Mr Darcy's town house, Eric feels a bit better, still confused, but he can retreat to his own room immediately to lose himself in practise, whereas Manners must be as distraught, he has entrusted a relative stranger, a rival, actually, with a very dangerous secret after all, but he is company and needs to be entertaining.

Eric supposes Manners can greet Simon heartily, and probably sneak in his room at night, but they will never ever go anywhere as equals, they will never share their lives in public.

Of course if they accept Manners' proposal, Eric and Georgiana will not either. Maybe sharing disappointment makes it less poignant?


	56. Chapter 56

Chapter 66

But Eric's plans to retreat for some serious contemplation come to nothing, for Georgiana is eagerly awaiting his arrival, Kitty by her side. Will Georgiana agree to enter a marriage of convenience? She is still so young, and independently wealthy, she can wait to meet a suitable gentleman who can love her.

'Would your brother mind very much if we hunt your attic for an old harpsichord? I know how to tune one, know how to play one, too. We can make a start on the Bach, it'll be great fun for you to learn, it's very different from playing the piano.'

That will certainly keep him from too much thinking.

'Sure, we used to play in the attic all the time when we were younger, in the holidays, when Fitzwilliam was home from school. But I guess anything stored out there will be really old, too old maybe to be of any value. Shouldn't we first check the rooms filled with clutter, stored after the attic was filled up? Fanny and Simon found a lot of useful stuff in there, but they don't care about instruments, they were looking for accessories to go with our new dresses.'

Without letting anyone know where they are going, Georgiana skips up the stairs, Kitty following. Eric is deep in thought again.

If Manners wasn't so convinced Georgiana loves Eric, he would doubt again. She really treats him as her brother, which is very pleasant at this moment, for it saves him embarrassment and spares his nerves. But of course Kitty's here, and it's as if Georgiana has decided to be as much of an adolescent girl as she can whenever she's in company with Kitty, which at this very moment is all for the best.

'What's up with you, Mr Fielding?'

Georgiana's coming to get him, her voice sounds exuberant, she's so happy to see him! Doesn't she see there is nothing but heartbreak in store for them?

She's really close now, Kitty waiting for them at the top of the stairs.

'You look so sad, Eric, I would have expected you to be excited about the concert tomorrow. I can't imagine Mr Manners having airs towards you either. Whatever can be the matter?'

Of course she knows they can't talk about it here, on the stairs to the top floor, Kitty waiting for them.

'I'll just have to cheer you up then, come on, let's go on a treasure hunt and get horribly dusty.'

Suddenly she realises something.

'Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't even give you the chance to change from your travelling clothes and freshen up a little.'

Her face is sad now, apparently she really values being well-mannered, but she truly cannot fault herself for this expedition. He sends her his sweetest smile, he can't help it, she's so incredibly cute looking like this.

'You cannot help it, Georgiana, it was my idea to go hunting for a harpsichord, remember?'

Oh, she loves him all right, his smile causes her to blush fiery red, and she actually takes his hand, looking as if she is going to kiss him again, but not a mere brush this time. But she controls herself and observes airily, 'You're right, of course, it was your idea. I always feel so guilty about forgetting some etiquette or other, I had governess after governess trying to teach me some manners. Mrs Annesley was the worst, she always wanted me to sit with the ladies and talk. I like her much better now she's no longer bossing me around.

Come!'

And she pulls him up the stairs by his hand, laughing again, her hand stronger than it looks, like his own, playing the piano all day has that effect.

'Do we start with the oldest stuff in the attic? Or do we start with the youngest stuff, that's mostly gathered in several rooms up here, you'll remember the one where we tuned the old piano. We can skip that room, of course.'

'Let's start with the attic,' Kitty begs, 'old stuff is great fun, maybe there will be toys from when your brother was just a boy.'

That is a weird thought, dignified Mr Darcy running around in shorts, clinging to his beautiful mother's dress-skirts.

'The attic is way older, Kitty, it will be our grandfather's toys there.'

The very thought obviously excites her, who knows what they'll find. Besides a harpsichord.

Eric is curious about the oldest stuff, too, and he offers his opinion.

'That doesn't mean it's impossible to find great instruments there, Miss Darcy. Piano-fortes improve with every new type, but harpsichords have been made in exactly the same way for decades at least, maybe even centuries. A very old one, if it's still sound, will be as good as a new one.

And even if we don't find an instrument, I'm getting kind of curious what your great-grandfather thought worth keeping.'

The prospects of a rich family's attic cheers him a lot, there may be real treasures to be found there, though they will be covered in a thick layer of dust.

And dusty it is, starting with the narrow winding stairs behind a very heavy door that Georgiana leads them towards. It's covered with dust and there are cobwebs all over, and the girls insist Eric must go first, because of spiders.

They are positively giggly together, but it's good for Georgiana to forget about propriety and genteel manners for a few moments, Kitty's exuberance is as good for Georgiana as the latter's accomplishments and propriety are useful to Kitty. Small wonder Mr Darcy loves Kitty's elder sister so much, she has the same spirit combined with natural intelligence and a lot more education.

Of course Eric makes the most of the situation, playing the hero for not being afraid of spiders, or ghosts, for this place does bring those to mind.

The girls follow, now a lot more quiet and rather impressed by the mysterious atmosphere, and soon they reach the top of the stairs and see the attic in all its ancient glory.

The ceiling is higher than expected, they're directly below the roof of course, the beams supporting it are visible and to Eric's relief, quite sturdy.

There is barely enough light coming from a few windows, they should have brought lamps, and Georgiana calls out, already on her way back to the stairs, 'I'm going to ring for Simon, have him fetch us some lamps. He'll love browsing with us, and if we do find a harpsichord he can help us carry it.'

And she's off, no longer afraid of spiders or cobwebs.

'Isn't this a picture out of a Gothic novel, Mr Fielding?' Kitty observes, 'I'm glad you're with us, I tend to scare myself with my own fantasies.

Georgiana missed you so much yesterday, she sat at the piano all day, playing that sonata you taught her. Don't tell her I said so, she'd be so mad!'

Before Eric has recovered from the realisation that even Kitty seems to have noticed something going on between them, she assumes a listening pose and observes, 'There she is, I can hear her on the stairs already.'

'Simon was very quick to react, of course he was curious who rang from the second floor, no-one lives there. He loved the idea of being involved in an attic-hunt, he's coming back instantly with enough lamps.

Let's start beneath the window.'

There is a lot of furniture, sofa's and easy chairs, even a stack of dining chairs. Most seats are covered with white sheets but the legs sticking out underneath give their style away. Of course they are very elaborate, curled and twisted. The seats will be crushed velvet, stuffed with horse-hair, like Mrs Grenfell's furniture. Though this seems a bit slimmer, it's probably much older still.

Four-poster beds, tables, buffets, enough priceless furniture to fill Mr Zumpe's entire house once over.

Directly under one widow they find a large box with Persian rugs, and matching pillows, also covered with a sheet to stop dust from entering, but in vain, this has been lying here for such a long time, the dust has gotten into everything.

Kitty sneezes, and from the stairs they hear a gay, 'Bless you, Miss Catherine!'

It's Simon already, he must really be eager for a bit of fun.

He carries a tray with several lamps, and he insists on placing them by himself.

'Mrs Annesley will kill me if one of you girls spills burning oil and sets the place ablaze. I'm here to guard the lamps, but I'm going to admire your spoils from a distance.'

With four lamps placed on safe, stable surfaces, the girls can look in boxes and under sheets, while Eric, as an adult, is allowed a lamp of his own to merely scan the furthest corners in search of a usable harpsichord. His hopes of finding one are rising, this is not rubble, but quality furniture, its only reason for having been discarded the quirks of ancient fashion. Some of this stuff is nearly back in fashion, the sleeker, more stylised pieces he can spy out here and there.

Turning a corner around a tall armoire, he nearly exclaims in fear as he sees a human shape loom up behind it. Holding the lamp high, he can see it's a mannequin, used to fit clothes, it's incredibly life-like, probably the reason it was discarded in the first place, who'd want to see that in their bedroom every night?

There is a toy horse the size of a real pony, high chairs with narrow seats, probably to allow small children to sit at the dining table, and dozens of saddles, normal ones and ladies' saddles, and an endless number of chests in different styles for the girls to rummage in.

Finally, Eric can see a promising shape, it looks like a piano, but smaller and narrower, it may very well be a harpsichord. If so, it's a really old one, for it is clear the attic was filled up from back to front, and this is near the end.

Clearing away a few boxes towards one side, and removing several very dusty curtains from the top, he spies a lovely little instrument, it seems priceless, lacquered wood with mother-of-pearl inlays.

It's a task to free it enough to get to the keyboard, but he manages, places the lamp on top of the instrument, and plays a scale.

Cries from the front signal Georgiana's imminent arrival, good, they can take it to the kind of path in the middle together, and look inside to see how bad the damage of years, decades, in storage is. It's not too cold up here, though it's right under the roof. Of course, heat rises up, and it isn't damp here either, so there is some hope the little instrument will still be usable.

As Kitty holds the lamp, Eric and Georgiana strain to lift the harpsichord carefully, to the path in the middle, where Simon can bring another lamp without losing sight of the other ones. He is taking his responsibility seriously, but of course a fire can start in a second, and it won't spare a rich man's house any more than a poor man's.

They check the wood carefully for cracks, hold a lamp to the interior to see whether the strings and the plucking mechanism are complete. No hammers in a harpsichord, Georgiana will love the sound, well, once it's tuned well and with the right music to bring out its qualities.

'Let's go for this one,' he offers, 'I think it's in as good a condition as we'll find any instrument in an attic. It wasn't broken when it was relegated here, poor thing. If we quench the lamps but one, can you help me lift it down the stairs, Simon?'

'Oh, please Mr Fielding, can we spend a little more time up here? It such fun, look at that large toy-horse, I want to see all of it.'

Kitty doesn't care three straws about pianos or harpsichords, she likes rugs and pillows and antique furniture, and frankly, Eric would gladly use this beautiful quality to furnish his own house, if he had one.

'We can ask Fitzwilliam to let us decorate one of the guest-rooms with this stuff, Kitty, it could be your room when you stay with us. We'd take those chairs..'

'Yes, and that bed over there, but with those curtains..'

Those girls will be very happy here for at least another hour, and Simon looks so very eager to join them in their search.

'Simon, will you allow a grown man to relieve you from your station for half an hour? I can watch those lamps, I promise, and you can join the girls hunting out ancient decorations.'

Simon really, really wants to. There is so much silk stored here, dyed in rich colours, and velvet embroidered with gold thread, and life-like multi-coloured hunting scenes. And Eric doesn't know a girl that wouldn't want such a lovely life-sized pony carved out of wood and painted in emeralds, mauves, purples and golds in her own room. Those colours certainly aren't mere yellows and blues and greens, they need those beautiful names to describe their richness.

'Yes, please, Eric. I so love scouring these memories of old times, the quality they used was so incredible. You're satisfied with your little piano? It's certainly beautiful and very cute. It sounded weird, though, are you sure it's all right?'

Smiling, Eric corrects Simon's assumption.

'It's supposed to sound like that, Simon, it's not a piano, it's a harpsichord. It's horribly out of tune, but it seems to be functioning well. And I'm very happy with it, Manners gave Miss Darcy a compilation of Bach-works, and they should be played on a harpsichord, not a piano. But let them have their fun first.'

Of course Manners' name causes Simon to listen attentively, and he comments, 'Seems like you and him are rather familiar after last night.'

Poor Simon, as a servant, and someone else's at that, he is not included in any of Manners' activities, which is rather normal since servants tend to have their own lives to lead, but in Simon's case it must sting, and make him very insecure.

'He asked me permission to use my first name in private, and leave off the honorific in public. And bid me to reciprocate. We did talk, Simon. And I saw a lot of things, you were totally right about Grenfell, did you suspect what they would be doing there?'

'Frederick told me. You mean to say he told you about us?'

Simon is almost fearful to hear Eric's reply.

'He did.'

Now Simon's in shock.

'He had his reasons, Simon, but they're his to tell you.'

On impulse, Eric adds, 'He's not toying with you, Simon, I remember what you said to me when you found me in dejection that time, but he told me he is desperately in love with you.

Desperate, Simon. Doesn't that more or less describe our own state of mind?'

'It does, Eric, for me at least. It's so hard to love someone so far above me. He's such a superior man, so much out of my league, I just cannot imagine he'd truly love me. Though I couldn't imagine him playing with anyone's feelings, either. I merely thought I was fooling myself, my admiration causing me to read signals in him that he wasn't actually sending.'

Simon has become a real friend to Eric in the short time they've known each other. Eric's strange status between gentry and staff makes it easier to connect, and apparently Simon feels the same.

'I'm glad you know, Eric. You're not offended?'

'Frankly, I haven't had the time to decide what to think. You'll find me even more naïve than you thought, when I tell you it didn't even occur to me that a man could love another man like that.

Frederick told me this morning, and other things that sent me reeling. I was planning to think them over while practising, but then Miss Darcy and Miss Catherine were waiting for me and I thought I'd find another way to not think about my own situation.'

Now it's Simon's turn to speak soothingly.

'You've given me hope, Eric, now let me give you hope, too. As you cannot tell me some things because they're Frederick's to tell, so some things aren't mine to talk about either. But your situation is less desperate than you think. Miss Darcy shows every sign of a serious attachment to you, and just as Frederick will find a way to be together, she will find a way to be with whom she wants. Don't lose heart, Eric.'

And with that cryptic remark, he joins the girls in their quest for quaint pillows and knick-knacks, while Eric guards the lamps and tries to get some of the dust off the little harpsichord with one of the large sheets lying about.

How can Simon compare Georgiana with Manners? The one has control over everything, the other none at all, not even over her own life.


	57. Chapter 57

After a full hour, two of the lamps sputter and go out. Eric's stomach is complaining that it's high time for lunch, though they haven't heard a bell, yet.

The three hunters gather around the harpsichord and Georgiana states with enthusiasm, 'So we'll have the bed over there, and those four quaint chairs?'

'And the low table with iron fittings, it's so unique! And one large Persian and a few of those smaller ones?'

'Do you think your brother will allow you to turn a room into a gypsy-wagon, Miss Darcy?'

Simon seems to highly doubt this.

'I don't know, but I'm certainly going to ask. I've never cared much for style, or furnishings, but I just love these, and I'm going to have as many of them in a room as I can fit in. We've more rooms than we'll ever use in this house, so what if Kitty and I turn one into an Arabian harem, or a gypsy-wagon?'

Simon shrugs, and offers, 'Can you carry the lamps, while Mr Fielding and I take the harpsichord?

Are you certain, Mr Fielding, that you don't want me to ring for Bob to help me carry? You have to be careful with your hands after all.'

That will be the day, that Eric refuses to do his own carrying!

'I'm good, Simon, it's not a very large or heavy instrument, if it turns out to be too heavy after all, we can always ask someone to help out.'

Simon insists on taking the lower position, carrying most of the weight, but he is not a large man himself, and slender, and halfway down the steep stairs it becomes clear he has some trouble supporting the small but sturdy instrument.

'I'm afraid I'll need help myself, Mr Fielding, it's just too heavy for me. Please have a few moments' patience while I support it on a step and ring for some help.'

At that very moment, a calm voice speaks up.

'Here, let me give you a hand, Simon, that is too heavy for one man. I was hoping for a share of the fun, but I'll settle for a part of the hard labour instead.'

It's Manners, and now Eric knows his secret, he thinks he can hear the love contained in those few sentences. He wants to be with Simon as much as Eric wants to be with Georgiana, he must feel excluded from the things that Simon does as much as the other way around.

Why didn't they invite him to join their search? He's a bit older than the three of them, actually the four of them, with Simon included, but everyone likes a treasure hunt.

'That is a lot of weight for such a small cabinet, though it is lovely. Did you forget to clear it out, ladies?'

Does Manners pretend to be ignorant, or is he pulling their leg?

Eric is certainly not going to fall for it, but Georgiana is willing to please her friend.

'It's a harpsichord, Mr Manners, to play your Bach on.'

'I was thinking of having yourself and Fielding here translate those pieces to piano, Miss Darcy. But I suppose you have other plans, Fielding?'

'To make a correct translation, one needs to speak both languages, wouldn't you say, Manners? So to translate your beautiful gift, Miss Darcy needs to learn to play the harpsichord as well as the piano. I'm very sure you'll love to hear it, I assure you your efforts lifting this instrument will not be wasted.

I'm glad you turned up, Manners, I was afraid Simon would be crushed because of my eagerness to teach Miss Darcy a new skill.'

'I will never allow Simon to be crushed, body or soul.

It was no accident I came by to investigate. I must have felt he was in danger. Oh, all right, I was a bit miffed to miss out on a fun project, whatever it was. Despite looking like a minister, I'm merely human, you know.'

That is meant for Simon.

Eric cannot see him in the narrow, dark stairwell, but Simon must be melting right now, Manners' broad arms supporting his own slender ones, the mellow voice professing his concern for him, and his need to protect him.

Are they gazing into each other's eyes right now?

No, they're not, for the harpsichord is lifted up once more, and it moves down steadily, someone taking most of the weight so it's very easy for Eric to keep up, he's merely guiding now instead of carrying it.

Once he is out of the stairwell and into the hall, he can see Simon is not doing any lifting at all. Manners is so strong, he is carrying the harpsichord by himself, Eric merely supporting the other end. And Simon does look a bit overcome, he watches the scene with undisguised admiration, and somehow Eric can even understand him.

Manners is a strange mixture of the assurance and dominance of his class, and something completely the opposite, a vulnerable quality.

'Hey, Eric, I asked you where you want it? Where were you? Miles away apparently.'

Of course he never thought of that, and he looks at Georgiana helplessly.

She throws him a ravishing smile, she's feeling his vulnerable quality right now, no doubt, and says, 'Definitely in the drawing-room. I'm sure Elizabeth will not want to miss out on this. Can you manage that, Mr Manners? You're pretty strong, aren't you?'

'Thank you, Miss, and I'm good, if Fielding thinks he'll manage. Can you help him with his side, Simon? The next stairs will be much broader, plenty of space for two skinny guys side by side. We don't want to risk his valuable hands so shortly before an important concert.

But I want to see the attic afterwards, I know you're dying to try that instrument, but won't it need to settle for an hour or so, anyway? Everyone set? Let's go.'

In minutes they reach the drawing-room, where both Mr and Mrs Darcy look up from their books. Eric feels very embarrassed, lugging a dusty old instrument into their main room without asking permission first, but Manners looks the same as ever.

While they place the harpsichord where Georgiana points, no-one speaks, but as soon as they have set it down, Mr Darcy raises an eyebrow and comments dryly.

'We have staff, you know, Manners, Mr Fielding, who can do heavy lifting. Though I'm impressed by your team-work.'

Then he looks at his sister with a question in his face.

'It's a harpsichord, Fitzwilliam, Mr Fielding is going to teach me how to play the Bach Mr Manners gifted me for Christmas.'

Still the question, but Georgiana understands instantly.

'We got it from the attic. It was all the way in the back, hidden under ancient velvet curtains. Isn't it a pretty little thing? I said to put it in the drawing-room, for we'll spend quite some time on it and I thought you might want to remember what I look like during that time.'

She's positively cheeky to her brother, and rightfully so, for both he and Mrs Darcy merely look at her fondly, and Mrs Darcy observes, 'I'm glad, I really want to hear it. I have some vague memories of a harpsichord, from when I was a young girl, but they soon went out of fashion when the piano-forte took over.'

Now Manners has a comment to add.

'Great, I admit I gifted Miss Darcy those Bach-compositions in the hopes she'd translate them to piano with Mr Fielding, but this is a neat little instrument and I'll help you hope it's salvageable.

Can I please look at your attic now? I was so disappointed to miss out on your expedition.'

He truly does look disappointed, too.

'Mr Manners, please give me time to refill two of these lamps, and I'll be right back to keep an eye on them once more while the girls show you their treasures.'

Simon doesn't wait for a reply, he disappears silently, taking not just the two empty lamps, but the entire tray.

'Why don't you come too, Elizabeth, Fitzwilliam? Kitty and I have an idea to redecorate a room and we'd like your opinion. It'll be rather outrageous, I warn you.'

Elizabeth is thrilled to see Georgiana show some initiative, dumping a dusty old instrument in Fitzwilliam's drawing-room just like that, making plans to redecorate a room with stuff from the attic, good for her!

When Simon brings the lamps, ready and burning, they all follow Georgiana and Kitty upstairs.

Poor Mr Fielding seems to feel a little out of place suddenly, he didn't have any time to recover from his excursion, Georgiana practically forced him to pay attention to her by waiting for him in the hall when he returned.

And now she is directing her attention to Mr Manners and Fitzwilliam mostly, understandable of course, those two have not seen their spoils yet, and Fitzwilliam will have to consent to making over a room, and choose which one they're going to have at their disposal.

Of course Mr Fielding has no way of knowing that Georgiana truly pined for him when he was gone, she was a sad sight, playing their sonata over and over, spending the usual time with Kitty but with much less energy. Somehow Kitty seems to feel Mr Lascelles' absence much less. But maybe that is because Mr Lascelles and Kitty have come to an agreement, and Georgiana is still very shy towards Mr Fielding, making him as yet unaware their difference in class will not have to come between them.

Elizabeth decides to chat with him a little, to make him feel welcome once more.

'Mr Fielding, you've been missed, did you learn what you needed to know, yesterday?'

He looks at her very seriously, as if he has learned more than he cared for, maybe they told him more about the charity, he admits he has not been very aware of the world around him, maybe it shocked him to find out how many needy people there are in a city like London.

'I did, Mrs Darcy, I feel quite secure playing my own concerto tomorrow for my largest audience so far. I am very glad you will all be with me, though, strangely enough I've come to look upon this house as home already, and I was very glad to come back here, especially since I was obviously very welcome.'

Still that certain something doesn't go away, he is not at ease, something must have happened.

'I'm glad to hear that, Mr Fielding. You must be very tired with your journey, you look rather worn out. Don't be afraid you'll affront us if you need to catch up on some sleep or practise. You know we want you to feel free to live your own life.'

'I know, Mrs Darcy, I admire you so much to be able to help someone without claiming them. Your husband, too. And Mr Manners has been very kind, very familiar with me as well. I count myself very lucky to have fallen in with you.'

Then why doesn't he look happier? His future looks bright, Georgiana is obviously smitten with him, what's his problem? Does he still fear Fitzwilliam's opposition? It's not unthinkable, but it's nothing Elizabeth can help resolve, Georgiana needs to do that herself.

'Are you going to play your entire concerto tomorrow?'

Talking music always makes Mr Fielding happy.

'I am, I've received several encouraging reactions yesterday and I dare tackle the whole thing. There's new music making itself heard already, Mrs Darcy, my mind is filled nearly to the brim with it. In the new year I will write it down, though it's not exactly heartening to listen to.'

Well, that must be it, then. If he hears sad music inside his mind all day, that must reflect on his mood. Tuning and exploring the harpsichord will help, it's virtually impossible to play higher feelings on a harpsichord, so generally speaking his mood should improve. Shouldn't it?

The trip to the attic takes another half hour, and when they return, Georgiana and Kitty have permission to restyle a room any way they like, and to take whatever they want from the attic, on condition that they have heavy things carried by strong servants, and take Simon along to care for any lamps they use.

'And have everything cleaned well, Georgie, it's been in that attic for decades, who knows how many mice have celebrated on it.'

'We will, Fitzwilliam, thank you so much!'

She falls on his neck and kisses him with all the love she feels for her brother.

'I suppose you'd better use the room next door to Kitty's, I dare not offer it to guests anymore because it's so old-fashioned. In an ugly way, that is not almost fashionable again.

And have all the furniture stored, or shall we donate it to charity? Apparently we have plenty of better-looking old furniture that will be back in fashion much sooner because it's ever so much older.'

Now Elizabeth wants to kiss him, but in a different way, he can be so funny these days, and he's taking real pains to be actively kind to Mr Fielding. Not just polite and honest, but nice, to make him feel at home, and wanted.

But where Mr Fielding seems very familiar with Mr Manners since their day together, calling each other by their last names only, he still treats Fitzwilliam with incredible respect. Well, until Georgiana speaks, that will probably not change.

After lunch, Jane and Bingley return, they have been checking out their own town-house, Jane couldn't wait to see it, and small wonder.

The Colonel is also back, he was visiting some club he is a member of, something to do with the army.

Elizabeth's mother and father, and Mary, are visiting with the Gardiners for the day, to give them all a rest from the four children, Elizabeth supposes. Or maybe her mother's nerves need a bit of rest from the constant use of the piano, though Mary usually plays all day, too.

While they all play cards at the table, Georgiana and Mr Fielding start on the harpsichord, and now Mr Fielding is happy again.

He tirelessly rummages in the interior of the little instrument while Georgiana strikes a key, until he is satisfied and they move on to another key. Once, he leaves the room, and comes back with a large leather case that seems to be his most precious possession besides his piano, for it contains everything he needs, his music sheets, and now he magics a spare string from a pocket.

Calling Georgiana over, he shows her how to change a broken string, and they look so incredibly cute, bent over that piano together.

Mr Manners is watching, too, and Elizabeth would swear he wears the exact same expression she is sporting herself, an almost tender fondness, as if he has not asked to be allowed to try to win Georgiana's affection.

Elizabeth would swear he knows it's already engaged elsewhere, so why would he want to woo her, and why doesn't he hate Mr Fielding but seems to be hard at work winning his affections, too?

Still inclined to trust the man, but why?, she tries to concentrate on her cards, but it's already too late, her distraction has made her play abominably and she loses hand after hand until she's out. Oh well, the instrument has been tuned anyway, and she decides to be impolite towards the card-players and sit close to where the action will undoubtedly start really soon.

Do Georgiana and Mr Fielding realise at all they look like a couple already? They're not even sitting close, they're not touching at all, but there is such a wordless intimacy between them, they're no longer teacher and pupil. Mr Fielding must be totally unaware of this, or he'd know Fitzwilliam would have taken measures if he objected. He must still think he's hiding his affection well.

Now he looks at Georgiana, and she gets up, undoubtedly to fetch the beautifully bound book from her room, at speed of course.

Meanwhile, he plays a few chords, and a memory from childhood forces itself upon Elizabeth, but it's so vague she still cannot place it. Better ask papa tomorrow, he may remember where she heard a harpsichord.

Soon, the book is on the tiny stand of the instrument, and Mr Fielding speaks what seem to be his first words for at least half an hour.

'Do you mind if I start? See if I remember?'

Of course that statement doesn't need a spoken reply, and he looks up a certain page and concentrates for a few seconds.

To launch into a complete piece of music, totally different from his piano-playing, but as virtuous. After maybe five minutes he stops, laughing.

'That is so confusing, I haven't played a harpsichord for years. I keep feeling for the pedals. We can almost learn together, Miss Darcy, I have so much to re-learn.'

'When did you learn, Mr Fielding?'

Georgiana asks the exact question Elizabeth wanted to herself.

'Mr Zumpe manufactured harpsichords before he started on piano's. I learned to play them from the start, for though he didn't manage to sell many of them in England anymore, they were still quite popular abroad. My Prague master taught me real virtuosity, but I've lost my edge for lack of practise. I guess we'll both get plenty of that, but I doubt it will last, as soon as we've a grip on these pieces we'll want to play them on the piano.

Now let me show you the differences.'

And they are both gone from the world once more. Elizabeth returns to the card-players, Fitzwilliam greeting her eagerly, he always does when they have been apart, even for a less than half an hour.


	58. Chapter 58

The next day is the thirty-first of December, the night of the charity ball.

After a morning of shopping with Georgiana, bringing Simon as their liveried attendant, Kitty has her beautiful dress, complete with hat and silver chain. Mr Lascelles has returned, and is making himself useful on their new project, the gypsy-room, as they have dubbed it.

Georgiana loves it, the furniture is a mishmash of styles, though every piece fits into their style perfectly, it looks outlandish, organic and over the top. Everything is coloured, they have found fabrics their prim ancestors must have been abhorred to behold when some family-member brought them from their travels, quickly stowed away in the attic to not have to throw them out, but to not ever have to see them again either.

Georgiana and Kitty love them, and put them on display in their fantasy-room.

The large wooden pony has been taken downstairs, it looks almost real, they deck it out in coloured fabrics and blankets as if it's a sheik's desert horse.

Eric spends a lot of time in his own apartment, he's downhearted, whenever they are together he seems fine, but as soon as they're in company he is absent-minded, lost in thoughts, and obviously not pleasant ones. Georgiana worries, he is mental agony, and she can relieve his suffering, if only she can find the right words.

He still plays as well as usual, even better, so maybe she'd better wait for tonight, she doesn't want to spoil his mood by confusing him. What to do?

She sneaks out to listen at his door, it's a mere four doors away from their project after all, and at first he's working on his study-piece, but the second time she walks by he is playing a truly heart-rending composition, the Zumpe giving it extra weight with its dark tones in the muffled room. The Zumpe sounded much better, lighter, in his bright, airy room at his patron's house.

But tears will not avail her now, she'd better think of a solution to this problem. She's just too young to make such an important decision all by herself, still she doesn't want someone else deciding for her either. Elizabeth fought a painful battle to win freedom for her sister, and Georgiana is not going to let her down by begging Fitzwilliam for advice, she will find a solution.

As Simon said, a few days' heartache won't kill Eric, he'll be extra happy. Their visitors will go home soon, and then she'll be able to really show her affection, and tell him about her brother's promise.

Mr Manners is very nice, he's helping them out with their decorating, too, and he really does his best to hearten her, but Georgiana cannot hide her worries altogether, sometimes she must check on Eric, see if it's getting worse, if he stops playing she'll go in and just tell him.

'I'm going to have a little talk with Mr Fielding about tonight, Miss Darcy. He must be getting a bit nervous, maybe I can talk some heart into him. Will you excuse me?'

'Of course, Mr Manners. I'm sure he's looking forward to playing for such a large audience, though. He's very ambitious, you know.'

'I know, Miss Darcy, and I have a plan to help him get ahead in his career, without robbing you of your teacher, don't worry. Please trust me in this, Miss Darcy, I really have his best interest at heart.

See you later!'

With enough dedication, and some affectionate attention from Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam, who admire their efforts and even sit down on one of the sofa's to really experience the feeling of the room, time passes quickly, and it is soon time for dinner, and after that, dressing up. Fanny will be tickled, and frankly, Georgiana is looking forward to dressing up, she knows her new finery will make an impact, even though she bought it ready-made.

No-one knows accessories like Simon does, and Fanny is proving a mighty capable apprentice.

Mr Bennet drops by to laugh at Kitty and herself, he is having a field day making smart remarks over their gypsy-wagon, he calls it a harem, though Georgiana supposes they don't have real furniture in a harem, but his teasing is friendly, and it makes a nice change from worrying.

Mrs Bennet and Mary of course cannot see the sense of doing this, and they soon leave to do something they deem useful, like making a long abstract of a boring old book from Fitzwilliam's library, or spying on the servants to see whether they are taking too much time making the beds and stoking the fires.

With Kitty and Mr Lascelles back in the attic to find some extra pillows, of course accompanied by Simon, who guards the lamps with his life, Mrs Annesley's orders he says, Georgiana finds herself alone for a few moments, when cousin Fitzwilliam comes in.

'May I admire your harem or gypsy-palace, and decide for myself which of the two fits best?'

'Of course, cousin, do come in!'

'Do you mind if I join you on that sofa, Georgiana? I've talked to your brother and I'd like to have a little chat with you before the party tonight. Are you looking forward to it? The dance, your teacher's concert?'

Somehow his mild manner shakes something loose inside her, and she finds herself blurting out, 'Not really, Fitzwilliam. I can see Mr Fielding's is very unhappy over me, and I can stop it and make him the happiest of men, but I don't know how.

I suppose Fitzwilliam told you about it?'

Somehow his Fitzwilliam is pronounced differently from her brother's, strange how she never noticed until now.

'He did, Georgiana, he had to, for you know you need my permission to marry as well as his. We share your custody until you're twenty-one.'

'And?'

'And what, Georgiana?'

'Will you give me your permission to marry a penniless pianist?'

'I will, Georgie. Your pianist may be penniless, but I think that state is temporary in his case. I truly thought he was a gentleman born, and his talent defies description. I think he is quite a catch, frankly. He seems seriously smitten with you, when you sit at the piano together you cease to be two separate people.

But even if I didn't like him, or approve of him, your brother does, and he has threatened me he'll help you elope to Scotland if I don't give my consent.'

That may rightfully be called a stunner, and cousin Fitzwilliam laughs heartily.

'It's true, he really did, though he phrased it differently.

But Georgiana, will you manage on such a small income?'

'Mr Bennet raised five daughters on it, I suppose we will stick to one or two?

And you said you thought Mr Fielding would become famous and rich?'

'I do, yes. I think that cannot be doubted. And what about Mr Manners, Darcy told me he asked permission to try to gain your affections?'

'He did? Fitzwilliam didn't tell me. Mr Manners asked permission to woo me? Seriously?'

'Oh, I'm sorry, I suppose your brother must have been waiting for the right time to tell you. Probably after the ball. Darcy told Mr Manners he'd have to ask you, he didn't want to spill any personal information that was yours only to tell or not.

I'm sorry you found out this way, but I suppose the gentleman will not approach you yet, for apparently your brother did remind Mr Manners you had told that gentleman you were not ready for marriage as yet.'

'And here I am, as ready as can be, but in love with another man. One he is helping to get ahead. This is a bit of a tricky situation, Fitzwilliam, what if we come to an agreement, Eric and myself, will Mr Manners be angry?'

'If so, Georgiana, is he the man you thought he was?'

'I suppose not. You mean to say he's not much of a loss, then?'

'Exactly. When are you going to tell him, Georgie? I think you are right, your Eric is suffering. You want to wait until after the ball? Isn't that a bit mean?'

'It is, but if I tell him now, I break my promise to Fitzwilliam, I promised to act normal until our guests leave, and I'm afraid Eric will be so confused he'll botch his concert. That would be a drama.'

'Well, I suppose you know him best. And one day won't matter much anyway. Congratulations, Georgiana, it looks as if you're going to be a very happy woman soon. Though I suppose I'd better wait until your formal announcement.

Thank you for our little talk, Georgie, I like your boudoir. When I have a house of my own, I want you and Miss Catherine Bennet to make me one, too. My father will have plenty of this stuff in his attic for you to choose from. And if not, you'll have to talk fast to aunt Catherine, I'm sure she had a hoard of old furniture, though I suppose she'll never talk to you again if you marry a cow-herd's son. Such a shame, all the invaluable advice you'll miss out on.'

He is such a sweet and good man, her cousin.

'Thank you so much for your consent and support, Fitzwilliam. You're my favourite relative, really!'

'Thank you, my dear. Try to enjoy yourself tonight! You'll dance with me at least once, won't you?'

'Sure, I'm looking forward to it.'

'I will be, too. Until later!'

And he is gone from her boudoir, just in time, for Kitty and Mr Lascelles are returning, and they are not the right people to discuss these feelings with. They have it so easy, accepted as a couple already, meeting everyone's approval, though Kitty has as little money as Eric, and a lot less talent. Oh well, she's a nice girl, and life's not fair. Better take her cousin's advice and try to enjoy the dance anyway.

And the night turns out glorious, but incredibly enervating.

Georgiana feels stunningly beautiful, she is getting used to dressing up, and her tall figure no longer bothers her, she has accepted her beauty is of the tall and fair kind, not dark and petite. And not just the mirror tells her she is beautiful, after Fanny is done dressing her, Georgiana follows her to watch her gild Elizabeth, whilst Simon works his miracles on Fitzwilliam, and as she comes in they all gape at her and Fanny smiles with pride.

Elizabeth is the first to break the silence.

'Oh my, Georgiana, you will break a few hearts tonight. London society has no idea what's coming for it, they've never seen you, have they?'

'Georgie, you are even more beautiful than you were last week. I think I'm going to burst with pride!'

'Thank you both, I'm glad you think I look good. But I think Fanny is just getting better and better at this personal maid thing, a girl cannot get more beautiful in just one week, I'm sure.'

Now Fanny dares speak up.

'Begging your pardon, miss, but I'm sure it's something within you that is different, something makes you shine from the inside. That is what makes you more beautiful, for your features are much the same as last week.'

'That is such a beautiful thought, Fanny! I feel different, too, I'm sure you are right.

Do you really think people will notice me?'

'Notice you?' Elizabeth retorts, amazed, 'I think you'll be beset by young men, and admired and loathed by the girls for staying in hiding all these years and then descending on them in full glory.

But I'm sure you will not have to bear all those admiring glances alone, I guess you will have a faithful attendant, most likely even two. That reporter will congratulate himself of course, on having his gossip come true, but that cannot be helped.

Those young men will cry their eyes out and the girls will sigh in relief when they see you stuck firmly between the noblest of gentlemen, the most eligible bachelor in London society, and a stunning young gentleman unknown to them, who will later turn out to be the most promising pianist of our time.

I can hardly wait!'

'Though I'm sure you'll have your share of attention as well, Mrs Darcy,' Simon puts in cheekily.

'Most of those girls you mention spent many a night simpering over Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy, that handsome gentleman from the north who was obviously waiting for the right woman to finally give his heart away, hoping he'd turn up that year so they could hand over theirs and win his.

They will be very eager to see and judge the woman who finally managed to catch him, and who has now convinced him to appear in public for the very first time, undoubtedly to show him off to her former rivals.'

It's very funny to see Elizabeth turn around to look at Fitzwilliam's valet in shock.

'You're joking, aren't you Simon?'

Georgiana notices Fitzwilliam doesn't object to Simon's audacity at all, somehow his valet is not bound to class distinctions, and since Elizabeth doesn't seem to mind his cheekiness as much as his actual message, her brother merely replies to his wife's shocked demand with a sedate, 'He is fooling you all right, but not entirely so. You will be scrutinised, I never attended those occasions because I couldn't stand the meat-market feeling they gave me, I was constantly appraised on income and looks. I don't know how Manners can stand it, the currying for favours, the hints and insinuations.

No, Elizabeth, Simon is right, there will be many a young lady watching you with envy for having caught a big fish.

And of course they don't know Manners invited us, they'll think you want to rub it in, for that is what they themselves would have done.

But my love, don't let it bother you, you know better. Just be mine, and dance with me, and enjoy Mr Fielding's triumph. I'm convinced your faith in him gave him the courage to defy his patron for the right to play his own compositions. Without you, he might have been married to Louise by now.'

Georgiana realises her brother is right, it was Elizabeth's honest admiration for his compositions that heartened Eric, of course her own admiration helped, too, but that was biassed and would not have made such an impression as Elizabeth's less musically educated advocacy did.

A full hour is needed to complete Fanny's work to her satisfaction.

'After hearing Simon and the master, ma'am, I'm determined no-one will find any fault in your toilette, not even the most discerning, fashionable young lady. Simon was very eager to assist Mr Fielding and the master agreed, so we have at least half an hour extra.'

And Mrs Darcy's first public appearance will start with her looking immaculate. Her dress with the jacket looks even better on her today, she seems to have gained a tiny bit of weight, filling her out just perfectly. The accessories are unique and well made, she has a lovely rosy blush, and her hair has taken half an hour to put up, but it looks absolutely natural.

Even London's fashionable crowd will be stunned, they will be the handsomest couple of the evening, Georgiana is sure.

When they gather in the hall to put on their coats and wait for the carriages, Georgiana feels her heart skip a beat as Eric comes down the stairs, carrying his leather case. He is even more handsome than Fitzwilliam, truly, in his performer's coat with the shorter sleeves and the black lace covering his beautiful hands, a veritable piece of art made out of his cravat and his rather long hair dressed in the height of fashion.

He looks every bit the famous pianist, but that includes a certain air Georgiana remembers from the first time he came to play for them in this house. It's his professional personality, and it is miles removed from her, he still looks like the man she has come to know so well and love even more, but he feels different.

Suddenly Georgiana feels very small, what if this is the real Mr Fielding? She's not good enough for such a man, even if she has a fortune and a name. He should be with a famous soprano, a lady-writer or a sculptress, a world-class talent in her own right, not an amateur pianist. Tears threaten, and the night suddenly seems very long and so oppressive, there will be so many people, staring at her, judging her looks, her prospects, as Fitzwilliam said, what's this ball besides a meat-market for the rich and noble?

But then he spies her and his face goes soft, love filling his eyes. His stance relaxes and he seems to reach out for her, though his actual pose doesn't change.

His voice is low, almost husky.

'Miss Darcy, you will be the belle of the ball. You've grown more beautiful every day since I've known you, I truly wonder how such a thing can be. Is there no limit? Will you be more beautiful every next day for the rest of your life?

I know this is rather audacious of me to ask of an angel, but will you please save your first two dances for me?'

Breathing becomes even more difficult. This is the man she loves, that other is not really him, he only surfaces when Eric's under pressure. No-one is watching them closely, better give him some encouragement.

'I will do so gladly, Mr Fielding, frankly I was hoping you'd ask.'

'You know I cannot stay at the party for the entire evening, since I have to find the right mood for my concert. Will you accompany me when I do retreat for my preparations? Manners will also be there, but I'd like to have you with me very much, you know how to support me without disturbing my concentration.'

'Yes, please, Mr Fielding. I wouldn't care to be at the ball without a gentleman at my side anyway, I'd feel like prey. Valuable prey.'

'Oh Miss Darcy, I so wish it could be me, protecting you from anyone out to do you harm. But you'll have an even stronger hand held over you, you will be safe.'

Whatever does he mean? Why must love be so confusing? Tomorrow she will tell him, visitors or not. She cannot bear this anymore, to see her beloved in such agony. They should not be like strangers, he should not have to fear for her.

No-one objects to them taking place in a carriage together, it's Mr Manners', she vaguely registers. This is such a big deal for Eric, why worry about someone judging her looks on a ball?

'Miss Darcy,' Mr Manners says proudly, 'you look ravishing. I've never attended any ball in such company, I'll be the envy of the town. Good. If I cannot be handsome myself, at least I can surround myself with beauty tonight. May I walk in beside the two of you? And may I claim any two dances from you, Miss Darcy?'

He is certainly in a strange mood tonight. This must be his persona under pressure, he's organising this charity, he is taking a risk putting Eric on the program.

'Of course I will stand up with you, Mr Manners, it's always a pleasure to dance with you. And frankly, I'd prefer not to have to accommodate too many strangers, I'd rather just dance with friends and family.'

Which turns out to be very difficult.

The ride to the hall is very short, and as they approach the venue it is very clear something special is happening there tonight. The entire front of the building is decorated with tiny lights, candles or lamps, Georgiana can't see from their distance. People are already streaming towards the entrance from carriages waiting out front. This is huge, and Georgiana feels a stab of worry.

But once they alight from the carriage, she finds herself flanked by two gentlemen, and before they enter they meet up with her brother, Elizabeth, Jane and Bingley, Kitty and Mr Lascelles, the Bennets and Mary, cousin Fitzwilliam and Mr and Mrs Gardiner. No need to feel alone or afraid in such a large company of people whom she all knows and likes.

When their coats are taken and they file into the large ball-room, she almost gasps in surprise. She is used to quite some display of riches, but this beats anything she has ever seen.

The room is huge, with a curved roof painted in scenes of people dancing.

Crystal chandeliers defy gravity, and light up the dance-floor in ever moving drops of clear light. The walls are mostly white, giving the whole space an air of freshness and brightness.

The floor is made of glossy lacquered wood, and everything is decorated with garlands in pink and silver, it looks so rich and so festive.

There is an orchestra playing, of course excellently, how could it not be if Mr Manners has hired it, and more than a few couples are already dancing away gaily.

Eric is as impressed, and Mr Manners clearly relishes their admiration of his ball, he finds the older people a nice table to watch everything, and then he inquires of Georgiana and Eric, 'Do you want to dance first, or do you want to check out the room where you will be playing?'

Eric seems a bit embarrassed by this question, and Georgiana gets suspicious immediately, for wasn't that what they had been doing the day before yesterday?

But Eric observes, 'I'd like to see how it has been decorated, and I'm certain Miss Darcy wants to see it, and the instrument. I'd like to test it as well, see if it has kept its tuning well. Then I'll be able to dance with a measure of tranquillity.'

They take leave of their company, of course Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam are already dancing, and her brother and sister do catch a lot of intent looks from ladies and gentlemen alike.

Before they can move off, a young man approaches Mr Manners, and whispers to him, eyeing Georgiana. Their friend replies, and the young man moves off.

'You're already attracting attention, Miss Darcy. That young man is an acquaintance of mine, with a very nice estate I may add, and he asked me to introduce us. I told him we had a prior engagement for half an hour, but to come back later. Prepare to have your ball-book filled up quickly. Better reserve some extra dances, Fielding, or you'll be left standing.'

Eric's look is worth millions, Georgiana seriously thinks she can live an entire week on that one feeling look. But she has information he doesn't, and she really needs to share it with him. Maybe she can find a moment tonight, but after the concert, he has to perform well tonight.

'You know I'm at your disposal, Mr Fielding. I'd rather dance with you than anyone else.'

What can she do but encourage him as much as decency allows?

By now they have arrived in a totally different room, obviously meant for concerts, with an elevated stage and row upon row of seats. The style of the room is the same, its high and curved roof, the white walls, the extensive decorations.

On the stage is a piano, and from the way Eric approaches it, Georgiana would swear he has not ever in his life seen that instrument before.

It's a kind of ritual, exploring a new piano, and it's significantly different from approaching an instrument one already knows.

As Eric strokes the wood, and checks the inside before touching the keyboard, before spotting the brand actually, one of the more entertaining games for a pianist, guessing the brand from the interior alone, she knows for certain.

Eric has not seen this instrument before, he has not spent that day getting to know these premises.

He looks at her significantly and says under his breath, 'I'll tell you all about it, later. Please don't look at me like that, I cannot resist you, I confess. Will you let me explain later? I cannot have secrets from you, Georgiana, but I've work to do now, this may decide the rest of my life. Please?'

She tries to send him a soothing look, and whispers back, 'Never mind, Eric. Later is good enough for me, I'd have trouble refusing Mr Manners as well. Just let it go and do what you have to.'

Then for Mr Manners' benefit, 'This seems a nice instrument indeed. Have you checked the tuning, is it all right?'

Eric quickly quits what he is doing and merely sits at the keyboard, then plays a simple chord. It's fine!

Incredulously, he plays chords all over the piano, and Georgiana cannot hear a single note that is out of tune.

'That saves a lot of time.

Frederick, now you've convinced me you can make anything happen. A piano that is in tune? I'm staggered.'

Then he bends over the keyboard once more, and plays a part of his study piece, apparently he already knows some of it by heart. It sounds perfect, of course.

'All right, please show me the room where I can take half an hour for my exercises, and then we can join the dancing.'

And when they are finally on the dance-floor, Eric seems as relaxed and as happy as Georgiana is.

'You want me to tell you now? Where we were two days ago? It's quite a story, and a bit shocking as well.'

'No, Eric, it can wait. You don't even need to tell me at all, you're a man grown and you do not need to justify yourself to me. Wherever you were, I'm glad you're back. Let's just be together for a while.'

'I want you to know, Georgiana, but you are right, let's first enjoy our moments together.'


	59. Chapter 59

Chapter 69

For two dances, the whole world disappears, but then it intrudes in a way Georgiana was warned against, but managed to put out of her mind.

When they separate out of decency, they'd prefer to dance with each other all evening but that would be very suspicious, Georgiana is instantly claimed by the young man who approached Mr Manners earlier. He must be of high rank to introduce himself to a Darcy, and he is.

'Good evening, Miss Darcy. I couldn't help but admire you from a distance from the moment you entered the building. Please allow me to introduce myself, it's Lord Fortescue. Mr Manners told me who you are, we've all heard so much about you, your accomplishments and your beauty, but rumour underestimated you by a great deal.'

Well, he is polite, and not bad looking. But very young, and anyway, not Eric.

'Thank you for your compliments, Lord Fortescue. I've never been in company much, I'm not fond of large groups of people.'

'I'm so glad you decided to honour us with your presence, Miss Darcy. Your new sister-in-law must have wanted to come to the ball very much, she is also very much admired. Well, and envied, since your brother is just as handsome as his reputation made him out to be.'

'Actually, Lord Fortescue, it was Mr Manners who convinced us to come. My brother's new protégé will be playing tonight, and we've all come out of hiding to hear him perform.'

'Was that the gentleman you were dancing with just now? Mr Manners told me he's incredibly gifted. I can't wait to hear.'

It's very tiring, making conversation with men one doesn't know, and doesn't particularly want to know, who are all out to validate rumours someone at some time made up to make people who live outside society a bit more interesting.

After dancing with at least three more eager young men, Georgiana finds herself rescued by Mr Manners, and the first thing on her mind is asking how Eric is. Still she manages to introduce her question with some conversation.

'Mr Manners, thank God! Four dances and I feel wrung out, how do these men know who I am, and why are they interested in me? I still feel like the ugly grey mouse, and they all tell me how beautiful I am, and how fashionable my brother and sister-in-law are for a married couple.

How is Mr Fielding doing? Is he dancing? Or did he flee?'

'Don't worry, Miss Darcy, your friend is as sought after as yourself, girls flock to his beautiful face and excellent manners, and wonder who that unknown gentleman is. I advised him to merely tell them his name and that he is from the north. They'll imagine a craggy castle to his name, and be none the wiser, unless they've recently read the society pages well.

I'll rescue you before he retreats, so you can spend his last half hour before the concert together. He needs you as much as you need him, Miss Darcy. If you're tired of the attention, please let me take you to your family, I didn't convince your brother to attend to have you overrun by eager youths.'

Georgiana considers letting him do just that, for already two other impeccably dressed men are hovering just outside her line of sight. They are making her skittish, and though it is very flattering to be the centre of attention instead of sitting on the side, Georgiana's heart is taken, and she worries about Eric.

'Please do, Mr Manners, but first I'd like to dance with you once more, you're such a nice, strong lead, I can feel myself getting calmer already.'

He looks happy, somehow she has stopped looking at him as a suitor, but suddenly she remembers her cousin's words. Though she knows he wouldn't make such a thing up, she still believes Mr Manners does not love her, except maybe as a kind of sister.

When he leads her towards the table where Mrs Bennet and the Gardiners are observing the dance-floor, Georgiana spies Eric among the men hovering all about her. This is not as it should be, and she involuntarily whispers, 'Eric.'

The yearning in her own voice shocks her, suppose someone heard, but someone already did.

'I'm so sorry, Miss Darcy, you were so self-assured in Hertfordshire, I never realised you're actually rather shy, though you did tell me. This is too much for you, you've been very outgoing and friendly so far, and now you deserve a rest.'

And Mr Manners leads her straight to Eric, delivers her to his arms, saying, 'Don't let her out of your arms, Fielding. She's been beset by hungry young men and needs a bit of rest. Of talking and watching what she says, not of dancing.

Go on, I'll keep an eye on the rivals.'

Georgiana doesn't know whether it's her dancing with that nice northern gentleman again, or Mr Manners telling the crowd off, but after dancing with Eric for two more dances, they manage to reach one of the buffets without being bothered, and after that they dance again, and she dances with her cousin and with her brother, and only one young man dares approach her to get his share of the fun.

He's quite nice, so she dances with him, but after that Mr Manners steps in and saves her once more from too many strangers.

Still, she'd like to watch her brother dance with Elizabeth, and Kitty with her Mr Lascelles, so she begs him to take her back to the table, where he guards her from further attention seekers and she can see the couples she wanted to see dance, and Eric with a gorgeous tiny brunette, the kind Georgiana always wanted to be herself.

The girl is fashionably dressed, and her dancing is light and elegant.

'That's Miss Russell. She has ten thousand, her family is barely respectable since they are in the wrong trade. And I must add she hunted Mr Fielding consistently for at least half an hour before he finally gave in and danced with her.

I'm going to warn him it's time to prepare for his concert.'

And after that dance, he does, and the three of them retreat to the little room behind the stage, where Eric dares to take Georgiana's hand.

He doesn't speak at all, he merely sits there in extreme concentration, but his distant attitude cannot hurt Georgiana because she feels his hand clutch hers. Not in fear or nervousness, she's certain of that since it feels warm and dry, he's holding her to let her know he loves her, even though he seems someone else entirely.

Mr Manners must know both their feelings, or Eric wouldn't do this is front of him, they must have talked, whatever they were doing together. But the situation is too intense to think much, this concert will be so important to Eric.

Then he releases her hand, and asks, much more gently than his demeanour shows, 'Will you lead me through your exercises, Georgiana? They have helped me a great deal, and I seem to have some trouble remembering them in the right order.'

He doesn't seem nervous, but she aches to touch him, so she takes his left hand and lets his fingers perform the right moves. It is almost like a massage this way, she feels for tension in his muscular hand and removes any she finds, gently, lovingly.

The right hand follows, and just when it is totally relaxed, Mr Manners comes towards them from having a peek into the hall, and says, 'It's time, Eric, and I think nearly everyone is here. I guess the ball-room is just about emptied out.

Go get them!'

Eric takes her hand in his once more, and does not let go of it, so she watches him as he picks up his sheet-music, and follows him to the door.

Once there, he turns, and his face comes very close to hers, she can smell his masculine scent clearly, it's making her head spin. His voice is low and thick with feeling as he speaks just to her.

'This concert is for you, Georgiana, I'll be thinking of you the whole time I'm playing. I love you.'

Then he releases her hand slowly and steps through the door, behind which there is a tiny corridor leading to the stage. She can hear when he has reached it, for the applause is audible even through the door.

For a few moments, Georgiana is totally overcome with feeling. Eric's open declaration of love still fills her ears, as the touch of his cheek to hers and the memory of his scent tug her other senses.

'Come with me, Georgiana,' Mr Manners says gently, 'I know a place where you can see and hear everything without being stared at. Remember the paper? Those people out there will, any moment now, if they haven't been swooning over the two of you all night already.'

This must be the very best spot to watch the concert, she can see the whole crowd, and Eric sitting in front of the piano, playing one of his favourite virtuous pieces, the hall is perfect for this, the piano sounds clear and strong enough to reach even the last rows.

After five minutes, the excitement over Eric's words and actions slowly makes way to her usual admiration for his virtuosity. The crowd notices it, too, this is so good, they make less noise than Georgiana thought possible for such a large number of exuberant people.

After each piece he gets a thunderous applause, and he even manages to enjoy it.

Then the moment of truth has arrived, the first notes of his own concerto sound through the hall, clear but vulnerable.

Even though Georgiana knows they will love it, she still feels a little nervous, what if they don't? Then she'll tell him straight away, to comfort him for his disappointment.

But of course the audience is thrilled, she can see it in individual faces, the people are caught up in the music, they are feeling it.

Half an hour, and everyone is still listening attentively. Then the wilder part, they stir a little, changing their seats a tiny bit, it's a long haul, even on a comfortable chair.

But their attention does not waver, it's the body that needs a bit of freedom to move, the mind is still caught.

Finally, the last movement, and the loving finish. His love was so different then, it has grown so passionate, though he is still trying to keep it under control.

After a timid start, the applause swells to thunderous again, and Eric waits until his audience has settled once more.

Then he plays his last composition, the yearning one, and Georgiana is glad she is not sitting in that audience, for she just cannot keep from showing her feelings, she remembers that time he played it for her, and thus stirred something profound deep inside her. Well, it's wide awake now, and nothing will stand in its way, but because he doesn't know that, yet, and she can hear his despair in his music, all her tears of the last few days force their way past her eyelids, and she finds herself crying openly. She's not yet seventeen, why does she feel this strongly already?

It took Fitzwilliam ten years to fall madly in love.

Still lost in her thoughts, she feels a hand on her shoulder, but not creepy, in a comforting way.

'He's nearly done, Georgiana, let's be there for him when he comes back into that room. This affects him, too, he will be wrung out and still he will need to talk to anyone who can do anything for him. It's part of the job.'

And Mr Manners hands her a handkerchief, saying, 'You're not the only one in need of one, I never heard that last piece before and it hit me like a bolt from a blue sky. But I brought a spare, I had my suspicions I'd need it.

Come.'

And now she realises he did sound a bit husky just now, Eric has made Mr Manners cry over his music. He must be a genius.

Standing side by side, rubbing your eyes with a large gentleman's handkerchief each creates a certain bond, as they stand behind the door together to wait for Eric to come back in.

He must be finished, for the applause started when they were halfway to the little room, but still he doesn't come back.

'Let me go in and check,' Mr Manners offers, voice back to normal, handkerchief back where it came from. Georgiana holds on to hers, she may need it again.

But when Mr Manners opens the door, Eric comes through, music-sheets in hand, indeed wrung out, and on impulse Georgiana opens her arms to him. Mr Manners will forgive her.

Soon, they both need that handkerchief, for Eric is crying, too. He clings to her tightly, for what seems forever, but most likely is a mere minute, then he rights himself, unashamed of the tears running down his cheeks freely, releasing her body, but taking her hands in return. Georgiana still feels his body against her own, so different from that time Mr Grenfell leaned on her and it gave her the creeps. Does he feel it, too?

Mr Manners takes the music-sheets from Eric and puts them on the table, then he speaks up, voice a bit unsteady once more.

'I'm sorry to do this to you, Eric, but to make the most of your success you need to go back out there and talk to people. I'll be with you to support you, and of course Miss Darcy may come..'

'But I'll have to let go of her hand.

I don't want to, Georgiana, I want to go through life holding your hand, but I know I cannot.

Therefore, I will dry my tears and go talk to people, to further my career, as I always thought I wanted.'

Still feeling the occasional tear slip down her cheek, Georgiana curses her own foolishness for not having told him long before now, again this is not the moment, but how could she know? She's so young and she knows nothing, she should have read more novels, to know how to propose marriage to the man who loves her so much his feelings make others cry.

Instead of talking, she gently dries his eyes with the kerchief, and when she is done, he is smiling again.

'I did it, Georgiana, I took them by storm, that whole audience! Mr Zumpe will have to eat his words, and I will never again be afraid to play my own work.

Frederick, lead me into battle, I'm ready for the masses!'

And still drying her own tears, Georgiana watches them leave through the little door, then she gathers the music sheets from the table and carefully puts them back in the right compartment of the leather case. When she is done, she picks it up and follows them reluctantly, she's not keen to talk to anyone she doesn't know. The leather case is very heavy, she cannot carry that very far, but she is not planning to. For she merely walks until she is almost on the stage, then puts down the case and peeks into the hall.

Mr Manners is introducing Eric to lots of people, a whole throng of them is waiting to meet him, gentlemen but also ladies with shining eyes holding handkerchiefs. Fortunately he seems to have everything in hand, for Eric certainly doesn't, he's worn out with his huge effort, and to make things worse the celebration for the arrival of the New Year is starting to get noisy.

Spying Fitzwilliam in the crowd, it's so convenient to have a brother that tall, Georgiana picks up the case and carefully walks towards him, trying to act innocuous.

Of course that doesn't work, people are trying to catch her attention, but she merely smiles at them and continues, until she can hand the case to her brother, who is obviously relieved to see her.

'Georgie, I was worried, I'm glad you're back. I think those people really want to ask you some questions, better give them their due or they'll all call you arrogant again. I'll be with you the whole time, don't worry.

Wasn't that great, Georgie? They loved it, that'll convince Mr Fielding he's as good as Elizabeth and you yourself said. I'm very proud of my future brother-in-law.'

Did Fitzwilliam really say that?

'You didn't tell him yet? Oh Georgie, no wonder he set everyone crying! You have to tell him, my love, it's horrible to be sick with love, you know what it did to me.

Though he did move everyone more than he would have if he were happy. But you have to tell him, he'll be going through hell right now.'

'I know, Fitzwilliam, but how? How am I going to get through that? And anyway, I can't tell him here. I did take care to encourage him, I think he need not despair, he knows I love him.'

By then, they are surrounded by friends and family, who wish all the others a Happy New Year and as the party goes on around them, the crowd wanting to meet Eric thins out and slowly he becomes visible once more.

He is now truly knackered, emotions are winning over elation, and Georgiana points out his case so he need not worry about that. A wan smile is her reward, and she so wants to run to him and hug him.

Instead, she merely walks his way and politely greets people wanting to be introduced to her. Mr Manners welcomes her eagerly, and introduces her to even more people, and she replies politely and nods and shakes hands.

Finally, everyone is gone, and Mr Manners is triumphant.

'That's it, Fielding, you own them. They'll talk to their friends and family, and brag how they have to hear your work, and before long they'll fall over themselves to attend a concert. You're going to be a legend!'

Eric manages to look happy, he truly is, but he does need to go home and get some sleep.

'Do you want to go home, Mr Fielding?' she asks.

'I do, I'm very happy, but mainly very tired. I never shook so many hands in my life. I swear, Miss Darcy, one in three of the men, and at least every second lady showed signs of crying. I'm so proud!'

On their way back, Mr Manners talks about how to take advantage of the impact of his success, which halls to book, and which people to talk to, but Eric's heart is clearly not in it.

Georgiana wonders whether Mr Manners knows and is trying to cheer him up, or whether he doesn't see the state Eric's in, and she guesses the first. Mr Manners is a feeling man, he knows something's up.

But when they get home, and she wants to ask Eric whether she can have a minute of his time, to make him the happiest of men, she cannot find him anywhere. On inquiry, the butler tells her he went upstairs straight away, and Georgiana is obliged to be satisfied with telling him the next day.

When the others arrive they all have one more drink together, and talk about the evening, which was a great success according to everyone, even Mrs Bennet, of course it would have been, with three of her daughters dancing with rich men they may officially call their own.

Then they go to bed, Georgiana taking down her hair by herself, slowly removing pin after pin, elated by the memory of the evening, but sorely disappointed by her failure to see Eric in private afterwards.


	60. Chapter 60

Chapter 70

Even when she is back in bed she cannot find sleep, so many impressions, her head is still spinning, she's glad she doesn't attend these occasions often, it would drive her crazy.

When she finally starts to feel herself drift off to sleep, a knock on her door startles her instantly back to wakefulness.

'Miss Darcy, are you still awake?'

That sounds like...like Simon!

Hopping out of bed and putting on a dressing gown, she opens the door very slightly, to find it is indeed Simon.

'Please, Miss, there is something very important I need to tell you. Will you let me in and hear me out?'

She must look her surprise, for Simon urges her, 'It's about Eric, Miss, please let me tell you.'

All right then, it's not entirely decent to let a man into her bedroom, but Simon is not likely to ravage her after all.

She leads him to her little seating area by the hearth, the fire is banked but it's warmer than elsewhere in the room.

'I'm still dressed, Miss, you better take your blanket with you in that chair, or you'll catch cold.'

That is sound advice, and anyway, Simon has known her since she was still a little girl, so he has some right to patronise her.

'Miss Darcy,' he says, when she is settled in her chair, 'what I'm going to tell you will shock you, and it will betray the confidence someone else has put in me.

But keeping my mouth shut firmly has allowed this to happen in the first place, so I can no longer justify my silence.

The thing is, Eric is planning to leave the house early tomorrow morning to head to Vienna. Vienna, Austria, Miss Darcy. He is going to leave you behind to go to the continent all by himself.

He firmly believes you two will not be allowed to marry, Mr Manners has assured him your brother will insist on your marrying a gentleman. I knew all the time that was not true, but I couldn't tell without betraying your confidence, and though it caused immense mischief, I still couldn't betray someone of my family.'

'But how do you know all that, Simon?'

He looks at her and continues, 'Please be patient, this is not easy to explain, nor is it easy to tell, for it puts someone I love in great danger.

With Eric out of the picture, in Vienna, Mr Manners is going to propose to you, not a normal marriage, but a marriage of convenience, for as you already suspect, he does not love you.

Miss Darcy, Mr Manners is like me, he doesn't love girls, he loves men. We've been having an affair from the moment we first met, and though I thought he was merely amusing himself with me, he has more or less confessed to me since then that he truly loves me, as you love Eric, Miss Darcy.

I loved him like that from the start, but you know I'm just a servant and he is a gentleman, I couldn't believe he could admire me as I admired him. But I digress.

The point is, Mr Manners wants you and him to marry, so no-one will suspect him of being involved with a man. He would invite Eric to come and live with him as his protégé, and hire me as his valet, and that way he'd have a decent marriage and children and so on and so forth, and at the same time both of you could be with the one you love best.

Except you can be with Eric without marrying someone else.

And now Eric is going to leave, waiting in Vienna for us three to join him there, Mr Manners planned that for Eric so he wouldn't have to witness your marriage to another man, but it's all for nothing for you can just tell Eric about the master's permission and he can stay.

So go to Eric now, Miss Darcy, and tell him you love him and have permission to marry him. And please don't tell anyone about Mr Manners, he stands to lose everything if anyone ever finds out he is who he is. I wouldn't have told you, but if I hadn't, he would have done it himself, when he proposed. He would not have married you without telling the truth, Miss Darcy, he is honourable.'

Georgiana cannot process all this startling information at once. Simon and Mr Manners? They were a bit more familiar than expected, but in love?

Of course Fitzwilliam hinted at Simon and something like this before they went to Netherfield, but Georgiana totally forgot.

Mr Manners was indeed working towards this marriage of convenience, that falls into place immediately.

But Eric, going off without saying goodbye? He would have left her just like that? That hurts!

'Miss Darcy, Georgiana, please go see Eric. He needs you, as you need him.'

'But I can't, Simon, it's indecent! I cannot go to a gentleman's room at night. Besides, if he looks at me in a certain way, I'll kiss him again, and who knows what will happen then? I can't do it, Simon, I'm not even seventeen years old, and a girl!'

Now Simon becomes even more serious.

'Do you want him to be gone in the morning? To only see him again if you marry Mr Manners? Oh, don't look at me like that, it's not that bad, you can probably have it sorted out, but in the meantime he'll be crushed.'

'No Simon, I don't. But I don't dare go to him all by myself, I cannot control myself, and that is not fair to him.'

'What if I come with you? And I leave as soon as it's safe? I have to confess to Frederick, he'll be gutted.'

'Yes, please, Simon, would you? I don't want Eric to be in agony, not even one minute. I don't want Mr Manners unhappy either, but I cannot think of anything I can do to help right now. Maybe later, when I've thought about it?'

'That is quite all right, Miss, Frederick can take excellent care of himself. You go make Eric happy, yes?'

'Yes.'

And so they sneak across the hall, Georgiana still in her dressing-gown with a blanket over her shoulders, Simon in his livery.

'I'm sorry you're unhappy, Simon.'

'Actually, Miss, I'm rather happy at the moment.'

'But you can never marry and have children.'

'I knew that from the time I was about ten, Miss, as did Frederick. We're very glad to have found someone of a like mind. He's fabulous, Miss, so calm and strong.'

'I know. I liked him from the first. He'll treat you well, and I hope he'll forgive you for this, but he must. For I would not have married him if he had asked me, even with Eric on the continent, I would have been angry at him for causing Eric more grief, and of course I would have expected him to set everything back to rights. He was mistaken about Fitzwilliam.'

By now, they have reached Eric's door, and behind it, all is silent. But that doesn't mean a thing, he's probably wide awake and suffering.

Georgiana knocks as silently as Simon did on her door.

She does not speak, however.

After two agonizing minutes the door opens, and Eric's face almost makes her laugh in its shock. He's in a dressing-gown as well.

'Georgiana? At this hour? Is something wrong?'

'No Eric, the exact opposite, something is much better than you think. I have wanted to tell you for a week, but I couldn't find the right words. Now Simon warns me I have to do it immediately or lose you.

Can I come in?'

Still startled, but soothed by Georgiana's calming words, he opens the door and lets them in.

'My fire is out, but I see you come prepared?'

'Yes, let's sit down.

Simon tells me you are leaving tomorrow for Vienna.'

Oh, poor Eric, it hurts him so much to leave, and still he would.

'I am, Georgiana, I have to leave, if I cannot marry you I cannot bear to be close to you. And I'm dragging you down with me, you'll be sick with love soon, and you don't deserve that. You need to find someone you can love and marry, not only love and ache for. I'm in agony, Georgiana, I cannot bear it if it starts to hurt you as badly.'

'But Eric, did you never wonder why I didn't hurt?'

'Your love is still fresh, it still has hope. But Frederick told me Mr Darcy would never allow you to marry beneath you.'

She just has to reach out and take his hand, he is such a pitiful sight, dark circles under his eyes, his hair all messed up around his dear white face. She desperately wants to kiss him, but she has to tell him the truth first.

'Mr Manners is wrong, Eric. My brother has come to the conclusion that since it's my life and I need to live it, I have to make my own decisions. I admit he had some help from Elizabeth, but the fact stands.

Even my cousin, who has joint custody over me until I'm twenty-one, has given me consent to marry where I choose. He said Fitzwilliam had actually threatened him to help me elope to Scotland with you, Eric.'

'He didn't!' Simon blurts out.

'He did. If my cousin says so, I believe him.'

It is all starting to dawn on Eric, though very, very slowly. He looks so wrung out, and he must feel so desperate. Georgiana wants to hold him really badly, exactly why she wanted Simon along.

'You can cuddle him a little, Miss Darcy, I'll see to it that everything stays proper for an engaged couple.'

'Engaged couple? You really mean we can actually get married?'

Somehow, Eric finally seems to hear what is being said, and the confusion on his beloved face does it for Georgiana, she just has to hold him, it must be all right if Simon says so.

Georgiana kneels in front of him, resting her face on his lap, still holding his hand.

After an initial shudder to have her so close, Eric very carefully strokes her hair and her face.

Looking up at him, she says, 'We can, Eric, that's what I was trying to tell you. No one will stop us from getting married. Please don't leave me, Eric, I don't think I can live without you. I've come to love you so much.'

Still a bit dazed, but starting to look hopeful now, Eric nevertheless looks at Simon for confirmation. That is rather annoying, as if he knows better than Georgiana. It's her life, isn't it?

'It's true, Eric. I knew, but I couldn't betray my mistress. Only tonight I realised things had gone too far. This has all been a big misunderstanding.'

Now Eric looks straight at Georgiana, wide awake, despair and hurt gone, passion and overwhelming love replacing it, making her feel very warm inside.

'You're in my spot, Georgiana. Please wait a second.'

And he gently lifts her off her knees and places her in the chair, almost reverently. Then he drops to his knees, still holding her hands.

His expression as he looks up at her is breathtaking. His mussed hair and the dark circles beneath his eyes just break her heart, though she knows his days of suffering are over.

'My beloved, after loving you without hope you make me almost too happy to speak. But will you truly trust your life to me, despite my humble origins?

Georgiana Darcy, will you marry me?

I have nothing to offer you but my love and my talent, and I feel almost ashamed to ask you to give up your sheltered life for what life with me will bring.'

'Yes, Eric, I want nothing more than to share my life with you and marry you. And don't be silly, I have thirty thousand pounds, we need never want for anything if we use them wisely. Don't worry, please.'

'My dearest Georgiana, you have such a way of soothing my fears! I am certain you will do incredibly well, you're so smart and you understand money much better than I do. I'll let you do the worrying, unless you need my help.

May I hold you now and kiss you?'

'Yes, my love, please, I love you so much, I have been yearning to have you do that.'

It is almost too much, to have this beautiful, sweet man take her in his arms and hold her against him, blanket dropping to the floor, his body strong and slim against her with just a thin dressing gown on both of them.

Finally she is in his arms where she so yearned to be, her gifted beloved, to lay her head on his chest, part of it bare due to him wearing such a skimpy garment, it has short hairs growing on it and it smells just delicious.

Another one of those sparks jumps to life inside her instantly, but this one is physical rather than solely in her mind, she wants to rub herself against him intimately, and stick her hand onto his dressing-gown to feel what is hidden beneath. And of course she wants those elegant, strong hands to explore the insides of her own dressing gown, a burning feeling she has never experienced before. This must be lust.

But then she feels a tiny touch on her hair, and she looks up to find his face really close to hers. Their lips meet, and this time it's not a mere brush, but a passionate kiss between two people violently in love.

It leaves both of them a bit stunned, and they sit down together for a long time, merely relishing their understanding, and looking forward to the future.

'Do you think you can control yourselves?' Simon now says softly. 'I think you can, and I really need to make a confession to Frederick, before he gives up on me and falls asleep.'

'We will behave decently, Simon,' Eric promises, 'I am absolutely exhausted and I need to sleep, we'll hold on to each other a little longer, and then we'll each go back into our own bed, dreaming of the future.

Please be good to him, he's been a really good friend to me, and I hope we can remain as close.'

'I'm sure you will, Eric, he didn't know, but he would have found out as soon as he spoke to Miss Darcy. Then I'm sure he would have moved heaven and earth to set things right. Good night you both, and congratulations.'

Can this be the sweet reality? Safe in Eric's arms, understanding reached, his pain taken away completely and replaced with happiness?

A glad voice seems to prove this, as Eric asks, 'May I call you all those sweet names out loud that welled up in me whenever I laid eyes on you? They've been right there on the tip of my tongue for so long, forcefully kept inside, waiting to burst forth.'

She looks up at him again to answer his request.

'You're not a creature of many words, are you, dearest, sweetest Georgiana? My love, my angel, beloved, girl of my dreams, the most beautiful, gifted woman that ever walked the earth, and she loves me, instead of one of all the rich, beautiful, talented men in the world, she chose me.

I've been miserable the last week, my love, but I've been the happiest man in the world, too. To find someone who feels and thinks the same way, with whom time spent is always total bliss, I did relish those moments together. And now we need not fear to be separated anymore, I can still hardly believe it, love.

I will see your brother second thing in the morning, though you say it's your decision I still feel a need to ask someone permission to marry you, our engagement wouldn't feel real without his consent.

But first I will pay Frederick a visit and make my apologies for not being able to accept his kind offer to send me to Vienna for further education. You are more important to me than my career as performer, besides, yesterday has given me a new confidence in my worth as composer, and I will take your excellent advice and explore that talent first.'

He has recovered so quickly from the difficult weeks he has behind him. To think he might have been married to Louise by now, doomed to play sonatas on Zumpe's latest innovations forever.

'Do you want to go to your own room and sleep, my love, or do you want us to sit down together for a few moments and talk a little? We can do that tomorrow, or any other day, but I'm so happy I can do another hour without sleep. Do you want me to tell you what Mr Manners and I did on Wednesday, instead of preparing for the charity ball as he told everyone? Mind you, you will be shocked.'

In that case, she must know, it must be exciting and a pretty good story to hear.

'Try me, Eric. I want to hear everything.'

'Some of it is rather embarrassing, not to Mr Manners, but some of the other guests. And, I'm ashamed to say, a little bit to me. You'll have to keep it to yourself, though, even from your brother and Mrs Darcy.'

Even better, a secret they can share.

'I can't wait to share a dark secret with you, Eric. It'll make me feel really close to you. Can I sit in your lap while you tell me, or is that too much? I don't really know, you have to warn me if I'm getting too intimate.'

'I admire you so much, Georgiana, to think of me before you act. It is very important for both of us to control ourselves, for I suppose we'll have to wait until you are eighteen before we get married. That is a very long time to wait if we let our baser feelings rule us, better let them know who's in charge straight away.'

'But I can kiss you, can't I? And hold hands, and stroke your hair, as I did that day we came back from the wedding for my lesson to find you here?'

'That you certainly can. And you can sit on my lap, even when we're dressed like this. I know for certain I can handle more intimacies, but they would be highly improper anyway.

Come, let me start the tale, and you can lay your head on my chest once again, that felt so good, I'm so happy.'

His voice sounds different when she's so close to him, deeper, like his singing voice, as she listens in total silence while he tells her about the journey and the house on the hill.

When she finds out about it being Grenfell's house, she is indeed shocked, mostly to hear he got celebrated during his punishment.

But Eric explains calmly that some men have burning needs, and if they cannot release them, they will turn desperate and even violent.

The description of Grenfell's mother convinces Georgiana that being stuck with her for two months truly is a punishment, for Eric describes how she has kept the whole house looking like the room the girls cleared to make their boudoir, at least twenty years out of date.

'And not even close to being almost fashionable again, believe me. It was plain ugly, and uncomfortable, and I think she did it just to spite her son.

But she was rather lonely, too, and drank too much wine. I hope she does move to London, to make a new life, for she was not that old.'

The piano has made an indelible impression on Eric, and Georgiana contemplates whether they can have her Clementi fetched. But that would be madness, that is just the kind of expense they cannot afford getting used to when planning to live on the interest of her fortune.

'You are thinking great deep thoughts, I'm sure. Do you care to share them with me? Do you blame me for going with Manners?'

She tells him, mostly to keep him from feeling guilty, how could he have refused? And what she says gains her another tight hug and a few kisses.

'I am so incredibly flattered, my love, that you are already planning ahead, and just for me. I can wait a few weeks to play a Clementi again, imagine my going to Vienna on my own, feeling miserable.'

Then he tells her about the paid women, and he does not hold back on any detail, though it clearly embarrasses him to describe the lewd things he saw. And what that one girl did to him, he can hardly bring himself to speak of it, but he does, up to the most revealing detail, how his body was at the verge of taking over and giving her her way, and how thinking of scales, and the actions of Mr Manners, saved him.

To think Mr Manners would arrange such debauchery, fortunately he and Mr Lascelles didn't engage in the same activities as their friends, Georgiana would never be able to respect either of them again.

But most would find what Mr Manners and Simon do as bad or worse, an abomination, and she asks, 'Eric, do you blame Simon and Mr Manners for what they do? I know it is very bad, but I can't seem to really feel that, they're both such good men. Before I fell in love with you I did consider marrying Mr Manners, I always feel very safe near him.'

'I feel exactly the same, my love. So much so I really have to get used to keeping it a secret, and so must you, for the rest of the world will be ruthless.'

'Not my brother, nor Elizabeth. They have known about Simon for a long time, and they have protected him against other servants who bullied him and threatened to expose him. Do you think Simon will tell them?'

'I don't know what will happen, Georgiana. I suppose Frederick will want to have Simon near, but they can never hold hands or kiss in public. Fortunately Frederick is rich, he'll find a way to make it work.'

As Eric finishes his tale, with Mr Manners' confession and proposal, Georgiana wishes she had told Eric much, much earlier, he must have been so incredibly unhappy and desperate.

Fortunately she can hold him and kiss him, and see him over the moon with her love.

But he is starting to look worn out again, he has been through so much these last days, he really needs a good night's sleep if he is to face Mr Manners tomorrow, and Fitzwilliam. Of course they will not make things hard on their friend, but nonetheless he will be nervous.

'You need to sleep, beloved,' she whispers in his ear, and she takes a good whiff of his masculine scent, in the hopes of taking it with her to her own lonely bed. Then she very naughtily strokes his chest inside his dressing-gown, and she can feel him shiver under her touch. He groans and grabs her tightly, mumbling, 'You tease me, little minx, have you any idea how good that feels? And what it shakes loose in me? I'm glad I'll be back in shirt and coat tomorrow, the less temptation, the better.

Good night, my love. I will dream of you, life will be sweet from now on.'

They kiss once more and then Georgiana sneaks back to her own room with her blanket.

Sleep comes much faster than she had ever imagined.


	61. Chapter 61

Of course Eric has no such misfortune, for misfortune it would be to sleep away these blessed moments.

He lies awake for at least an hour, reminiscing the moments of his life that led him to this state of delirious happiness, meeting Miss Darcy for the first time, a gangly tall girl, incredibly shy, accompanied by her tall and dignified brother. Eric remembers wondering how such a handsome, assured man could have such a self-effacing, insignificant looking sister.

Until she started to play, and he instantly recognised her incredible talent and driving ambition, suddenly eager to have the teaching of her, to show her the world he had spent his whole life in so far, the world of the piano.

After that, she was a lot less shy and insignificant.

Over the course of several weeks, as they got to know each other much better, he started to experience some strange feelings for her, she was still gangly and very young, but something about her was changing, she was slowly crawling out of her shell, and not just because of his lessons. She was growing up, and gaining control over her tall frame and long limbs, looking ever more lady-like, and her progress on the piano was nothing short of astounding.

Nothing daunted her, his sometimes demanding moods didn't frighten her off, they spurred her on to ever greater achievements, until one day, Eric found himself eyeing her with something more than just a teacher's pride. He was watching her with tenderness, a still-slight wish to touch her creamy skin, her blonde hair, her rosy cheeks.

Louise was already showing her affection for him openly, and one day Mr Zumpe let him know without a hint of subtlety that Eric's return of her attentions was highly desirous, expected really.

His resulting obstinate mood had made him daring towards Georgiana, and before he knew it, they were no longer formal to each other, and the feel of Georgiana's name on his lips and tongue gave him the courage to consistently refuse his patron his cooperation in the latter's plans for Eric's future.

He knew Georgiana was not for him, but through his budding love for her he realised he could only hope to love and to be happy with a woman who had a driving ambition of her own, and a strong mind, to cope with his own unbending character.

But life had its way to fit him into its mould, and his love for the talented girl grew until it started to give him sleepless nights, triggering him to obsess over the music in his mind. It had always been there, but until then he had been able to easily ignore it and play other pieces of his own, and Mr Zumpe's, choosing.

From then on, lying awake in the middle of the night, it turned out to be much more difficult to pay no attention to a whole orchestra playing the most haunting music, his own lead now playing along with it, then against the force of the music.

There was no help for it, he had to write it down to get it to leave him alone, and he did. At this stage, his love for Georgiana was still mainly very pleasurable, he looked forward to her lessons, managed to stay as demanding as he had ever been, and was able to keep his love from his pupil and her chaperone. Or so he thought.

He knew when Mrs Darcy had visited that she had seen through him, and he hoped she would not betray him to her husband, but he had no clue Georgiana herself was on to him as well, though he should have known, she was already so observant.

Ever growing, his love nonetheless remained the kind that can still be retracted in case of adversity, at least he thought so, his feelings did not make him desperate when he told himself it was only temporary, would never be answered.

But it still gave him a measure of courage to fight the oppression of his patron, who made his will felt ever more, fettering Eric's ambitions until he became a mere shadow of the man he had imagined himself to become.

And when life as he knew it came to a dramatic conclusion by Mr Zumpe kicking him out, his love burst into flower as much as its lovely object had by now. She was absolutely beautiful as well as talented and driven, and when they met informally, at her brother's house, Eric in absolute distress for having been dismissed and turned out of the house, she was so incredibly sweet and caring.

When she stroked him and kissed him, he was convinced she felt nothing but pity for him, but still he was blissfully happy with the affectionate touch, he loved her so much, and so hopelessly by now.

Her almost piqued admission that she had come to love him gave him sleepless nights until she returned to the house, and from that moment on, life turned into a mixture of elation and intense pain, realising they were perfect for each other, but convinced their social status would keep them apart forever, his love no longer hurting just himself, but dragging poor Georgiana down with him.

But all that hurt has been in vain! It is still almost impossible to believe, Mr Darcy to let Georgiana decide by herself whom she will get married to? A man who is merely pretending to be a gentleman, who doesn't know anything besides playing a piano?

They will need a lot of help yet to become independent, fortune or not. Neither of them knows how to run a household, or how to handle servants, or money.

But they are learning fast, and by the time Georgiana is eighteen, they will be ready to strike out on their own.

It will be a long engagement, when she stroked his chest under his dressing-gown all of a sudden he realised just how long, his baser feelings flared up, urging him to do all kinds of indecent things with her, but he will get the better of those, mastering one's primitive side must be easier than mastering a sonata. He managed to resist a very cunning lady, after all, out to break his will with bared thighs and almost bared breasts.

Only men with a weak will and no sense of self-respect resort to ladies like that one, Eric will turn to his piano for help, practising or composing must win from lust any time.

And they will be allowed to hold hands, and kiss, if it's not too public.

The feel of her, it was so incredible, so good. As good as studying together.

As good as playing together? No, nothing can beat that.

Except maybe coming from the stage in a wave of acclaim, into her arms. That was so sweet, even though his mind was in agony at the time.

And with the memory of ladies and gentlemen alike crying over his composition, Eric finds sleep, his body is exhausted, even if his mind is still running around in happy circles.

His fatigue keeps him from waking long past sunrise, and while the others are having breakfast, Eric's dreams take an indecent turn, all the strain of the last few days has to find a release, he sits at the lovely Clementi once again, this time with Georgiana in his lap, playing together, but they're both wearing nothing but dressing-gowns!

Suddenly she turns around, her long legs now straddling him, she's sitting right on top of a very insistent part of him, and kisses him very, very intimately. Her loose garment creeps up steadily, revealing ever more of her slim, bare legs.

By now she's caressing his chest once more, her hand deep inside his dressing gown, still kissing him lustily, and he can feel his control slipping, the thin fabric cannot stop him, he fondles her breasts as Frederick's friends did with those girls, buries his face in her soft, fragrant bosom as his hand slips lower, and hers do the same, shamelessly groping under his thin garment.

She doesn't behave like a virgin at all, and neither does he, they grab for each other like he witnessed plenty of men and women doing a few days ago, her hand on his manhood, his hand..

A knock on the door wakes him instantly, flushed and only a little ashamed, he really cannot fault himself for dreaming so indecently, he hasn't for years, Georgiana's touch awoke his lust again, he'll have it back on its leash soon enough.

And witnessing those goings on, having one of those women straddle him like that, talk to him like that, what man's baser nature wouldn't have stored the experience for later use in naughty dreams?

He quickly gets up and dons his dressing gown over his nightshirt, but he cannot face anyone like this, yet, not even Simon. He needs to control his excitement first, playing his practise piece would help, but he cannot play the piano with someone waiting for him behind the door.

'Eric?'

The voice proves it to be Frederick, and he doesn't seem angry or impatient.

'Frederick, I hear you, but I'm not decent at all!' he calls back.

'Let me put something on quickly and I'll be with you.'

Does he hear that very same voice say 'Too bad'?

No, not even Frederick would be that audacious, he must have imagined it.

After a sketchy wash, he is dressed in just a few minutes, his hair must still be a mess, but he'll sort that out later, it's not indecent for a man to have messy hair, and Frederick won't care for his looks anyway.

When he opens the door, Frederick is still waiting patiently, dressed to perfection of course, and he does not look put out, but rather incredibly glad.

'If you let me in quickly, I can congratulate you, Eric. You must be the happiest fellow alive.'

And before Eric can make a reply, he is gathered up in immensely strong arms and hugged affectionately.

That is weird, being hugged by a man, in fact it isn't that bad, it feels very safe, he's certainly a very strong fellow. But Eric still has some after-effects of his lustful dream, and to be touched by a strong man in such a state is decidedly unnerving.

'Do you mind, Eric? I'm sorry.'

Now he's given the wrong impression to a very deserving man, and he feels the need to explain, though his language will be bordering the scandalous. Still, Frederick must be used to seeing a lot of indecencies, after what they both witnessed on Grenfell's party, Eric supposes nothing he can say will truly shock his friend.

'I don't, Frederick. You woke me from a rather, let me say this decently, explicit dream. I've been suppressing certain feelings, and last night shook them loose. They combined with our little excursion, and that loose woman's efforts, and the result still clings to me. It made your embrace a bit more meaningful than you probably intended it.'

Manners' broad smile is back, this is not the controlled gentleman Eric knows and respects, this is a very happy man standing before him, a true friend, who has heard some really good news and wants to share his feelings.

Then his expression changes to a leer, and he observes, 'Dammit, caught at giving you a meaningful embrace.'

Eric is very aware this friend looks at men differently, and though he knows he doesn't look at Eric that way, he is still startled by Frederick's easy joking about a very sensitive subject. It will take some getting used to, Eric is still so afraid to accidentally give him away.

'Why so serious, Eric? Aren't you over the moon? When Simon brought me the news, I cried with happiness for you. Seriously!

I have felt your suffering, I'm a lot more sensitive than I pretend to be.'

He is, it's so obvious now. What a life, to be Mr Manners all day when in fact you're this loving friend. Now it's Eric's turn to redeem himself and embrace Frederick as heartily, though by no means as strongly.

'Not a bad effort at all, Eric, and totally meaningless.'

His very appealing smile belies the negative statement.

'I am very happy, Frederick, but I'm still a bit afraid Mr Darcy will deny everything, and then I've already kissed his sister, and dreamt about her in a very indecent way. Held her, too. Are you very disappointed?'

His friend does not look unhappy, but a bit more serious.

'I'm sure Miss Darcy wouldn't make such a thing up, Eric. But I guess I can imagine your being nervous about it, I certainly felt it when I asked to see Darcy in private. He must have known about his sister's affections, but felt unable to speak out. I'm starting to admire this family more and more, Eric, I envy your becoming part of it.'

'I suppose in a way you are part of it, too, Frederick. Simon's part of the family, you know, even though they pay him a salary and he treats them with a certain deference. They'll be very sad when you take him away from them.'

'You know I just cannot believe that. Simon says they know, and accept his nature, protect him. But if they find out about me, they'll not be so lenient, I am one of them, failure to live up to perfection will not be accepted from their own kind.'

'Frederick, just hear yourself speak! No to put too fine a point on it, but Mrs Darcy isn't one of you at all. If by your kind you mean rich, arrogant, overbearing gentility.

She's the most accepting person you and I know. And I'm sure Mr Darcy would accept your nature being alike to Simon's easier than his very own sister marrying a nobody pretending to be a gentleman. Yet here we are.'

'All right, all right, you win. You're much better in bringing yourself down than I am. You must have practised it for years, and I suppose you had plenty of help from your former patron. I only started to doubt myself when I fell head over heels in love with a beautiful, competent man.

But your times of doubt are over, man, your concert was a huge success, I cannot wait to read the papers tomorrow, see what the critics say. And you have won the heart and hand of the girl you love, against odds stacked higher than those foreign mountains you wrote your concerto about.

Though I guess your naughty dreams will continue for a while, I'm afraid those scenes at Grenfell's house cannot be unseen, nor Melanie's actions unfelt.

But don't let me keep you any longer, it's past ten, Mr Darcy has finished his breakfast already, I waited quite some time before I knocked on your door, I'm keeping you from making this official and wishing your beloved a good morning in this lovely new year.'

'Frederick, one more thing. What will you do, you and Simon?'

'I'm thinking of inviting him to go to Vienna after all. I cannot dismiss my valet to hire Simon, it would cause a stir, which is exactly what I want to avoid, but he has a family, he will not leave the country. Besides, Darcy may not want to let Simon go.

Hopefully we will be able to continue as we were, me in front of the house, him in the back, and at night we meet until the cock crows. That is our only opportunity to be together for now.

Unless we go to Austria, Italy, France, if we travel, we can be together, climb mountains, walk forests, sit next to a stream, lunch together, dine together, kiss in the rain. I'd like to do that, very much so.

You could come, too, both of you. Once you're married. You can have those lessons, maybe give a few concerts, think about it, it'll be fun.'

'We may do that. But first I face Mr Darcy, wish me luck.'

'Eric Fielding, I am quite certain that he truly likes you, and has been waiting for you two to come to an agreement for at least a week. That is what Simon tells me. Apparently your beloved was a bit shy.

Now, go be brave once more, and we'll meet in the drawing-room.'

And he turns on his heels and leaves the room, back to his usual confident self.

Well, that was easier than he expected, though it's hard to see a man like Frederick rather beaten down. Theirs is a sad plight, especially compared to his own improved circumstances, and Eric cannot think of anything he can do to help.

But first, he has to face his new patron, the man he depends on for his very livelihood, to ask his permission to marry his sister. It's almost too much to ask of a man, to not just give him food and shelter, and honestly, good advice and much needed protection from the world outside, but also his only, and dearly beloved sister.

Put this way, Eric's courage sinks rapidly, it was fine to imagine doing this in the dark of night, with Georgiana's eager warm shape in his arms, still a bit high on his performance and the stunning relief of her message. But now, in the light of day, fully awake and aware once again of his dependence on Mr Darcy, how will he be able to get this done?

Play the piano first?

No! He will be a man this once. Imagine what Frederick must have gone through, telling Eric his big secret, that was bravery. This is easy, he knows Georgiana has made the decision herself, this is mere formality.

Having talked some courage into himself, Eric remembers to stand before the mirror to settle his clothes, and brush his hair until his locks obey him and fall over his ears as they should.

Then he decides to start in the drawing-room, then check the library, and if Mr Darcy is not in any of them, brave the study.

Except he runs into Simon before he reaches the stairs.

'I've been waiting for you, congratulations, Eric! Mr Darcy said to send you to the small sitting-room at the front of the house, the one with the pink brocade furniture. Apparently Mrs Darcy has dubbed it the confidence-room, and he said he suspected you had something to discuss in private, and to wait there while I fetch him.'

'Was he very angry?'

Eric's courage is definitely leaving him again.

'You still don't believe it, do you? Do you think Miss Darcy and I would lie to you? He just likes to disconcert you, it's his only chance, he has no other sisters. Remember, he went through the same process half a year ago, with Mr Bennet, I suppose that gave him a certain expectation of this occasion.

Come.'

And Simon leads him to the confidence-room, indeed a snug little sitting-room with old-fashioned cosy furniture, very suitable to intimate talks, and a much more pleasant place to sit waiting than Mr Darcy's opulent study.

'You wait here, I'll fetch the master.'

Too bad there isn't a piano here, but maybe Eric needs to learn not to run to a piano to forget his nerves, maybe he should learn to face them, he's an adult now, after all, and soon he will have the responsibility for a wife.

Though that may not be exactly the right way to see things, Georgiana will not be dependent upon him, she will undoubtedly take responsibility for him as well, the whole reason they are allowed to marry is because Georgiana gets to lead her own life, they will be equals.

Breathing slowly, exercising his fingers as his beloved taught him, he finds his quiet, and before he can fret himself into nervousness again, the door opens and Mr Darcy comes in.

He looks grave, and walks in very slowly, in a dignified manner, but before he has reached the other end of the small room, his face cracks into a hearty smile, and he admits, 'I was going to let you sweat a little, just because I thought it would be fun, but I cannot seem to do it, Mr Fielding, I've come to like you so much, and you looked so very nervous just now, I felt so mean. You've suffered enough, I felt so bad for you, remembering how it hurt to be sick with love.

Come here!'

And for the second time that morning, Eric is taken in a strong bear-hug, what is it with these gentlemen? Once they become familiar they do it so totally, and they're so much stronger than they look!

'Congratulations, my brother! Elizabeth and I have been watching and waiting to see when it would happen, and this morning at breakfast Georgie looked different. So I asked, and she admitted to telling you about our little deal late last night. She almost swooned with the memory.

I started planning immediately, to give you a good fright, letting you sweat your way through a formal proposal, so I set up Simon to intercept you and take you to the study. He suggested the study might be too much, with what happened there with Mr Zumpe, so I decided on the new confidence-room.

Then when I came in I saw your face all drawn and frightened, and I remembered my own ordeal with Mr Bennet, and I just couldn't do it.'

'So this is it? You're not going to force me to tell you how I plan to take care of your sister without a fortune to my name, without a house to receive her in?'

'Well, as I said, I was planning to, but no. I promised Georgie she could make her own decision, and she did, so I have to abide by it.

But Mr Fielding, I'm glad she chose you, even though she is still very young.

Seeing the two of you together the last weeks was such a joy, you are almost like one person, you communicate without speaking, you enjoy the same things, you have the same determination to make a life for yourselves. Most importantly of course, you're such a handsome couple.'

A cheeky smile proves Mr Darcy doesn't mean that at all.

'You may not have noticed yourselves, but the love between you was almost palpable. It was rather difficult to see you elated when you were busy together, and beat when you were back to reality. I'm glad you've reached an understanding, I'm sure you will be very happy together.

Of course you're very welcome to stay with us until you both feel the need to strike out on your own. I certainly hope to see the two of you at Pemberley this summer, I promised to make you a true gentleman, remember, by teaching you how to ride and shoot?'

This is not how Eric imagined this conversation, this is just chatting!

But there are some details to discuss, like when they can get married, and where.

'Do you want us to wait until Georgiana is eighteen, Mr Darcy?'

'First of all, we're brothers now, so I'd appreciate it if you'd just call me Darcy, like all my friends and relatives. As to a date, and frankly, also a place, I suppose you have to decide that together.

Georgiana is young to be married, but both my sisters-in-law are much the same age, Lydia was just sixteen, and I don't think Kitty will wait much longer.

You'll find it very hard to stick to propriety, my brother, believe me, I've been there a mere six-month ago. These ladies seem unable to imagine that a gentleman has a bit more to cope with than their own modest passions. Holding hands and exchanging tiny kisses in a corner of the room can be very titillating, I assure you.

I will not blame you if you decide together you want to marry after the usual two months, just after Georgie's seventeenth birthday. We'll discuss the nuptials together, the three of us, and we can have someone with a real head for figures present, a lawyer, or my steward, or Manners if you like. That reminds me, my cousin the Colonel may also request to be present since we share custody of Georgiana.

You can have a splendid wedding if you want to, or you can keep it small, whatever pleases the two of you, you decide and tell me. In summer, I'd love to have it at Pemberley, but if you both prefer town that's fine by me.'

Now Darcy seems to be lost in memories all of a sudden, and he smiles a little, then says, 'When I asked Mr Bennet for his daughter's hand, I got a totally different reaction. I was so afraid of him, not of his refusal, for as Elizabeth told me later he observed literally, he didn't dare refuse me anything I condescended to ask. Instead, I was deadly afraid of his sarcasm.

The whole family hated me, even Elizabeth hated me at first, and rightly so for I was an arrogant fellow before my love for her brought me to my knees.

Mr Bennet didn't trust me with her at all, she is his favourite daughter and he just couldn't believe she had accepted me. He tried to talk her out of it, she told me he begged her not to marry without love and respect.

Of course I've managed to prove my worth to him by now, but I was afraid of him for months.'

'It's still hard to imagine anyone not wanting their daughter to marry you, Darcy. I mean, you are everything a man should be, you do so much good.'

'Ask Elizabeth one time, she'll tell you how overbearing and arrogant I used to be, how I treated her the first months of our acquaintance. She refused me once, did you know? And rightfully so, she hated me for being disdainful to her and everyone around her. She gave me an earful about how I treated those I thought beneath me, and boy did I suffer for it.

You have felt some pain over a love returned but not allowed, but I had taken ten years to fall in love, with someone who turned out to hate me passionately, to slowly realise she was right to do so. I was so sick I couldn't really talk or eat for months.

My housekeeper at Pemberley thought I was dying of consumption. Georgie was in a state for I wouldn't talk about it. Until she wouldn't take no for an answer anymore and forced me to speak up. That was a profound moment, I think that is when she started to really grow up.'

Eric just cannot believe this, they are so close, how can Mrs Darcy ever have hated her husband, he is such a nice and loving man! He must be exaggerating! Mr Darcy continues his tale, lost in memories.

'I am still so thankful Elizabeth found it in herself to forgive me and allow me a chance to make up, I have really become a much better man for my suffering.

And I'm looking forward to seeing you a happy man at last, and the two of you working on a life together.

Your performance was so outstanding last night, I assure you I did not see a single person in the audience not totally captivated. Believe me, you will soon be entering a future you never dreamed of, I just hope Georgie will be able to share you with a crowd.

Does Manners know you've come to an agreement? He asked permission to pay court to Georgiana, and I couldn't tell him her heart was already engaged, I promised to leave that up to her. I hope this will not come between the two of you, you seemed so close after your day together.'

'Manners knows and approves. There will be no rivals quarrelling under your roof, Darcy. He mentioned other concerts, and I think even an orchestra last night on our way back, but frankly I was too distraught to comprehend much of it.

I suppose we'll talk about that today.

Thank you so much for being so accepting of me, Darcy. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think you'd even consider me as a member of your family.'

'Oh, you're having those, too? Wild dreams? Better get married soon, then, I remember them well, very disconcerting. But reality is much better.

Seriously, Fielding, if you want to thank anyone for your reception, thank Elizabeth, for she has moved heaven and earth to get me to allow my sister to lead her own life. Not for your benefit specifically, though your love for Georgie was obvious to her from the start, and I know she has always fancied you for a brother.

But mind you, now you're part of the family and no longer suffering from an unrequited love, she'll treat you just the same as any of us and tease you mercilessly whenever you give her the slightest opportunity. Anything may set her off, you'll soon find out.'

The love his patron and soon to be brother-in-law exudes is so endearing. Such a strong man, and so madly in love with his young wife, and rightfully so, for Mrs Darcy is indeed a very fine woman.

'I can't wait, I love the way you're always bantering. Mr Bennet, too. I must admit I like him a great deal, I'll be sorry to see him leave.'

'Not as sorry as he will be to have to go back home. But he can come and visit us again whenever he likes.'

After another ten minutes of cosy chat, in which they discuss very few things actually related to Eric's engagement to Georgiana, they leave the room, Eric to a late breakfast, and Darcy to whatever he plans to do on New Year's day.

In the breakfast-parlour, the table has already been cleared, but Mrs Annesley brings Eric a tray with coffee and his favourite buns.

'Congratulations, Eric! I'm afraid Simon talked for once, it's already all over the house, you'll be receiving a lot of well-wishes, everyone likes you.

I'm so glad you're getting what you both deserve, you know in my time that was different, you'll be so happy together.'

Just incredible! Everyone already knows they're engaged!

After a really good night's sleep, and with his main worries removed with Mr Darcy's consent, breakfast disappears fast, Georgiana will be out there somewhere, eager to say good morning, and happy New Year. Better find her and get all those well-wishes over with.


	62. Chapter 62

And how Eric is received by his beloved! She is at the piano, practising, but as soon as she spies him she stops and smiles almost shyly. She's as happy to see him as he is to see her, eyes shining, hands reaching out for him without her even being aware of it.

'You're still here,' she breathes, as if he would even think of leaving her, knowing fate will not separate them forever.

The whole room disappears for a moment as he takes her hands in his own, he is lost for words, it is really true, he is engaged to his talented angel, she loves him as much as he loves her.

'I will never leave you, Georgiana, nothing will drag me away from you ever again.'

Well, it's clear what she thinks of that rather bold statement, her girlish shyness is gone instantly, and the strong, competent woman she is starting to become emerges..

'Oh, Eric, that's just ludicrous. Of course you will go away sometimes, you're going to play so many concerts, and you're still going to Vienna, just not today.

I know I will have to share you with your audience, and I don't mind, for our times together will make up for your absences manifold.

But it's sweet of you to say it.'

Sweet is being able to use each other's first name in this room full of relatives and friends. Of course she is right, of course they will be separated sometimes, but he's not going to Vienna without her, no way. She has no clue how far that is, she's never been further away from London than Derbyshire.

To cross the cold and dangerous North Sea without her, it's unimaginable.

He really is convinced he'll never leave her, ambitions are fine, but love is ever so much better.

Elizabeth, meanwhile, is convinced no-one besides the future bride and groom themselves can be happier with this union than she is. She always had a high opinion of Mr Fielding, but getting to know him better has only elevated him in her esteem, besides having a love for music that Georgiana can only share with him, he is upright and very gentle.

As Fitzwilliam is meeting his future brother-in-law in the little confidence-room, Elizabeth hears from Georgiana how their eventual agreement came to be.

'It was Simon, he knocked on my door in the dead of night to tell me Eric was going to leave for Vienna the next day if I didn't work up the courage to tell him immediately. I protested, but Simon was quite serious and in the end I did as he advised and knocked on Eric's door.

I've never been so embarrassed, in my dressing-gown, and he in his.

Elizabeth, he was distraught, so very upset by everything, and dead tired. But his mood improved quickly when I told him our love was not in vain, that no-one was going to stop us from getting married.

Simon told me to cuddle him, and I did. We kissed, too. Then Simon left and we chatted some more, until Eric started to fade a little with fatigue, and we each went to our own beds. He was so sweet, Elizabeth, in his dressing-gown, with his hair all mussed up, but there was a fire in him, too. Do you really think we'll have wait until I'm eighteen to get married?'

'I don't know, Georgiana, I suppose we'll have to discuss that together, but I'm so happy for you, to have come to an agreement. Did Simon tell you how he knew Mr Fielding was planning to leave?'

That is a hard question for the poor girl, she knows, but is not free to tell.

'I cannot betray Simon's confidence, Elizabeth, I'm sorry. He went out of his way to prevent Eric from leaving me, I cannot repay him by breaking his trust. Please forgive me.'

'Never mind, you have the right to a secret or two. I was just curious, but of course you need to follow your conscience here.

I used to think Simon way too familiar with all of you, but since then I have come to realise that a family like this needs people like him if you want to have any measure of privacy, there is such scope for gossiping in a well-known house, his loyalty to this family is invaluable. And of course he is such a nice man, I wish he could be a lot happier than he is now.'

They talk about Mr Fielding and being engaged a little longer, until Fitzwilliam returns, looking positively soft.

'I couldn't do it,' he says with a smile, 'he was so nervous, almost afraid, I couldn't make things hard on him, it would have been pathetic, not funny. I felt so much for him, seeing him in the same state I was in for months, I'm afraid I've gone hopelessly soft.

Your father was truly concerned, and rightfully so, Elizabeth, he had a reason to interrogate me, I didn't. I've seen nothing but good from your admirer, Georgie, I'm certain you two will be very happy. He's off for breakfast now, he'll be here very soon.'

Georgiana gets all shy and flies to her piano, somehow practising always calms her down, and Fitzwilliam is obviously touched, he takes Elizabeth's hand and just relishes their closeness.

'This all reminds me so much of the day you accepted me, my dearest Elizabeth, that was the happiest day of my life. After so much pain and despair, to be thus rewarded.'

She wants to kiss him, but they still have visitors, though most are busy playing cards, or talking, her father is in the library and the Colonel is at his officer's club again. So she merely squeezes his large hand, and smiles affectionately.

'We've grown so comfortable together that I hardly ever remember the doubts I had over you. Having come to love you, but very aware of the abominable situation fate and myself had put me in, with my sister married to Wickham and having refused you in such a hateful manner.'

They are both silent, lost in the past, until Elizabeth speaks up once more, 'But look at us now, Fitzwilliam, we're a happy family! I'm so glad Georgiana decided to marry Mr Fielding, for now we'll have them both with us for at least a year. I suppose Mr Manners would have taken her away from us immediately.

Have you spoken to him? Does he know? Have you any idea how he is doing?'

'I have not seen him, yet, but our new brother says they talked and he's fine, even happy with it. I suppose we'll never find out what that was all about.'

But he is wrong, for just after Fielding himself has entered the room, and Darcy and Elizabeth have tried to be unobtrusive watching his first meeting with Georgie after their agreement, Manners comes in and asks to speak to both Darcy and Mrs Darcy in private for half an hour.

Of course they agree, and Darcy decides to use the little sitting-room again, it's so much more homely than his study.

Manners starts by shaking their hands and saying in a truly happy voice, 'My sincerest congratulations, Darcy, Mrs Darcy, on the engagement of your sister to a singularly talented man. I cannot think of a better partner for either of them.'

They must both show their wonderment openly, for Manners continues, 'I know, I have some explaining to do, and I will, right now. It's not easy, though my intentions towards Miss Darcy have always been honourable, the marriage I would have proposed to her would not have made her as happy as this one will.

Can we sit down for a moment?

I'm very nervous about this, though Simon says there is nothing to worry about.'

Simon? Manners nervous? What is going on?

'Darcy, Mrs Darcy, I have a confession to make. I am not, and never have been in love with Miss Darcy. I would have gladly married her, had she agreed to a marriage of convenience to me.

You see, I did not expect you to allow your sister to marry a man without name or property, Darcy, you have surprised me immensely with that. But had your sister been in love with Fielding and unable to marry him, I would have proposed she marry me and I would have offered him a place in my household. So they could be together.

And so I would have a wife and heirs, to make me seem like a respectable gentleman, which in fact I have never been, and never will be.

Now comes the hard part, which I think will cause you to throw me out of your house and lives, but since there is a really large favour I want to ask you, I will have to own up.

I know you have found out some time ago that Simon does not love like other men. He tells me you have not cast him out for what most people consider an abomination and a perversion, but rather have protected him against those who would ruin his life over it, by exposing him to the world.

Darcy, Mrs Darcy, I love Simon so much it hurts, and when I went to my knees to confess him my love, he admitted to having the same feelings for me.'

Proud, self-assured Manners now bows his head before the two of them, waiting for their adverse reaction no doubt, taking an incredible risk telling them this. Despite Darcy's dislike of this friend's boundless influence over his college clique, it does not please him to see such a man lower himself before them.

But he cannot just let this pass either. Manners would have proposed marriage to dear Georgie, knowing he didn't love her, could never love her? Encouraging her to cuckold him with his protégé? While cuckolding her with a man?

'Do you have any idea what you would have put Georgie through? That is almost unforgivable, Manners! I love my sister more than anyone except Elizabeth here, and you would have married her to avoid gossip and breed children? You would have let her pine away for lack of love? She probably would have fallen in love with you, since you are indeed an admirable fellow, her love never to be returned?'

That observation truly hurts Manners, he throws the two of them a pleading look, but doesn't have anything to say for himself.

Elizabeth seems to mostly feel sorry for Manners, but as she takes Darcy's hand and at the same time addresses their guest, Darcy can hear her judgement clearly.

'You have known Mr Fielding for less than a week, Mr Manners, and you made yourself agreeable to Georgiana long before that. Can you fail to understand that it would have been very cruel to marry her without loving her? She would have lived her life without ever having been truly loved. What were you thinking of, Mr Manners?

Even if Fitzwilliam hadn't allowed her to decide for herself whom to marry, she's just sixteen, she might have met some other suitable gentleman who did love her.'

Or she might have fallen in love with a mercenary.

Of course if Darcy truly had kept Georgie from marrying Fielding, he would have been at least partly to blame for her entering such a strange marriage.

And Manners is getting smaller and smaller, when even the forgiving Mrs Darcy seems to be against him.

'I suppose I didn't think, Mrs Darcy,' Manners now replies, beat. 'I'd never been in love myself, I never considered that she had a right to love her husband. I liked Miss Darcy a lot, she was smart, pretty and very good company, I could imagine living with her and raising children with her easily.

I didn't think about love at all until I met Simon one day at Netherfield. I admired him from a distance, who wouldn't, he's so beautiful, and in your livery he looked like the emperor of Hungary.

Then one day he found me looking for someone of the staff to help me mail a letter, and offered his services. I was lost, instantly.

I've never written so many letters, to family I hadn't see in years, just to have an excuse to see him again. For of course he wouldn't want anything to do with me, he probably had a string of girls following him around, he was so beautiful. And smart. Somehow I didn't think of him as a servant, of him being below me, I admired him so much.

He made me forget I was rich and respected, with him I felt like a little plain boy in dull clothes. Until he asked me whether I needed anything else besides having my letters mailed, while he unbuttoned his livery-jacket, and when I saw the challenge in his face, and his bare chest, I couldn't control myself anymore and kissed him, half-afraid to be knocked flat, but finding a warm reception instead.

Since then I've come to understand love a lot better. Will you please believe me I would never have deceived Miss Darcy into marrying me? I really would have told her how things would be between us.'

Getting up, attitude still totally beat, Manners gets up to leave.

'I'll go pack, I'll be out of your house and lives in half an hour. Simon said you'd understand, but I knew imperfection is not accepted in a gentleman. He is very smart and worldly-wise, but of course he doesn't know how severe our class is on its members, if my friends knew I loved a man they'd never look at me again, not one of them.'

This has gone far enough, but Elizabeth beats him to it, and her tone gives him a thrill. She has always had a thing against self-pity.

'Mr Manners!'

He should be jealous at his beloved using that voice on someone else, but Manners is a sad sight, and besides, he's no competition, he doesn't admire Elizabeth, at least not in that way.

Manners turns around, he looks like the plain boy he described, and he says as little. He should really have a little more trust in his friends, maybe not his college clique, but certainly in Elizabeth and Darcy. How would Simon not be able to predict their reaction, he's been with Darcy for years.

'Sit down, Mr Manners.'

If Darcy wasn't already sitting, he'd do it instantly. Instead, he gazes at Elizabeth in adulation, he just cannot resist that tone.

Neither can Manners, he sits back down in the chair he has just left, and Elizabeth takes his hand with her one Darcy isn't holding possessively. Manners doesn't object, he seems a bit dazed with Mrs Darcy's attitude.

'Excuse my tone, Mr Manners, I find I have little patience with self-pity. What were you going to do? Just disappear and leave Simon behind, his heart broken? Or persuade him we kicked you out so he'd elope with you? Pardon the term, Simon is no captive here, he can leave any time he chooses, though we'd regret losing him.

We were angry at you, yes, both of us. Because you sported with the feelings of someone we love a lot, a sixteen year old girl who has seen very little of the world. That was unworthy of you, Mr Manners, I'm sure you generally think things through.'

She is so good, his smartest, most eloquent beloved. Darcy feels a thrill of pride at her words, this is his wife sitting here, a true Darcy already. Let no-one harm her family, and let no-one put words in her mouth before she's spoken them.

Sure enough, she continues, her tone still firm enough to make Darcy want to kneel to her. It isn't as controversial as falling in love with a man, but it's still a rather marked flaw in a gentleman.

'And Mr Manners, please do not decide for us what we think about your loving a man instead of a woman. We are both sensible adults, if we're not qualified to form our own opinions and voice them, I don't know who is.

Simon knows us better than you do. Which is logical, since he has known Fitzwilliam for years, and me for months, whereas you have known us for mere weeks, all of them spent in a large company where one can rarely be oneself. I assure you, I do not usually have a maid spend an hour on my toilette twice each day.

I suggest you take a little more time to get to know us before you decide what we think, and maybe listen to the emperor of Hungary a bit more. And talk to Miss Darcy, explain your reasoning to her. I suspect she has heard about all this, and is expecting an apology from you.'

She is the very best! Maybe it's kinder for Manners to love a man, or he'd be in love with Elizabeth from this moment on, how could he not be?

And Manners does look stunned.

'Mrs Darcy! You're not disgusted? You were both just angry over my courting Miss Darcy?'

'I have but one sister, Manners, Elizabeth may have several to spare, but I'm quite cautious with mine. Though my family will have plenty to say about my allowing her to marry Mr Fielding.

You want to take Simon away from us? We'll miss him. But it's been hard to see him rather unhappy, and besides, he's his own man, I'm merely his employer.'

'Not to him, Darcy, he loves you very much and refused to be involved with me if I didn't have this conversation with you. But I cannot just take him with me, I cannot hire him as my valet without arousing suspicion, my current man is very capable, I have no reason to let him go.

And even if I could hire Simon, he'd be in the back of the house and I'd be in the front. There is no life together for us in this country. I'm thinking of going abroad, my valet has a family, he'd quit instantly. And travelling, Simon and I could be much more intimate, dining together, sharing a room, seeing sights. That is quite acceptable when a gentleman travels by himself.'

Darcy nods, he has travelled with Simon as if they were brothers, many times in his long years as bachelor.

'We'll be sorry to lose your company at Pemberley this summer, but of course we can understand the situation. Simon always preferred a valet's duties above being a housekeeper. I'll talk to him somewhere in the coming days. And I don't need to tell you the value of discretion, better not be caught in the servants' quarters again, or Bob may call you out.'

Mr Manners has the good grace to look guilty, and Darcy adds, 'You can stay here while you decide what to do, Manners. I'm sure my new brother-in-law likes your help building a career, but I can so imagine why you'd want to go abroad.'

'If we do go abroad, we'll do some scouting for him, find the best masters, and the best halls to perform in. I'm a bit disappointed my scheme didn't work out, though I realise only now it would have been very humiliating for your sister. I've never imagined how a gentle lady would see love, and I suppose your view on love resembles hers more than mine. But I truly thought she'd never be allowed to be with the man she loved.

I will apologise to her as soon as possible. I can still hardly believe you're not turning away from me, though Simon said you wouldn't.

Thank you so much, both of you.

Mrs Darcy, I always knew you were a catch, but now I'm more certain than ever, Darcy may hug himself to have won your affections. I will never be fooled by your tender age or your beautiful face again, you have a formidable mind and an even stronger will. I salute you.'

'Oh, Mr Manners, I'm very sorry, but I really have to hug you now. I know Simon and yourself are committing a great sin, but I cannot help liking and admiring both of you, how can you be bad people?'

And to be sure, Elizabeth gets up and embraces Manners, whom she just ordered to sit, but who obediently rises from his chair to receive this rather familiar token of affection. When she releases him, he sinks back into his chair, pretending to be overwhelmed, or maybe he is, for he has found acceptance where he didn't expect to find it.

Soon afterwards, they join their guests once more, tomorrow will be their last day together, except for Kitty, who has been invited to stay in London for a few weeks, and maybe Manners, if he chooses to stay, to be with Simon from bedtime until morning.

Darcy cannot find it in himself to disapprove of having two people commit a terrible sin under his roof. He cannot condemn two people for feeling love, can he?


	63. Chapter 63

When they get back to the drawing-room, Mary is practising a new piece Fielding has advised her to start on, she's not even close to Georgie's accomplishments, but somehow it sounds better already than her playing used to. If Fielding's career as composer and performing pianist never takes off, he can always teach for a living, for he is obviously very good at it.

Georgie is no longer in the drawing-room, and neither is Fielding, they must have retreated to his apartment for their own practise. They can really spend hour upon hour together on the piano, and they'll most probably add a few hours each day to explore the harpsichord.

As Elizabeth joins her sister and Bingley for a game of cards, Darcy decides to spend some time on his mother-in-law, his hospitality has done wonders for their bond, but a bit of attention now and then is needed to perfect the whole. She appreciates him better alreadykind of likes him now, but he wants to her to love him as much as she loves Bingley or Wickham. And there is Lascelles, too, so many new brothers for Darcy!

'Mrs Bennet, what would you say to my taking a box at the theatre tonight for all of us? Georgie and I have recently visited a very entertaining piece, in a very quaint theatre right in the middle of town, a place like nothing you've ever seen.'

She looks at him with a tiny bit of doubt, that is singular, who doesn't like the theatre? Wait, maybe she's afraid it will be dreadfully boring.

'It's a very diverting comedy, Mrs Bennet, with beautiful scenery and a lot of romance, there wasn't a dull moment.'

He was right, she was probably afraid of sitting through an hour of complicated dialogue, for now she smiles very nicely, Darcy can almost see a hint of the young lady Mr Bennet was foolish enough to marry on a whim.

'That would be very agreeable, Mr Darcy, we have had a great time here, with the ball last night and all, and a visit to the theatre will be the very thing to tell my dear sister Philips, and Mrs Lucas about.

I'll be glad to be back at Longbourn though, my brother and sister's children are very restless, my nerves cannot handle such noises and capers any more, one would say it would be possible in a city like London to find a decent nursery-maid. This one likes her own looks just a tad too much.'

That is so Mrs Bennet, that poor maid has kept four children under ten remarkably quiet, except when one of the gentlemen thought it a good idea to rile them up and rough-house with them, and even then she'd have them back to calm in an instant.

And she can't help it that she's pretty as well as competent, and that Mrs Gardiner chooses very becoming uniforms for her staff.

'And I'm just aching to have Hill back, I suppose a house this size put other demands on its staff, Mr Darcy, but your housekeeper behaves like she's the mistress here instead of a dependant, sitting in the library during working hours, enjoying herself like a lady, with a piece of embroidery rich enough for Queen Charlotte's hall.

And your valet doesn't know his proper place at all, he treats the girls as if he's their big brother, you know he's given Mary all kinds of advice on her dresses and caps, and now she wants to go shopping tomorrow and take him along! And Mr Bennet lets her! He lets her!

I bet that Mrs Annesley talked my dear husband into it, and no-one does anything, Lizzy just lets that woman walk all over her and Mr Bennet sits in the library and talks and laughs with her all day long. I assure you, Mr Darcy, dear Jane has much more control over her staff.'

Poor Darcy is hard-put to keep from smiling at Mrs Bennet's monologue, she must be feeling quite insignificant here, he knows her own housekeeper practically rules the household at Mr Bennet's orders, but Mrs Hill is such a mistress of subtlety that Mrs Bennet will never know.

So he makes an effort to placate his mother-in-law, by smoothing things over a little.

'I'm glad you like the embroidery my housekeeper is making, Mrs Bennet, for it is a commission of Elizabeth and myself to grace our dining-room here. Mrs Annesley sits in the library because the light is best there in winter, she gets to spend so much time on her work because we are eager to have the entire piece finished before we move back to Pemberley.

It's a portrait of my grandmother, when you visit us at Pemberley you will get to see the original painting, your daughter took a great liking to it. I guess you'll like my housekeeper at Pemberley much better, Mrs Reynolds is all business, and she knows her place perfectly.

Having a house in town creates a need for self-reliant staff, Mrs Bennet, they are left to themselves at least half of the year and need to be able to deal with emergencies instantly and decidedly. In the country I have my steward to make important decisions, but in this house Simon and Mrs Annesley share the responsibility.

And you know Mr Bennet has few other amusements in town but haunting the library, there is nothing to hunt in town that you would want your husband involved with, believe me. Better have him safely entertained in the house with books and a very well-mannered married former lady-in-waiting, don't you think? Mrs Annesley used to be my sister's lady-companion, which I suppose accounts for her behaving like a lady, it used to be her job to give a perfect example to young girls destined to become ladies themselves.'

His efforts seem to have effect, Mrs Bennet is thinking things over, and she asks, almost in shock, 'You mean, Mr Bennet might be robbed if he went out into town?'

Darcy shrugs, and replies calmly, 'As long as he takes his daily ride with Elizabeth and me he is not in any danger, but if he were to go outside by himself, he might run into footpads, or get himself lost, you know your husband is perfectly adapted to the challenges of the country, but life in the city is dangerous in a totally different way.'

And one last effort for Mary's benefit, 'Mrs Bennet, strange though it might seem, it is really a very good idea to let my valet accompany Miss Mary if she goes shopping, he knows the best places and he has the best taste in fashion and accessories. Suppose Mary and Kitty would go by themselves, the shopkeepers here would convince them to buy the most outrageously expensive and glaringly gaudy dresses and hats, beyond your imagination, though you may have seen some of them at the ball yesterday.'

Mrs Bennet nods in abhorrence.

'Yes, some of those girls were not decently clad at all! You mean they'd just sell that to anyone?'

'They certainly would try, and Kitty and Mary are not street-wise, whereas Simon certainly is. He knows how to haggle, shopkeepers know him and like him because he does most of my gift-shopping, and he'll help Mary choose dresses that will make her look sophisticated, not cheap.

He chose my sister's dresses, and Elizabeth's accessories.'

That impresses her, and she looks a little more resigned. No-one really minds Mrs Bennet much, but she must not get jealous of Mrs Annesley, that would bring great mischief. Better she thinks it's accidental that Mr Bennet and the housekeeper sit there together so often, the one looking for diversion in books, the other working diligently on a task for her mistress, needing the light in that particular place.

'Would you feel more at ease if a gentleman accompanied your daughter on her shopping-tour, as well as a servant, Mrs Bennet?'

'It certainly would, Mr Darcy, it would make a totally different impression. Are you volunteering?'

'I am not, I have a much more suitable companion in mind, Mr Manners is always ready to render his services wherever they are needed, shall I ask him to consider going along on this excursion?'

'Mr Manners? He's unmarried, isn't he?'

'He is, but I guarantee he will behave himself excellently towards your daughter. And since they are a party, there is no indecency in him going along.'

But Mrs Bennet has always let her daughters leave the house in the company of a single man without trouble, and there is no problem this time.

'Oh, no, I don't foresee trouble, Mr Manners is the most respectable man I ever had the fortune to be acquainted with, such a true gentleman. He is very welcome to accompany my dear Mary. If you would be so kind as to ask him for his company, I would be much obliged.'

Is she hoping he'll fall for Mary over a few gowns and some sashes? Probably, but that will never happen, though obviously, Manners has plenty of connections and he doesn't need to marry well financially. He merely needs someone to look well together in company, bear him some children, not bore Simon and him to death, and keep their big, big secret from everyone and anyone, even her own family.

Mary can probably keep her silence, but she can also bore virtually anyone, Darcy gives her little chance to attach any man.

'Frankly, Mr Darcy, I'm glad to hear your housekeeper is working that beautiful embroidery for you, I admit to feeling rather jealous, she is using thread I cannot afford to buy for my own work. And while I spend most of my time at some kind of needlework I will never match her skill. That makes me feel useless.

But tomorrow afternoon we'll be on our way back, I always thought I'd like to live in town a few months each year, but now I guess I realise life's much simpler at Longbourn. It will be mighty quiet though, with all but one of my daughters gone away.'

'Mrs Bennet, I recognise the feeling of inadequacy, I usually have it when I hear my sister or Fielding play the piano, or when I see my stable-hand Peter ride a horse. Some people just surpass normal skills, and it can be quite difficult to accept they will always be better at that one thing they do best.

Somehow Elizabeth accepts that much more easily, she still enjoys her needlework sitting next to Mrs Annesley's masterpiece as it takes shape, and she plays reels on the piano to entertain herself, and me.'

That surprises Mrs Bennet highly, and she observes, 'You really like Lizzy, don't you, Mr Darcy? That is very curious, I always thought she'd end up an old maid, with her sassy remarks. But then, it takes all kinds of people... '

All right, let Bingley and Wickham stay her favourites, Darcy gives up. Mrs Bennet will always have fault to find with her least loved daughter and anything connected to her.

Elizabeth is still at cards, and Mrs Bennet is moving to join the players, when Darcy remembers he will have to reserve the box for tonight. He excuses himself to his beloved and gets a kiss in return, then makes way to his study. As he leaves, he can see Manners is no longer in the drawing-room, too bad, asking him to accompany Simon on his shopping-expedition with Miss Mary would get that done straight away. Oh well, it will keep.

Meanwhile, in Eric's apartment, Georgiana and Eric are practising together. Well, they're mostly practising, for admittedly they have exchanged a few loving words and some kisses as well.

But much fewer than one would expect from a newly engaged couple with so much privacy it's only their own conscience keeping them from engaging in shameful acts of intimacy.

Of course Darcy doesn't trust his sister merely on her, admittedly beautiful, blue eyes, allowing them this freedom, he knows she'd never do anything like that, and he probably suspects Eric wouldn't defile his beloved for all the money in the world.

And frankly, they haven't the time to work one another in a forbidden frenzy of lust, they have work to do. With all these celebrations and people around all the time, their studies have suffered, and there is no time like now to catch up on missed practice.

Strangely enough, Eric doesn't experience a strong need to touch Georgiana to feel close to her, when they are together like this the connection between them seems even stronger than when they are actually holding each other. Well, as strong. For holding the girl he has ached for for months is an exquisite pleasure.

But it is one that will become habit soon, well, maybe not soon, but it will become habit, whereas playing together will always be fresh and new.

Georgiana has mastered the sonata she was practising well enough to start perfecting it, and that is very hard work. Fortunately she does not let Eric's presence right beside her distract her, for he doesn't think he can be severe towards her anymore, he really wonders how he ever managed to drive her as much as he used to do.

Look at her sweet face, with the little blushes, and her long eye-lashes framing her perfectly shaped eyes. They are the colour of forget-me-nots, so intensely blue, and so concentrated on what she is playing.

Or are they?

'Eric, you are not paying attention! I just made a huge mistake and you didn't even notice!'

'I'm sorry, my love, I got distracted for a moment, trying to decide what colour your eyes are. They're not just blue, they're so much more than that.'

She looks at him with an expression of exasperation, then relents and gives him a sweet little kiss straight on his lips. She smells heavenly, and his lust gives him a little encouragement to kiss her back.

'Will you write even better music now you're no longer in despair? Or will your mind drown all the brilliant stuff in romantic drivel like that?'

Ouch, that smarts! And here he was, musing about his beloved, and how he couldn't scold her anymore! Apparently their roles are to be reversed, and his beloved is going to be the taskmaster from now on.

He sits up straight and salutes smartly.

'I don't know about the music, but I'm going to pay attention from now on, I promise. I'll save the drivel for later. Go ahead, continue, I'm back to earth.'

And she does continue, and Eric corrects mistakes and her posture, then meticulously refines her play in every aspect he can think of, for at least an hour, until they are both exhausted.

'Enough, Georgiana, you've done your share, now it's my turn. Will you stay next to me while I play, and correct my mistakes? And maybe admire my dark eyes a little?'

They trade places, and Eric exercises his hands and fingers, he has benefited so much from those five minutes of preparation each time he plays.

All his fatigue disappears as he loses himself in his practice, he always plays his current piece as far as he has mastered it, then he works out another page or two of the sheet music, superficially at first, refining it further and further the next times he practises.

Frankly, there is not much Georgiana can do for Eric in these practice sessions, he is still so far beyond her, but she learns from watching him, and she enjoys just being with him as he plays, she still admires him so much, it seems so easy for him, but this process proves it's still hard work.

Shamelessly relishing the feel of him as she listens to the music, trying to hear any mistakes or possibilities for different interpretations, she almost jumps when a knock sounds on the door.

What to do? This is not her room, but if she doesn't open the door and it's Fitzwilliam, he may think they are doing things they shouldn't.

While playing a piece of piano-music that maybe eight people in the entire world dare even try? No way! But now she's getting curious, so she slips off Eric's broad piano stool and walks to the door. Eric plays on as if he doesn't even notice her leaving, which is very probable.

Standing in front of it, listening to the incredible music, is Mr Manners. He speaks in a low voice, to not disturb Eric.

'Miss Darcy, I was hoping to find you here. Congratulations on your engagement! May I hug you, please? I feel so close after being with the two of you at the concert last night, and you and me watching him play together.'

He looks different than usual, younger, and a lot less in control. Vulnerable actually, and as if he really needs that hug.

'Do come in, Mr Manners, and of course you may hug me, I'm an engaged woman now, I can take certainly liberties with single men.'

She means that as a joke, but also to see his reaction. There is no pain in it, mostly true amusement, and..guilt?

The instant she has closed the door she is gathered up in a strong embrace, no wonder he could carry that harpsichord all by himself, he's immensely strong! And still she feels very safe in his arms, just as she feels with Fitzwilliam.

She hugs him back as if this is her brother, needing some support for whatever reason.

'I owe you an apology, Miss Darcy,' he says, as soon as she is back on her own two feet.

That is what the guilt was for, but somehow the formality is wrong in this situation.

'Will you call me Georgiana as long as we're in private, Mr Manners? You feel like my brother, not like a mere acquaintance.'

'Yes, please, Georgiana. Will you return the favour then? My first name's Frederick. I don't feel like Mr Manners at all when I'm with the two of you.

But I still think there is something between you and me that needs clearing up. I didn't even realise it until your brother and sister pointed it out, shame on me.'

And he truly feels it, that is clear.

'Do you need to get it off your chest right away, Frederick, or can it wait until Eric has finished his practise? I promised to listen in.'

His face softens even more almost instantly.

'Georgiana, you two will be so happy together! Of course it can wait, it's such a privilege to hear a master play, even in practise. Especially in practise. Where can I sit?'

They both drag a chair to the piano and sit next to each other. Since he is soon totally absorbed by the music, Georgiana feels free to study her friend.

Frederick. His name fits him well, as does his new disposition, it seems as if he's finally showing her his true self, and it may even be more likeable than the man she already knew.

Whatever can he have done that needs apologising? Does she need to worry? Will she be in the papers again first thing tomorrow?


	64. Chapter 64

She has to wait for another quarter of an hour, for that is how long Eric takes to play the section he has mastered so far. That doesn't mean they are bored, it's still such a privilege to listen to him practise, to think she'll be able to do this every single day of her life from this moment on. And it's only going to get better. And everything he learns, she will eventually learn herself.

Suddenly, Eric is back among the living, and he is almost shocked to find the seat next to him empty, he looks around the room quickly until his gaze finds hers and a sweet smile breaks his concentrated look.

'Georgiana, you're still here! And Frederick, have you been here long? You're pretty cosy over there, and I never noticed. Did you come just to enjoy the music?'

'No I didn't, Eric, though I certainly enjoyed it. This piece must have sounded better on the Clementi, am I right?'

'It did. I chose it for its virtuosity, to totally occupy my mind so I wouldn't have to think of my beloved here, when thinking of her still had the potential to make me intensely sad. And that Clementi was just so perfect to bring out the clear tones.'

Oh well, Frederick's news will have to wait a little longer then. Talking piano's is always pleasurable.

'The interior of this apartment isn't very kind to your Zumpe either, Eric. It sounded much clearer in your room at Mr Zumpe's house, the heavy curtains and carpets here seem to make it more melancholy than ever.'

Apparently Eric immediately sees the sense in that, and the look he sends her is breathtaking.

'You are so right, Georgiana, I never realised, but now you mention it I'm sure you are right.

But Frederick came to talk seriously, and not about piano's I'm sure. We're all ears now, so better tell us what you need to before we're distracted again. You're not leaving, are you?'

'I don't know yet, Eric,' Frederick says seriously, 'but I came to apologise to Georgiana for trying to persuade her to marry me when I knew I could never love her.

I never even thought I would have doomed her to live her life without love, and that is inexcusable. Both, doing it, and not realising it.'

'Thank you, Frederick.'

Somehow, Georgiana doesn't think the matter was as simple as that, but his apology is sincere and it needs to be accepted.

'But Frederick, I knew you didn't love me. I don't think I would have married you starry-eyed and wildly in love. It would have been a conscious decision on my part as well, choosing a man whom I was certain would treat me right.

Though I didn't think of love at all because I had never felt it. Now I know a life without love would indeed be rather bleak, but that's something I still had to learn, so I guess my brother and Elizabeth were right, it was not right of you to woo me without loving me, I had no way of knowing what love felt like, I merely felt very safe with you.'

'I could protest that of course you could have loved whomever it pleased you even after our marriage, but that doesn't make up for the fact that you were too young to know what you were setting yourself up for.'

'I don't think Miss Darcy could ever have cheated on you with any man, Frederick. She just wasn't raised that way.

Nor was I. If Georgiana had not stopped me from leaving by telling me we could actually be together, I would have left and not returned to her. I would not have asked her to cheat on her lawful husband with me.'

Frederick cannot believe it.

'Even if he approved of it, wanted you to?'

'I don't think so, no. I'd rather she stayed single and found a more suitable man she could love.'

'Then I'm afraid my well-meant plans would have ended in a drama. I'm so glad Simon decided enough was enough and intervened.'

'Don't beat yourself up, Frederick,' Georgiana observed, 'I wouldn't have accepted you knowing I could marry Eric. I would have yelled at you and forced you to get him back instantly.

But there is little use in dwelling on the past. We're going to be very happy, that is certain, but what are you going to do? Will you go to Europe with Simon?'

'I don't know, yet,' Frederick replies. 'I really want to see Eric become famous, help him reach the top. But I don't want Simon and myself to be separated all the time, I don't want him to have to obey anyone, I want him as free and as independent as I am.'

'What does Simon think, Frederick?'

Georgiana's heart swells with pride, Eric's rise through the ranks from very humble beginnings means he's always aware of everyone's feelings, not just his own, or those of the class he lives amongst.

And indeed, Frederick looks a bit ashamed.

'I'm not sure. I don't think he has really seriously thought about it, I confess I never asked him either.'

'Well, there is no time like the present, why not ask him now?'

Eric is already getting up, not to the bell but towards the door. For some reason he refuses to summon staff to his room.

'I can get him, Eric,' she offers, 'if you don't want to ring for him.'

But he shakes his head, and says, 'No, you two just chat a little, I'm going to find Simon and bring him here. I'll be back in a minute.'

And of course he gives her a decidedly unchaste kiss right in front of their visitor.

As soon as he is gone from the room, Frederick leans towards Georgiana and remarks conspiratorially, 'I'm just so happy for both of you, Georgiana, Eric is so different, I can't wait to hear what intense felicity will do to his music. Yesterday was such a triumph for him, but such torture, too.

When I suggested he go to Vienna to await your reply to my proposal he just broke down. Now we know why, he planned that separation to be forever. Dedicating his concert to you was his farewell, how he must have suffered while playing for you. I almost have to cry all over again, but I won't, since everything worked out just fine in the end.'

Georgiana never realised how bad it must have been for Eric, her poor darling, and all because she didn't know what to say.

A lump in her throat makes talking difficult, but she nonetheless asks, 'Was Simon there when you told him about Vienna?'

'He was with Eric when I came over. He was very much affected by Eric's grief, of course he knew Eric was suffering for no reason at all. But I'm sure Eric understands, Georgiana, you're still so young, and were raised so gently, how could you have proposed to him? I can imagine you didn't know where to start.

Eric, too, has such different values. None of my friends would have hesitated to be with another man's wife, if he consented to it, even encouraged them. I'm afraid my college clique has given me quite a distorted view on love and marriage.'

Georgiana really has to remind herself that Eric is happy now, but still the memory of yesterday evening rather affects her, she realises now how Eric must have felt, dancing with her, holding her hand, her love for him so obvious, knowing he was going to leave her without saying goodbye, never to see her again. Did he write a farewell-letter?

'Oh, Georgiana, I'm so sorry, now I've made you cry. Why did I tell you all that? It's all in the past anyway.'

Just before he can do anything to comfort her, the door opens and Eric and Simon enter.

As soon as he sees his beloved crying, Eric runs towards her and takes her in his arms so gently, so tenderly, that Georgiana's tears only fall faster.

Why did she let him suffer so badly when she knew everything was all right all this time?

'My love, my dearest, why are you crying?'

His voice rumbles again as she rests her head against his chest. He smells as nice, playing as intensely as he does is hard work. Too bad he wears a shirt and a cravat, yesterday was so good, feeling his bare skin beneath her cheek.

She doesn't want to speak, she wants to relish this moment, but she also knows this is very hard on Frederick, he must feel rather responsible for making her cry.

'I imagined your evening, knowing you were going to leave, breaking both our hearts but still resolute to do what was right. Then dancing with me, waiting together for the concert to start, and playing, all this time knowing you were going to leave me without so much as a word or a look.'

'Oh my dear, no wonder you were crying. I'm so sorry I would have done that to you, you didn't deserve that at all, it was my fault for falling in love with you.

But dear Georgiana, it never happened, I never left. And doesn't this make up for everything?

Though I do worry whether my music will be any good now I'm happy.'

He can make jokes about it!

She looks up and sees a twinkle in his eyes, he doesn't seem to mind the memory at all.

'I guess I'm the kind of person who doesn't look back much, Georgiana. It happened, it was bad, but it makes our being together even more valuable.

Remember Mr Zumpe? Right after that talk, with your brother present, I forgot all about him. Come, my sweet, let's have a little talk with Frederick and Simon, and you can sit on my lap and I'll hold you. I'm sure you'll feel much better in my arms.'

Just incredible, he really doesn't look back at all, he is just plain happy. And his happiness is infectious, of course it's very easy to feel exhilarated when sitting on your beloved's lap, surrounded by his strong arms, his smiling face relishing holding you just as much.

When Georgiana has some interest in her surroundings once more, she can see both Simon and Frederick looking on without the slightest embarrassment. In fact, Simon has pulled the piano-stool close to Frederick's chair, and they are holding hands rather shyly, as if they expect to be reprimanded for it.

They look so cute she cannot help smiling, which of course relaxes them, and soon the four of them are really cosy together.

'What do you want from life, Simon?' Eric asks his friend. 'Do you want to go abroad with Frederick to be together?'

Only slightly surprised by Eric's inquiry, of course they have been very familiar all the time Eric's been here, Simon doesn't need to think for long.

'I'd like to, yes, I'd love to travel together, dine together, ramble together. But not yet.

I've never had the wish to go to the continent, and I don't speak any German, nor French. Frankly, I'm not ready to leave all this behind in a rush, I need to get used to the idea, this is all the life I ever had, I trust Mr Darcy with my life, and I've known Frederick for just over two weeks.

Forgive me, my love, I'm desperately in love with you, and I know you love me, but everyone knows love makes an utter fool out of a sensible man.

What if we are in Germany, I'd hate to go to France with a war looming, and you come to your senses all of a sudden? I'll be at your mercy altogether if we go right now, and I'd rather get to know each other better first, as well as get used to the idea of travelling and living in hotels for months. By ourselves.

I hope you don't blame me for not jumping on the opportunity to be together, Frederick. It's not that I don't love you or don't trust you. I do both with all my heart, but I'm rather afraid of change.'

The look on Frederick's face as he hears Simon speak his mind for the first time is worth millions. He is not hurt, or insulted, but positively brims with pride and admiration.

'I'm sorry, Simon,' he says softly, kissing his lover's hand, 'I should have asked you much earlier what you wanted. I'm afraid you are totally right to be a bit reticent, I have not shown you the respect you deserve, despite my admiration and love for you I have still treated you as a servant.

I am ashamed of myself, but mostly I admire you even more for not reproaching me with my superior attitude. You're a better man than I.'

Simon just melts, they are both so infatuated, and a lot less careful to be decent than Eric and Georgiana, they can never be together legitimately, so there is no reason to stick to rules of conduct at all, this is a safe place and they're committing a sin even thinking of the other, so why not enjoy their time together?

'It's a very good idea to make preparations first, learn the language and study the culture, and of course get to know each other. You are so right, I am totally mad with love for you, though I'm sure it will never pass.

What would you say to my announcing I'm going to Vienna in half a year? Then Robert will quit, and I'll beg Darcy to let me take you to Pemberley, where you can join the riding lessons and pick up some German and French? And we can get to know each other a tiny bit more, spend a tiny bit more time together among people we both know and trust?

I will work on my attitude, and you can loosen up yours even more, for abroad we will not be master and servant but two foreign gentlemen on their Grand Tour. We'll have such a good time.

May I make the arrangements?'

Simon feels much better about it now, that is so obvious.

'You may, Frederick, and thank you for asking. But I'd like to talk to Mr Darcy myself, as soon as Robert has given his notice. Is that all right with you?

And will you include me in the planning? I'd like to know where we're going, and I'd like to be able to ride and shoot a gun as well. I don't want to be helpless under your protection. I know you're stronger than me, but I'm not a coward, nor a weakling.'

It is such a grand sight to see the two totally different men come to an agreement, Georgiana has a feeling this moment was as profound to them as last night was to Eric and herself.

'I'm going to teach you myself, Simon, if need be on a desolated moor, and we'll plan our trip together. If your duties prevent you from coming along on trips to the library or some shipping agent, I'll give you a detailed account of everything I did.'

Eric is obviously pleased to have been the instigator of this necessary talk between the two men, and Georgiana squeezes his hand to praise him.

Though Eric has not had his practise yet, they spend another half hour talking to their friends, no longer gentleman and servant in this private room, but merely two human beings who love and respect each other.

After that half hour, Eric puts in his practise after all, with Georgiana and Mr Manners listening. Simon has duties, and is soon back to the servants' part of the house.

But he will be spending the night with Mr Manners, whereas Eric and herself will most likely sleep alone for another year.

Still, they will spend the rest of their lives together, and their friends will have to be apart forever in public, and together in secret, at least in England. But they have found each other, and they will achieve a measure of happiness together, Georgiana is sure of that.

During lunch, Fitzwilliam announces to everyone that he has taken a box at the theatre they visited when in London for her lesson, and though she has seen the play before, she looks forward to seeing it again, this time engaged to the man she had just started to have a personal interest in back then.

The rest of the day passes quickly, tackling a few pages of Bach on the harpsichord, enjoying some time with Eric, Kitty, Mr Lascelles and Mr Manners in their special room, now called their boudoir, with cousin Fitzwilliam joining them to congratulate the new couple on their engagement.

Such a pleasant day, and the evening is every bit the success Fitzwilliam expected it to be, Mrs Bennet is excessively diverted, Mr Bennet admits he loved it, the very cultured Mr and Mrs Gardiner leave the theatre laughing.

And Elizabeth's eyes shine, this was the perfect conclusion to a Christmas party, tomorrow it will be broken up and everyone will go back home, but Jane will be within walking distance, Kitty staying with her eldest sister for a few weeks. Manners will be their guest a little longer, and Georgiana and Mr Fielding practically radiate happiness.

After the show, everyone is tired, they have been celebrating for days on end, weeks in their own case, with the wedding before that, and they decide to turn in immediately.

Gilding removed, they get into bed and snuggle together with a relish.

Darcy is in a contemplative mood, Georgie's engagement has brought so much back from his own past. But somehow the pain and anxiety have largely been removed from those memories, falling in love with Elizabeth was the best thing that ever happened to him, even if it took a while before it paid off.

He's perfectly happy now, and he is sure Elizabeth is, too.

'What a day, Fitzwilliam!' she sighs.

'Imagine, Georgiana engaged, Kitty already having set a date, Simon about to go to the continent. Do you suppose this is just the start? That this whole year will be as exhilarating?'

'I don't think so, my love. I think the rest of the year will be perfectly calm and well, just perfect. You and me together, a sedate married couple, how exciting can things still get for us?'

Then an idea strikes him, an excellent one even if he says so himself.

'What would you say to moving to Pemberley early, my love? I was thinking of going in March, when the weather improves, but we ride out every day anyway, so why not do it in Derbyshire? Why not make the move next week?'

'Why were you planning to stay in London until March? Won't that force you back to London anyway? Then you'd have to spend a whole week travelling up and down.'

'The beautiful thing is, I was planning to stay in London a little longer for Georgie, so she could have her lessons. But she can have those any time she likes, now she's engaged to her teacher. We'll just take him along with us, he'll love Pemberley.'

'I'd love that, Fitzwilliam, imagine we can ride all across the park in the snow. That would be so beautiful!

And then I won't have to play Mrs Darcy in public, I can just wear my split skirts all day, and smell of horse.'

'I love it when you smell of horse.'

'I know.'

Life is good.

Author's note

This is the end of part one of this story, it kind of got out of hand when some characters started to take over, but I enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoyed reading it. There will be new updates, I've left many loose ends that need at least some tying up, but not at the rate of two chapters a week. And there will be new developments, I seem to have an affinity with characters from the book who can use a spark of life in their lives, for let's be honest, despite her loyalty to her brother, poor Georgiana must have felt a little neglected sometimes.

But, she is now going to be dragged into society whether she wants to or not, plenty of excitement for her as wife of a performer.

So whom do we have left, sitting at home all day, entertained or maybe guarded by a lady in waiting? Who may be wealthy but is sorely lacking in everything else? And what will happen when she is indeed persuaded to leave her ivory tower?

Though I will try to adhere to the morals of the Regency, and will do my research into subjects like army life at the time, or the tasks of ladies in waiting at Court, writing about feelings and the interaction of people is my interest, not researching facts into certainty. My own style of writing will keep trying to push itself to the front, trying to mimick Jane Austen's style has not been uniformly succesful, and of course with a serial, time is also a factor. Servants will not be invisible, women will keep trying to get the right to decide their own lives, and different forms of sexuality did undoubtedly exist, though of course not openly. I have to acknowledge these issues in my writing, because they influence the interaction between people and writing about feelings is what I do.

The necessity must be obeyed, and further apology would be absurd.

For those of you who do not find a looser moral offensive, and who appreciate a little more action and some use of magic, you may enjoy reading Mirror Bound. It's my own favourite, and I will be dividing my writing time between updating Revelations and planning and writing a second sequel to Mirror Bound, set in Victorian London, but with some of the action moving to Ireland and Hy Brasil.


	65. Chapter 65

Chapter 75

Whatever had gotten into Darcy, when he thought this year would be one of calm enjoyment with his beloved?

Of course the next day proves him totally wrong. It all starts when the newspaper comes in, as master of the household Darcy gets it first, but Johnson's excited face proves that is only for show, he has clearly already read whatever is said about his new family, and apparently it is quite something, for his cheeks have a decided blush.

Since a gentleman doesn't show such lack of restraint Darcy opens it up calmly and starts to read the news on the situation with France first, as he would always do.

'Do you want all the servants to know what's in there before we do?' Elizabeth asks pertly. So she's seen it, too, Johnson is a traditional servant who likes to gossip a lot. Maybe it's time to replace him with a more tight-lipped employee, but that is such a bother, reviewing applications, talking to candidates, and Johnson does his work just fine. Is there really anything interesting going on under his roof? Enough to fire another servant, get used to another new face?

'Come on, Fitzwilliam, open the society pages, read it aloud!' Georgie urges, 'this is important, you know!'

'All right, you two, I concede. One minute please, while I find the right page.'

Well, this is a first, Fitzwilliam Darcy leafing through the paper to find the society pages before reading up on the situation in the world and the London news.

When he does find the society page, the entire spread is on the ball, of course. There are four articles, and the first is about the ball in general. Darcy looks around, Manners has not yet arrived, so he skips that one until their friend is present to hear it.

The next article, oh my, Elizabeth is not going to like that. But he reads it aloud anyway.

'Long-awaited Mrs Darcy celebrates triumph.

Beautiful genteel girls of noble descent and more than common beauty and accomplishments, have been know to hope for years that Mr Darcy of Pemberley would finally decide to attend the grandest ball of the year, to have his heart stolen by the most deserving of them. Alas, this never happened.

Having had just months to come to terms with his marriage to a young lady of a completely unknown family, his charming admirers must have been dismayed on beholding Mr Darcy entering the ball-room this year, on the arm of his extremely fashionable young bride.

Mrs Darcy, né Miss Elizabeth Bennet, wore a stunning ensemble reflecting great refinement and courage, embracing on her first public appearance a fashion that is, according to this paper's fashion experts, at least half a year ahead of the general public's sense of style.

'Mme Beaution, undisputed mistress of fashion and of course present at the occasion, commented, 'I know for a fact that none of the modistes in London have yet dared adopt this stunning new style. Mrs Darcy must have imported hers straight from Paris, and her accessories as well, especially the unique copper necklace. The classically Grecian decorations are exquisite, I cannot wait to see what Mrs Darcy will wear next time she makes a public appearance, she will undoubtedly become an icon of fashion for the current generation of young ladies, since she is still so young herself.

And isn't Mr Darcy the handsomest man ever? Such a beautiful couple.'

And so we have an unexpected fresh wind blowing through London's finest, with all eyes directed towards Mrs Darcy to see what spectacular dress she will come up with next. We can hardly wait!'

When Darcy is done, silence falls. Elizabeth, the new icon of fashion? In a dress bought ready-made from a tiny boutique in a large shopping centre? With a hat Simon chose for her, and a necklace salvaged from a dusty old drawer in a dusty old room?

'Elizabeth, they loved your little coat! You're an icon of fashion all of a sudden!'

Georgie has her voice back, but apparently not the use of her mental faculties, for her exclamation just makes things worse for Darcy's poor beloved.

'We need to move to Pemberley next week, Fitzwilliam, I don't want people to gawk at me. We bought those things in a ready-made shop! The owner of that shop deserves the praise, not me, I don't want it.

They'll forget all about me, won't they? In half a year?'

'Don't tell me the critics hated Fielding's concerto!'

Manners has come in, and seeing the consternation he must have drawn the wrong conclusion.

'I haven't heard any remark on my performance, yet, Manners. I don't know whether that is a good thing or bad.'

Right, Fielding must be in agony, awaiting the critics' verdicts on his performance.

'I'm sorry, Fielding, you must be dying to know what they wrote about your concerto. We'll talk about Elizabeth's new status as icon of fashion later.

'All right, the next article reads, 'Three's a crowd!'

That is a curious title. It goes as follows.

'The New Year's Eve ball is always a happening, but this year's edition was the scene of a real-life drama.

It was my honour to report on the first act a few weeks ago, in this very paper, when I wrote about Mr Fielding's fortunate rescue from defamation by the estimable Mr Darcy, whose brand-new other half made such an indelible impression on the fashionable set two nights ago. Mr Fielding had been spotted in the company of the beautiful Miss Darcy, Mr Darcy's highly accomplished younger sister.

I have been called brazen for suggesting that the presence of Miss Darcy might stimulate Mr Fielding to new heights in his playing, but it seems the facts have caught up with me, and proven me right.

'For the talented pianist surprised friend and enemy by appearing at the most prestigious event of the year, and on the arm of, yes ladies and gentlemen, Miss Darcy, who is even more beautiful than what my source had prepared me for.

Now it needs to be said that Mr Fielding is quite the looker himself, immaculately dressed and perfectly groomed, with the most intricately tied cravat I have ever seen on even the richest gentleman.

But all was not nectar and honey in the land of plenty, for on Miss Darcy's other arm we could all discern the estimable Mr Manners, of course the main patron of the New Year's Eve charity ball, and though not as handsome as Mr Fielding, certainly of much better birth and fortune, a very eligible match for a Darcy maiden.

How would this drama continue?

Miss Darcy danced her first two dances with Mr Fielding, and their mutual affection was obvious. But then she danced with Mr Manners, and seemed perfectly content in his arms.

There can be only one, and since Miss Darcy proved herself a sweet and outgoing young lady as well as breathtakingly beautiful, we will all await the outcome of this potentially tragic play eagerly.

Will it be the handsome, talented young pianist, or will it be the well-loved gentleman whom she chooses?

All who saw her at the ball undoubtedly picked Mr Fielding as the happy man at first. But Mr Fielding's heart-rending concerto towards the end of the evening begged to differ, no man on the verge of marrying an angel could perform in such manner as to cause at least two thirds of his audience to enter the New Year with tear-streaked eyes, be they man or lady.

No, ladies and gentlemen, this is drama in the making, and this article will undoubtedly be continued!'

'Well, that just about beats all,' Manners comments.

'At least they managed to mention your playing, instead of all of it involving our rivalry for the hand of Miss Darcy.

What are the other articles about?'

'One praises your efforts excessively, enumerating every candle, banner, garland and table-cloth. It's a kind of general impression of the ball, for those who weren't invited. I'll hand it to you in a minute, you can read it at your leisure.

Then one is about Mrs Darcy, the very same woman you see sitting right next to me, becoming the next icon of fashion of the young crowd. And one gossips about my sister having to choose between two suitors, well, you heard that.

And the fourth, let me see, it describes the entire buffet so minutely and so delectably that I am going to ring for breakfast straight away. Not a serious word about Mr Fielding's playing, that is rather disappointing. Of course one cannot expect much more from the society page, but still...'

'That's it, Fitzwilliam, we're looking in the wrong spot! This is the page dedicated to gossip, you'll likely find a serious review on another page!'

After hearing such nonsense written about herself in a popular newspaper, Elizabeth still has her p's and q's together quite adequately! There is a section on books and music in the paper.

'You find it, Manners, I've done my part, I need a few moments to recover from my return to the meat-market.'

And he hands the paper to Manners, who is as eager to find a review as Fielding must be, and takes Elizabeth in his arms. She must be very upset, she thought she was just enjoying a night's dancing with her friends and family, and now every eye will be on her as soon as she shows herself in public.

Oh well, they'll soon be in Derbyshire, where there is no need at all to go out.

But again, Darcy is sorely mistaken, there will be no Pemberley for them for quite some time, unless they want to separate two new lovers, or hire a new chaperone for his sister.

By now, Manners has leafed through the whole newspaper again, stopping at a certain page and folding the newspaper over. He looks pleased.

'That's better, half a page in the culture section. Though you'd better get used to being the subject of gossip, Fielding, for what I'm going to read to all of you right now will make you a very, very busy man.

Listen...'

And he sits back in his chair, he is going to enjoy this.

'Forsaken genius comes into his own!'

'That's the title, I think someone is chewing on a mink busby right now. Didn't one of you tell Mr Zumpe he'd have to buy a ticket to hear Fielding play, from that moment on?'

Apparently, Fielding told Manners about his former patron's preferred attire, and his visit to Darcy's house.

'Added to the entertainment of the New Year's Eve Charity Ball at the spur of the moment, Mr Eric Fielding was supposed to draw about half the revellers to the concert hall to enjoy a bit of superior culture right before the start of the new year, while the other visitors danced the old year away.

But apparently his sad story of having been dismissed from his patron's service made such an indelible impression on the public, that no-one wanted to miss his first performance under his new patronage, that of Mr Darcy of Derbyshire, not known to be a great connoisseur of music but undoubtedly educated on the subject by his accomplished and talented sister, a pupil of Mr Fielding.

For whatever reason, the ballroom was nigh on empty just before Mr Fielding started his concert with several pieces of unmatched virtuosity, as if to prove he really was much beyond playing demonstrations and private concerts for rich businessmen eager to buy themselves a piano-forte.

Virtuosity is generally a characteristic of truly able players, no better way to prove one has mastered the piano-forte than play faster and with more agility than anyone else. But contrary to what some self-appointed connoisseurs think, virtuosity does not make the master pianist. It is but one trait a master should possess.

And on New Year's Eve, Mr Eric Fielding proved beyond doubt he possesses the other traits that mark a true genius. After his stunning display of speed and certainty, he played feeling work, and his audience could not but be affected by his interpretation of the well-known works of famous composers.

Then came his finale, selecting new works for one's repertoire is as important as virtuosity and the ability to transfer feelings to one's audience, and Mr Fielding proved to have that talent as well, choosing two totally unknown pieces, clearly sprung from the mind of one and the same genius, but as yet not discovered by any of the better known players in London.

Very daring pieces, too, obviously from the purely romantic school, blatantly throwing overboard the generally accepted rules of composition in favour of even more feeling, a risky choice for an evening like this but clearly a winner, judging from the overwhelming reactions all through the hall, grown men crying shamelessly, ladies lending them their kerchiefs, but only after carefully drying their own eyes.

Romantic music may very well be the future of piano-music, since virtuosity is very admirable, but music with a soul has so much more impact on a person. And Mr Fielding apparently is to be the London pianist to have the courage to introduce this daring new style to our capital.

I for one would like to hear him perform those two haunting compositions with an orchestra, and I would like to know from which composer's mind they both sprang, probably a German genius. Mr Fielding is clearly on his way up, and we all hope to hear him play again and again, especially those romantic pieces, even if they turn out to have been composed by a Frenchman. Congratulations, Mr Fielding, on a performance that will be remembered for years to come.'

Manners puts the paper down and looks at Fielding.

'We did tell people you composed that yourself, didn't we?'

'Frankly, Manners, I don't remember. The whole night is a kind of haze. I suppose we did, but there were so many that wanted to talk to us, maybe there was no time. Maybe the reporter didn't ask, or didn't get his chance to see us. I seem to remember mostly shaking hands with ladies, and they did most of the talking.'

'Oh well, he'll find out soon enough, once I contact several places to book some more concerts for you. That is, if you want me to, it'll mean a lot more of this attention, but I'm afraid that cannot be avoided. Besides, I don't want to claim you like Mr Zumpe did.'

'I wanted to become famous, remember, Manners? Being in the papers is part of that, but I had not considered Georgiana would be subjected to their notice, too.'

And at Georgie, 'I remember very clearly that you didn't like those people watching you at all, my dear. I'm so sorry, I don't think you can step back into the shade again, now you've been noticed.'

'That is not your doing, Fielding,' Darcy feels obliged to contradict him.

'Georgie being in the paper was due to the sole fact of her appearance in public. They have all been lying in wait to catch a glimpse of her, if you hadn't been there they would have matched her to Manners, or some young man she had danced with.'

'That may be true, Fitzwilliam,' Georgie retorts saucily, 'but if Eric hadn't played there, I wouldn't have gone to the Ball. So it is his fault after all.'

To change her tone to softness, and address Fielding soothingly, 'You didn't do anything to me, Eric. I knew from the first you'd become well-known, and I knew that would mean sharing you with an audience and being talked about. People have speculated about me all my life, the only change will be appearing in public.

Had I married Mr Manners it would have been no different, he would have taken me into society, and people would have talked. It comes with the name, I'm afraid.'

Such spunk from his sister! Still, she will find it difficult to be judged all the time, on her dresses, her hats, her hair, her behaviour. As difficult as Elizabeth would find it.

Oh my.

He looks at his beloved in shock, and she looks back positively mildly.

'I know, Fitzwilliam, we cannot go back to Derbyshire with all this going on. It'll be a plunge into society for us, too. I suppose we'll miss Simon even more than I thought, you may even have to hire another valet, but no-one will be able to replace his sense of style. My days as icon of fashion are numbered.'

Manners now soothingly addresses her, 'Don't worry, Mrs Darcy, no-one will steal Simon away from you for at least half a year. He has begged to take some time to get used to the idea of travelling, and to prepare for life as a young gentleman on Grand Tour.

I suppose he will be happy to assist both of you in your involuntary journey into the spotlight, as will I, of course. I'm used to being scrutinised, and in two months, public life will dry up and blow away when most families move back to the country. You'll survive two more months in town, won't you, Mrs Darcy? With Fielding's beautiful music drawing most of the attention?'

'Mr Darcy, I have a page waiting at the door to deliver a message to you. He requested to be allowed to wait for a reply.'

Johnson speaks up from right beside Darcy, startling the latter, his butler must have entered the room very quietly. Where did he come from, and why didn't he announce himself and the visitor at the entrance of the drawing-room?

Of course Darcy doesn't show his displeasure and merely observes, 'A page? Well, send him into my office then, I'll see him there.'

Manners catches his eye in a kind of ambiguous message: this concerns me, too. And, what is your butler up to?

'You want to come with me, Manners? I suppose you were expecting messengers like this one?'

'I was, frankly, they must respect you a great deal to wait this long to send them, I expected them to wait in front of your door all New Year's Day, and I guess I expected there to be more. Which is why I half and half suspected we'd find a bad review in the papers, but since that wasn't the case, I suppose they didn't want to bother you until now. I still hope there may be more.

This boy's probably from a theatre or gentlemen's club to hire your young protégé's services for an evening. But let's hear his message before we count our blessings.'


	66. Chapter 66

Chapter 76

And indeed, before they reach the study, Johnson brings in another fresh-faced boy, carrying a sealed envelope.

While Simon arrives with tea and cookies for the youngsters, Darcy and Manners each open one of the envelopes addressed to Darcy, actually naming him patron of Mr Fielding.

'It's an invite to come play at Bloomsbury Hall, for a substantial fee, January the eleventh.'

'Mine is a request to liven up a well-known ladies' charity event next Friday, and though it is a charity, they do offer more than a little compensation for his appearance and rendition of those romantic compositions. They don't seem to have realised it's Eric's own work either.'

Manners now feels free to address the boys.

'This may take awhile to reply to, we have to organise all the requests and check with Mr Fielding before we can write a reply. Please sit down and have some tea and cookies.'

And at Darcy's valet, 'Simon, would you mind running over to any general store you like to fetch us a calendar to keep an accurate account of Mr Fielding's upcoming shows? Let me give you some shillings to pay for it.'

Simon is looking positively uncomfortable now, Manners is taking over completely, and Darcy's valet feels torn between his loyalty to his long-time employer, and the man he admires.

Manners does prove he is a lot less overbearing than he seems at this moment, by gently adding, 'I'm sorry Simon, and of course my apologies to you too, Darcy, I'm doing it again, aren't I, taking over? That is very rude to you, Darcy, this is your household and Fielding is your protégé. And Simon, please forgive me for bringing you into this position.

I'm usually the one who has to handle all business-matters, but I assure you I'll adapt, I'll get used to being among those who can take care of themselves really well, please forgive me.'

Who can resist such gentility? Certainly not Darcy, and he can see Simon is very relieved to not have to speak up himself, he'd talk back to Manners, no doubt, but not here, in his position as Darcy's servant, and not before witnesses, no matter how young they are, and how distracted by munching cookies and drinking a superior blend tea.

'Of course, Manners, I can easily picture myself in the same circumstance, I also tend to take charge. But your suggestion is sound.

Simon, you can put a calendar on my account, I suppose you're planning to go to Parker's?

Since you have things so well in hand, Manners, can I leave them up to you? I have my father-in-law and other family to take leave of. Though I have about ten minutes before I see them off, is there anything I can do to help in that short time?

You've done this before, I guess?'

'I've never planned an artist's career before, but you know I regularly plan large events, there should be no problem. Though two requests can easily be fitted into anyone's schedule. I had really expected more. Darcy, at the risk of being overbearing once again, there is something you can do. You want Fielding to become independent, don't you?'

'I think that is his own wish as well. You want me to fetch him, and be part of this process from the start? That is a superb thought, for I do think it is best for him to take control of his own life.'

'Good, I'm glad you agree. And may I suggest you bring your sister as well? I suppose it is not a traditional occupation for a gentle lady to help keep the accounts and her husband's agenda, but Miss Darcy is certainly not an ordinary lady, and I guess she wants to become an equal partner in this marriage.'

Of course Georgie will want to be part of this!

'Thank you for respecting Georgie, Manners, I will fetch them straight away.'

As Darcy leaves Manners behind with the two pages, Simon having left moments before, he almost runs into Johnson in the doorway.

'I'm so sorry, master, I was about to knock. Here are two more youngsters with messages for you.'

Indeed there are two boys behind him, both carrying envelopes, undoubtedly containing more requests for concerts.

'Never mind, Johnson, you couldn't know I was going to come through that door after all. Please send the boys into the study, Mr Manners will handle them, you and I will take leave of my family.

You go ahead and see to the loading of their luggage, I have a little errand to run and will be with you in ten minutes.'

Expecting Fielding and Georgie to be either in the boudoir, saying their goodbyes to Kitty and Mr Lascelles, or in Fielding's apartment, practising, Darcy heads up the stairs. Not hearing any music, he starts with the gaudy room his sister and sister-in-law have decorated, and indeed the group of young people is gathered there.

Apparently they think Darcy is coming to fetch them, for Kitty says quickly, 'You'll visit me at Jane and Bingley's house, won't you, Georgiana?'

'We certainly will, it will be much nicer to go there now your sister is the lady of the house, and with no Miss Bingley present. You'll love it, Kitty, it's very comfortable, though there is no boudoir there.'

They kiss, and the men shake hands, it's difficult to realise Lascelles is part of that peculiar college clique, as strange as Bingley belonging to it in fact.

'Fielding, we have a study filled with pages bearing requests for concerts. Will you please join Manners there to look at them? And he suggested you might want to be there, too, Georgie, since you will probably be planning your fiancée's concerts together one day.'

'Do we have time to say goodbye to Mr Bennet and our cousin?'

'Fitzwilliam has asked to stay a few more days, he has some amusements planned with a group of fellow-officers, and he doesn't want word of their exploits to get back to his father through the servants, so he prefers not to stay in his father's town-house.

And I suppose most of the rest will be gathered in the hall by now. Manners will be busy reading the proposals thoroughly, so I guess you can take leave properly, good of you to remember.'

Those pages have been cooling their heels for some time already, and they will be waiting for quite a bit longer yet, better have someone bring a fresh load of cookies soon, boys that age are always hungry.

They all make their way downstairs, Georgie and her talented fiancée take leave of the Bennets and the Bingleys, then move towards the study. Darcy and Elizabeth accompany their relatives outside, where Mr Bennet's carriage has already been loaded, and Bob and Bingley's driver are busy with Bingley's carriage.

As Elizabeth kisses her parents and sister goodbye, Darcy notices a rather nondescript fellow watching the proceedings, not even trying to be inconspicuous. Though he is quite a bit older than the average page, the man may be another messenger, waiting to see the master of the house to procure the services of his protégé. Maybe from a smaller venue, doubting his reception at this grand town-house.

He decides to ask the butler, it's his task to check the door, and he has been outside very often today with the various pages arriving.

'Johnson, do you know who the fellow over there is?'

The butler peers at the plain fellow standing on the pavement, a few yards away.

'You mean that scruffy personage, sir? I have never seen the likes of him before. Do you suppose he's some kind of homeless vagrant? Do you want me to chase him off?'

Darcy cannot help thinking that Johnson is a peculiar kind of butler, showing an independent arrogance he is not used to in his staff. Remembering Theo and Janine he mentally corrects himself, he is not used to staff doing that openly.

'I don't think so, Johnson. I think he may be a messenger, waiting for the family to finish a private occasion before he asks admission to deliver it. He does not look like a scoundrel, but more as if he has a purpose. And very self-assured.

I'll talk to him myself, it won't take a minute.'

And since there is no time like the present, he walks straight towards the peculiar type, the man now showing recognition and the slightest bit of awe. He does not speak until Darcy addresses him, though he bows, but not humiliatingly deeply.

'Good morning to you, mister...'

'Goodfellow, Mr Darcy, I'm a reporter of the London Times. I was hoping to get some more information on your protégé, Mr Fielding. His performance at the Charity Ball has really stirred something up, and I'd love to give the common man the feeling they know him.'

A reporter! That explains his quiet confidence.

Darcy makes a quick decision, one he thinks Manners will have in mind to promote Fielding's career.

'I appreciate your discretion, Mr Goodfellow, keeping your distance from a family occasion. Why don't you stay close until my in-laws have left, then follow me to my study for a forthright chat with Mr Fielding and Mr Manners?'

Now Darcy gets a smile from the reporter, who obviously did not expect such a reception. He must be imagining headlines already.

'Thank you so much, Mr Darcy! I'll wait for your signal.'

The man seems truly amazed to be addressed by the master of the house, which doesn't surprise Darcy, since he has the reputation of being a very private person.

With a certain feeling of relief to have the house back to themselves, Darcy and Elizabeth part with most of their guests, knowing the ones remaining will mostly be busy with their own affairs.

'Do you mind very much, my love?' Darcy asks Elizabeth when the carriages have pulled out and disappeared from view.

'My family leaving?' is her surprised reply, 'certainly not. Jane will be close, and my father can write. Frankly, beloved, I'm glad he's going home. He was getting a bit too familiar with Mrs Annesley.'

Darcy cannot suppress a smile, but still he corrects Elizabeth's mistaken surmise.

'I actually meant the fact that we'll not be able to go to Pemberley early, and that you'll be forced to appear in public in the London scene for two more months.

But I suppose you're right about your father, though they didn't do anything inappropriate, did they?'

'Fortunately not, my love, imagine, at papa's age, but my mother was starting to object. I do mind having to stay here and pretend to be fashionable before scores of people I am not acquainted with, but I am sure I can cope, you know my courage rises with every attempt to intimidate me. Frankly, I worry about you and Georgiana more than myself.

You are the ones with the influential and outspoken relatives, I'll just take Simon to that particular store and make a deal with the lady who owns it about her supplying me with fashionable attire, keeping everyone under the impression I'm the genius. Then when we go back to Derbyshire, I'll tell some reporter the truth and she can bask in the glory she deserves.

But what will you do, confronted with curious people everywhere, wanting to meet you and talk to you and judge you and your wife and sister? And your new brother-in-law, your friends, your staff?'

'I suppose I'll cope, my love, like you. Maybe it's time I got out a bit more, anyway. And I have reason to believe Georgie fully realises what she is in for. I guess Manners will be around to protect her and Fielding from the first onslaught, and people tend to listen to his instructions, even myself.

'That reminds me, do you see that fellow over there?'

Elizabeth looks straight at the reporter, who is still waiting politely, just out of hearing.

'The scruffy little man with the attitude?'

'Yes, him. He's a reporter, and I've promised to have him meet Manners and Fielding, I'm sure Manners plans to make the most of all the publicity, and this fellow professes he wants to bring culture to the common man. Can you get Georgie out of the study before we enter it? Manners may want to make the most of the 'who's it going to be' angle. There is plenty to talk about without instigating gossip about the new couple, let's think of a way to announce the news officially. I'm not going to write to Aunt Catherine, she can read it in the papers, but I'm considering letting my uncle know.'

'Sure, love, you talk to the reporter, and I'll go straight to the study and fetch Georgiana to the drawing-room. We'll be doing some needlework, should Mr Fielding want to demonstrate his skills to this representative of the common man, in our very house.

Give us ten minutes, Fitzwilliam.'

A magnificent idea, let the reporter enjoy a private little concert, he'll be flattered and stunned by Fielding's superior skills.

As they walk towards the study to meet Mr Manners and apparently a handful of pages bearing messages, Georgiana feels torn between elation at Eric's success, and dread at the prospect of having to appear in public every time he plays a concert. Of course she can plead off from his appearances, but somehow that isn't an option to Georgiana, especially not once their engagement becomes public knowledge.

'Georgiana my love?'

Eric has taken hold of her hand, and apparently wants to discuss something before they enter the study. As soon as he has her attention, he asks, 'You know I love you more than anyone else in the world, don't you?'

Of course she does, in fact it's the best feeling a girl could ever have, being loved that way, just as soon as she has gotten used to the intensity of the whole thing. Does he really need a spoken reply?

No, he doesn't, he can already read her expression to perfection.

'I've never been happier in my life, Georgiana, and your love is so valuable to me. But still I want to ask you not to show any of it when in the company of these strangers, and to forgive me if I act totally correct towards you, for I am very afraid to cause another stir in the papers. There really is no way to know who will talk to reporters, any one of these messengers can be a source. I'd hate to be all over the society pages before our engagement is made public, especially with yourself subject of all kinds of indecent suggestions.'

He really dreads the very idea! Poor Eric, he seems to dislike being the object of gossip, and meanwhile is aiming for a career as a musician. But what he asks is very reasonable, and indeed very wise until their engagement is common knowledge. This time she does voice her assent.

'I will be the innocent Miss Darcy I used to be, Eric, don't worry. I think it is a very sensible idea to not cause any more gossip, you want to be known for your talents, not as main character of a real-time romance story, for anyone in the employ of a paper to write a thrilling chapter of.

But I do want to attend all your concerts, which would be a bit singular for an unconnected housemate, so I do want us to make our engagement public as soon as Fitzwilliam has written to all the family-members who should be notified privately, there must be some who should not read about it in the papers. Let's ask him at lunch.'

'Thank you so much for your understanding, beloved. Come, let's see what offers we've got to make a future out of.'

He lets go of her hand, then opens the door of the study and steps inside, as handsome and as carefully dressed as ever, but with a certain resolve, still her talented and sweet beloved, but also a man who knows his worth.

Of course there are just the pages in the study, no people of authority, but Georgiana is convinced Eric is not at all aware of the slight change in his demeanour, it merely reflects his triumph at the Charity Ball, and the excellent reviews. Or maybe, a small voice inside Georgiana observes, their agreement has given him new zest for life, and a lot more confidence for the future.

'Mr Fielding! You've been awaited eagerly by these fine fellows here!

Their employers all want a few hours of your time, to grace their concert halls and private parties with your superior music and performance skills!'

That is meant for the pages, Mr Manners reserves a different address for the two of them.

'These are fine offers, Fielding, I have asked Simon to fetch you a calendar so we can make careful notes of where and when you are supposed to play.

Miss Darcy, I expected you'd want to be present to see how these things usually work, you may want to pursue your own career as a performer at some time.'

He says this with a big, meaningful wink, as if to warn her not to retort, but not to be offended over his overbearing attitude either.

At that moment, someone knocks, and Mr Manners calls out to whoever is standing behind the door, 'Do come in!'

It's Simon, and he is carrying a hefty book-like object, the calendar undoubtedly.

'I've chosen a rather large one, thinking you might want to add some notes on the venue and other details. This one has plenty of space.'

'Good thinking, Simon,' Mr Manners praises his lover, now seemingly nothing more to him than a competent servant.

As Simon puts the book down on the desk, then turns around and heads back to his duties elsewhere in the house, Mr Manners hands Eric several envelopes, explaining, 'I've taken the liberty of checking the offers already, and you may be very pleased. They're all prime locations, there is only one private party among them, but I know that charity is attended by several ladies who are close to the Queen, and of course playing at Court would be the ultimate honour and triumph.'

Georgiana is very curious, and tempted to lean over Eric's shoulder and read along with him, but she controls herself not to give their new bond away, not even to two pairs of pages.

Each time Eric has read one of the four requests for concerts, he hands it to Georgiana, who discovers they are indeed prime venues. Two concert halls, primarily attended by gentility, and one ladies' charity, Georgiana knows of it, and she also knows what Mr Manners says is true, several ladies-in-waiting of Queen Charlotte attend this charity every year. And the fee is excellent.

But the last request is the most surprising, and very gratifying, for they did not expect it for several months yet. It's a concert in a very large hall in a rich middle-class neighbourhood, Georgiana has no idea where they got the idea to hire a pianist who has only performed once so far, and for an upper class audience, but of course his patron used to entertain middle-class business men all the time, Eric may be rather well-known in those circles.

Seeing her handle the last letter, Eric observes, 'The owner of that venue has wanted to engage my services for a long time, Miss Darcy, it's a really large hall and very well known among the business-people in London. But Mr Zumpe didn't want me to play it, for they have their own instrument, and refused to replace it with a Zumpe, even for the night.

It's gratifying to find out the owner didn't give up on my playing there, he must really want me to, for he writes he hasn't heard my new repertoire, yet, he decided to invite me on what he remembered of my playing and what the paper said.

Can you believe he expects me to sell out that huge hall?'

Of course Georgiana can, Eric is the best, but that sounds just a little too infatuated for the situation, so she merely observes, 'I'm sure they will appreciate your work, Mr Fielding.'

Her lukewarm reaction causes him to look at her intently, and she gives him an expressive look to show him she's making fun of him, which he understands immediately.

They spend some more time discussing the proposals, after which Mr Manners writes the replies, explaining to Georgiana and Eric why he uses a certain phrase and a particular tone, why he poses several questions about the type of piano the venue uses, and how the payments will be settled. Then he hands the pages the envelopes with the replies, and all four of them leave, but not before thanking Mr Manners for the tea and cookies, hoping he will relay their thanks to Mr Darcy as well.

Mr Manners promises, then addresses Eric once more.

'If you're interested, I'll explain several possibilities how to invest your earnings, Fielding, I suppose Simon and Mrs Annesley told you a lot about finances, but I'm pretty sure Darcy handles his investments himself, or has them in trust of a banker or a lawyer. I can teach you how to take care of your earnings yourself. Your fortune too, Miss Darcy.'

Wondering how Mr Manners knows they are taking lessons in housekeeping from Simon, something in Georgiana's mind suddenly fall into place, and she exclaims, 'Simon told you what Mr Wickham did to Fitzwilliam and to me!'

Bowing his head in acquiescence, Mr Manners confesses, 'He did, but I assure you he did not gossip about you.'

'I'm mostly surprised he knew, Mr Manners. But I guess he couldn't help noticing my brother's anger at that time, Fitzwilliam must have talked with him, they were very close for years. I suppose until Fitzwilliam fell in love with Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Still, he had known you for how long? A mere day?'

'I suppose so, but still it's not his fault, Miss Darcy. I asked Bingley why he didn't allow his soon to be brother-in-law Mr Wickham to stay in his house, and he told me Darcy despised him, but he didn't know why. So I asked Simon. I'm afraid few people can resist me when I really want to know something, Miss Darcy, and Simon and I had an instant connection somehow. Please don't reproach him, he'd be devastated.

If you have to blame someone, blame me.'

'Never mind, Frederick, we're past all that, aren't we?'

Using his first name does settle him, but before he can comment, Elizabeth enters the study without knocking, and hurriedly says, 'Georgiana, you need to come with me, and gentlemen, you need to decide what you want in the papers, for Fitzwilliam is on his way with a reporter of the London Times.

I told your brother we'll be sitting in the drawing-room with a piece of needlework, in case Mr Fielding wants to play a demonstration for the fellow in question. I warn you, he is rather scruffy-looking and very full of himself.'

With that, she leaves the study, and Georgiana follows her, but not before she has kissed Eric goodbye. Mr Manners won't mind, and there are no witnesses left.

'A good thing you two stuck to formality in front of those pages,' he does comment, 'I suppose it'll get out anyway, but it's always better to choose the time and method yourself, to not have some reporter make up a story. Especially not since I'm sure I'll figure in yours.

Though I'm equally certain plenty of young ladies looking for a profitable marriage will be willing to comfort me for being spurned by Miss Darcy.

All right, Eric, let's think what we want that reporter to know.'

They make a quick list, and when Darcy enters with the reporter less than five minutes later, Frederick already has an outline of what to tell him, and what not. Eric is impressed, and he realises very clearly that Manners is the best teacher he could find to show him how to handle the press.

Darcy may be clever and very much respected, he has always avoided public life and has a reputation for reticence, whereas Eric has to look for publicity to make a living. Manners has obviously embraced being well-known, and his easy way of relating to people is a delight to watch. Though Eric cannot imagine ever learning to act like that himself, he knows Manners' excellent example will help him to make a good impression wherever he goes.

And hopefully, Manners will be willing to lead the way for quite some time, yet.


	67. Chapter 67

'Mr Goodfellow! So good of you to turn up!'

Manners even knows the scrawny fellow by name!

Which actually stuns the reporter even more than Eric, he almost starts, recovers incredibly quickly, then replies politely, 'Mr Manners, you know my name! I'm very flattered.

And Mr Fielding, it's such an honour to meet you in person. To be noticed by three such illustrious men, I never expected my trip to Mr Darcy's house to have such an outcome.'

Manners has offered to do the talking this time, and Eric hopes to discover the trick of conversing with reporters by observing him.

Though Eric unknowingly has one distinct advantage over either gentleman, his inability to judge people according to class makes him treat everyone respectfully; while Manners may associate with lower classes freely, he unconsciously still shows some feeling of superiority. Somehow, he does talk down to a common reporter and is not even aware of it, as he wasn't aware of making decisions for Simon without consulting him first, something Eric had to point out to him.

Of course, Eric has to greet the reporter himself, and he does so handsomely, feeling less nervous than he thought he'd be, having Darcy and Manners present must mean he's pretty secure from making large blunders.

'Mr Goodfellow, so good to finally meet. I'm sorry to have to ask, but was the review on the culture page in today's Times from your hand?'

'It was, Mr Fielding, and it's our pleasure as reporters to stay as anonymous as possible, it's the news that matters, not who gets to write about it. Though I'm glad my editor sent me to cover the Charity Ball, even if it meant hovering on the sidelines, not daring to put myself forward among the highborn. Thank you so much, Mr Darcy, for allowing me entrance to your house, I really didn't expect that.'

Now Manners takes over, and observes, 'Well, Mr Goodfellow, of course that is not altogether Mr Darcy's excellent nature doing a reporter a good turn. There is a measure of self-interest involved, you're certainly the only reporter who seems to care in the slightest what Mr Fielding's music sounds like. The others appear to be more interested in his past and his love-life.

Feel free to ask any question of any of us, but when writing your article, please remember it should be about Mr Fielding's music, not so much his private situation.'

The reporter merely bows, he is still rather impressed by Manners, and rightly so, that gentleman can be pretty forceful. Still Mr Goodfellow manages to ask very sensible questions, actually starting with a question that enables Eric to tell him the most important information he has to share.

'Mr Fielding, those compositions you played last of all, I was so struck with the emotion they contained, I'd love to know where and how you found them, and how you worked up the courage to be the first pianist in London to play such unabashedly romantic music to an audience that has the reputation of being rather conservative.'

'Do you want me to be totally honest, Mr Goodfellow?' Eric asks, as a kind of introduction to what he is going to reveal to the reporter.

'Yes, please,' the little man replies eagerly.

'Before I read your article I didn't even realise there was such a thing as romantic music. I used to live a very sheltered life, and did not keep abreast of what was happening in the world, or even what was happening in the world of music. My former patron introduced me to certain people who advised him and thus me. Romantic music was never part of that, I guess they didn't want me to play it.'

Puzzled, the man asks, 'But how did you get hold of these compositions, then? I thought you chose them with great care, they were so daring, so feeling.'

He looks at Darcy, dismissing him as the source instantly, then at Manners, then decides to just ask.

'Did someone recommend them to you?'

'Mr Goodfellow, I'm surprised you didn't find out at the Ball, for we told a lot of people. Those compositions came to life in my own mind, sang through my head for weeks, even months, I couldn't get anything done anymore, couldn't even practise playing until I wrote them down.

I didn't know they classified as romantic until you called them such. In a way I'm glad I'm not to be the first to write this style of music, for it will make finding an audience for my compositions so much easier. I will admit to feeling intimidated by having to introduce a whole new kind of music all by myself.'

As Eric explains this, the man's face is a study in surprise, changing to awe.

'You made that concerto yourself? For orchestra, too?'

Eric merely nods.

'I can barely believe that, Mr Fielding. I mean, I know you wouldn't lie, but it's so hard to believe I'm standing in front of a real-life genius.'

And he really seems struck totally dumb for several moments.

Just before the silence starts to become uncomfortable, he manages to say, 'I still hear shreds of it in my mind, it doesn't seem to let go of me. Next time you play in a public place, I'll be there again, Mr Fielding.'

'I suppose we can do a little better than that, can't we Fielding?'

Manners is obviously very, very pleased to see the scruffy reporter totally stunned, the fellow is clearly a real adept in music, having knowledge of what is going on in other countries as well, something Eric can envy him. To see him overcome by the knowledge that Eric wrote those compositions himself is a compliment of the highest kind.

'Do you mind giving Mr Goodfellow a little private show?'

Eric doesn't, he may be a shabby fellow, but is is clear Mr Goodfellow has sound knowledge and a broad taste.

'Not in the least, Manners, I would be honoured. And then, Mr Goodfellow, I want to know where you heard romantic music, and how long it has been in existence, and what other musical movements I have missed while studying virtuosity on the wrong brand piano.'

'A private concert? Just for me? Seriously?'

Then he registers what Eric said.

'The wrong brand piano? You want to learn about music from me? You must be joking! You may turn out to be the greatest musical genius England has ever brought forth, and you want me to tell you about music? I can't even play a folk song!'

Obviously Manners feels it's time to take control once more, of course it wouldn't look good in the papers if the reporter would write about Eric suddenly discovering that his former patron has kept him ignorant on a subject he has studied all his life, without him even noticing. Eric feels stupid and uninformed, and more than a little resentful, who knows what else is out there in instruments and music? That Clementi was such a joy to play.

'I think it's time to do just that, Darcy, will you lead us to your instrument?'

Before Eric can show his resentment against Mr Zumpe even more, they are on their way to the drawing-room, where he knows he will see Georgiana, though if he is wise, he will not seek solace by her side.

She, at least, plays her role to perfection, looking up at their entrance, but bending back over her needlework after acknowledging their presence. She's doing really well learning to embroider, Eric wondered why she would want to learn at all, since she can play the piano like no other lady, and is a pretty good artist when it comes to drawing.

But she explained that she can do neither in company, and she has applied herself to learning with the same determination that has gotten her so far in her playing, which is now starting to show.

Seeing his beloved calms him down significantly, and he sits down at the piano with eagerness. This man truly knows and appreciates music, it will be a true pleasure to play for him. He'd so much like to pick the man's mind for knowledge about music, but of course he is a reporter, and Eric cannot let him know how sadly he lacks that true knowledge himself.

'What would you like to hear, Mr Goodfellow? Miss Darcy's Buntebart lends itself to both virtuous pieces and my own romantic music. I can give you either, or a bit of both.'

'You have been so forthcoming to me, Mr Fielding, and you are such an incredible talent, anything you want to demonstrate would be a privilege to hear. But if you'd play your last piece again, I'd be a very happy man, it was so incredibly beautiful.'

Frankly, Eric hasn't played that since the ball, in agony then, almost too happy to believe right now. Will this discerning listener hear the difference? Will Eric feel the difference?

'I'll start with that, then, and let you hear a bit of my new study-piece next, and a sonata I've practised with Miss Darcy. And if it pleases you, we can play the harpsichord, too, we've re-discovered it planning to translate Bach to the pianoforte.'

Mr Goodfellow looks at Georgiana and the little harpsichord in turns, he can hardly believe his luck, and nods slowly.

'Of course, yes, please, I'd love to hear that. The harpsichord, few people even remember it, poor thing. And you have such a pretty one, Miss Darcy.

People always say, Miss Darcy plays the piano so well, but you know, no-one has actually heard you play. It will be such an honour to be allowed to be the first, and I promise, I will not write about you in my article if you don't wish to be mentioned. My colleague went way too far in my humble opinion, speculating about all kinds of private matters. I'm not like that, I write about music.'

Lovely, beautiful Georgiana, she smiles her most ravishing smile for this plain man, and her voice sounds like angels singing.

'Thank you, sir. I was feeling a bit hesitant about playing for someone who I know works for a large paper. It gives you a lot of power, Mr ..'

'Goodfellow, Miss Darcy. And I would be very thankless to repay your brother's hospitality and Mr Fielding and Mr Manners' kindness by writing gossip and trash. I assure you that is not the way to stay welcome on important occasions.'

'Too true, Mr Goodfellow, nice to meet you. You're incredibly eloquent, I don't wonder you write for a living. I'll be happy to play for you.'

Oh, Georgiana, measuring up to her future in public life already! It's very hard not to show his admiration for her openly, but Eric will save it for his performance, it will give his own composition a whole new meaning.

And as Darcy invites their scruffy guest to sit down in a lush chair close to the piano, Eric launches into his latest work, finding his moments of dejection still powerful, though they are memories by now. Whenever his composition expresses his elation, it truly soars, and when he finishes he can feel a new part will be added soon, born of feelings of triumph and bliss.

Without waiting for a reaction, he starts in the direction of his leather case, but finds Georgiana standing right next to him with the correct sheets already in hand.

'I suppose you still want these, though you know at least half by heart?'

Her cheeks are as flushed as they usually are after one of his performances, and he so wants to kiss her, but he doesn't.

'Indeed I do, Miss Darcy. Thank you so much for getting them.'

'My pleasure, Mr Fielding, I'll be ready with the next set when you're finished.'

A little light in her eye makes her look lovelier than ever, she is enjoying this bit of theatre!

Though he hasn't studied all of this piece, yet, and therefore cannot play it in its entirety, he knows the part he has studied is so incredibly difficult it cannot fail to impress anyone listening. But talking to the reporter has brought to Eric's attention that this piece is one from his collection, a collection that was put together by Mr Zumpe.

Of course it's exactly what his former patron likes, incredibly difficult and of an unmatched virtuosity, and Eric will certainly study it until he has mastered it completely. But after that he will try to look further, discover different kinds of music, delve into romantic music as much as he can manage from London.

While he finishes these thoughts, he tests his variegated scales on Mr Goodfellow, and even those impress the scruffy man in the luxurious chair.

Then he lets them flow over into the new piece seamlessly, and concentrates on the difficult score in front of him.

When he is done, he looks at their guest, and is not disappointed, however much this man likes music with strong emotions, he can appreciate virtuosity as well.

'This is the best day of my life, Mr Fielding!' he exclaims with feeling, as soon as he has found his voice back.

'I knew you were good, but I've never heard the likes of this. Will you play this in public as well?'

'Thank you, Mr Goodfellow, I will, but I have not mastered it in its entirety yet. There's about one fourth to go. Now, Miss Darcy, will you join me at the piano?'

Georgiana approaches with the right music sheets, for herself, his score is in his mind, he improvises it every time they play this piece. She never shows a sign of that bothering her, his accompaniment being slightly, or more than slightly, different each time. She just plays her part and enjoys the harmonies they create together.

She starts with a few scales as well, to get the feel of the instrument, as if she's not playing it for hours each day, she really is an actress born, and again, their guest shows his astonishment openly. Well, if a few scales with variations impress him, he's in for a treat!

On Eric's signal, Georgiana changes the scales into the sonata, and before long he joins her with his improvised accompaniment. It's such fun to do this together, if it wouldn't harm both their studies they could do this all day long! Frankly, Georgiana is performing this so well by now, she could play it by herself, but Eric knows she wouldn't appreciate his quitting his playing all of a sudden.

So they merely finish it and accept plenty of compliments.

'Do you want to play the harpsichord together as well, Mr Fielding?'

Georgiana sounds respectful, she's obviously nothing more than his pupil, even their easy familiarity is totally gone. It's a bit frightening, he hasn't dreamed holding her, has he? She's merely acting, isn't she?

A wink and a little smile prove she is, and he replies as formally.

'If it pleases you, Miss Darcy, I'd love to have you show off your accomplishments.

Miss Darcy had never played a harpsichord until not even a week ago, Mr Goodfellow. Then she received a compilation of Bach works as a Christmas gift, and as you know, to make a good translation one needs to speak both languages.

So we picked up some skills on the harpsichord. I used to be a real expert, having learned from a master in Prague, but after a few years one has to learn those skills all over again.'

And their performance is still not capital, but since they know this, they have selected several folk-songs to translate to the harpsichord, and the easiest of the Bach works sounds reasonably professional, and it's great fun.

Together they play the folk-songs, they're among Mrs Darcy's favourites, she loves simple songs, and the bright tones of the harpsichord always make her smile. This time is no exception.

'Will you please play the Bach by yourself, Mr Fielding? I really need a little more practice on the harpsichord.'

It really is Georgiana, talking as if they've just met and he is still a taskmaster. But it is impossible to deny her anything, so he assents and does not allow his eyes to follow her as she finds a place among the spectators. Still getting used to the little instrument, he nonetheless feels he performs creditably, and when he is done, all applaud him.

'I so love that cute little instrument, Mr Fielding,' Mrs Darcy observes happily.

'Such a good idea of you to scour the attic for a discarded one, and it still has such a lovely tone, after all these years covered in dust.'

'It is an antique?' the reporter enquires.

Darcy replies this time, he hasn't said much so far, but he did Eric a real service, inviting this unsightly fellow into his house to help his protégé find useful publicity.

'Mr Fielding, Miss Darcy, and one of Mrs Darcy's sisters hunted for it in our large attic. It must be at least fifty years old, but most likely it's much older, for this house has been in my family for at least double that time, and it was in the very back, with the oldest stuff.'

'May I study it for a moment, Mr Darcy? I may be able to find a maker's mark, I have studied harpsichords for years, though one rarely hears them played anymore. It was an exquisite pleasure to hear you play this one, Mr Fielding, I hope you will allow me to mention it in my article, and I hope you will consider taking the little treasure along when you play concerts.

Miss Darcy as well, it would be such a motivation for girls to hear they can excel at playing, too, if only they practise regularly. Though I suppose you have a sizeable talent yourself, Miss.'

Is he suggesting Eric should take Georgiana on the stage? It's not even impossible, but it needs a lot of thinking over.

'You may write about the harpsichord, if Mr Darcy agrees, with a little more practise I can add some Bach to my repertoire.

And of course Miss Darcy can speak for herself really well, but I would advise her to do some thinking before she even considers performing in public. It means even more exposure to the society reporters.'

Georgiana does answer the reporter herself, 'Thank you for the compliment, Mr Goodfellow, but I'd rather not be mentioned in your article, and I'd have to consider performing in public very seriously. I'd love to, but I'm not sure I'm good enough, I don't want people to accept mediocrity because I'm a girl.'

The little man now examines the little instrument, the lacquered outside, and the interior, and suggests, 'It may very well be a hundred years old, I think it's German in origin. The tone is exceptional for such an age, though there are much older ones around, from Flanders mostly. But a lot of those are fakes.'

Then he rights himself and bows.

'I've taken up enough of your time, I thank you very much for letting me have a look into your lives, that doesn't happen too often. I will not disappoint you writing my article.'

Manners now observes, 'We're looking forward to reading your work, Mr Goodfellow. If we're pleased with what you've written, we'll let you know when something newsworthy happens. Do you have an address where you can be reached?'

The reporter hands him a card, and clearly shows some discomfort. Whatever can be the matter?

'Mr Darcy, to thank you for allowing me this personal interview with Mr Fielding, I want to share some information with you, which you will not be pleased to receive.

When I was waiting to see whether someone of your household would speak to me, I got in touch with your butler, who told me, literally, that a shabby midget like me would never be allowed in the house of Mr Darcy of Pemberley. He added, 'But if you're looking for some newsworthy facts to put in your paper, I can get hold of some interesting information, for a fee of course. Wait here, I'll get back to you as soon as my duties allow.''

He looks positively pained, and adds, 'I don't know whether he was bluffing to make a few bob, but I suppose you're not the kind of man to risk a servant spying on your wife, your sister and your friends. As well as yourself, undoubtedly.

I'll leave you to act however you see fit. Thank you very much for your kindness and your time!'

Darcy leads the man out, and Eric can see he is taking the reporter's warning very seriously, they are talking intently. As soon as the man has left the drawing-room, Georgiana and Mrs Darcy exclaim almost as one, 'Not again!'

At Manners' and his own questioning glance, Mrs Darcy explains, 'We've had Johnson just these last few months. The butler before him had been in the family for ten years, and he abused his power over the other servants.'

'And he even tried to bully me,' Georgiana adds.

'We chose this man carefully, and now we'll have to wait what information about us he has sold to the newspapers. You're not altogether safe either, Mr Manners, better watch yourself.'

Mrs Darcy is right, and Eric also realises that Johnson knows about their engagement, someone might pay to hear that.

'I hope Fitzwilliam has written all his important connections about our engagement,' Georgiana says, 'for the paper will beat his letters in speed of delivery, I'm afraid.'

'Your brother is an independent man, Miss Darcy,' Manners now observes calmly, 'he can ignore anything his relatives say or do. You need not worry about your engagement becoming public a few weeks earlier than planned.

And you need not worry about me either, Simon and I have both been very careful, I never trust anyone enough to catch me in a way that may compromise me, years of living with servants have taught me to not ignore anyone in a household, not even the lowliest maid or the most dimwitted stable-sweeper.'

Darcy is staying away for rather a long time, and Eric has no clue whether that is a good or a bad thing, but since there is nothing he can do to stop the butler from selling information to a newspaper anyway, he decides to use him time well, and snuggles really close to Georgiana, holding her hand and kissing her a tiny bit.

Mrs Darcy picks up her needlework once more, and Manners joins her where she sits, though not in her work. They talk about the offers Eric has had for concerts, and the implications this will have for Mr and Mrs Darcy. As long as Georgiana and Eric are merely engaged, her brother and his wife will have to stay in London to supervise, and Manners knows Mrs Darcy will attract nearly as much attention as Georgiana.

Then Darcy returns, smiling!

'I convinced Mr Goodfellow to buy Johnson's information anyway, with my funds of course, to find out what he knows. Of course there is a risk he'll publish it, but I suppose he prefers to stay close to the source, one scoop on Johnson's information would be his last, and he knows it.'

'Will you dismiss Johnson right away?'

'I don't think so, Manners, I want to be fair, so I guess we'll all be haunting our own house once more, trying to catch him at it. He goes home after dinner, and he has to avoid being seen by all the other servants, so I suppose he will not have rummaged through our bedrooms as of yet.

I cannot say I'm looking forward to choosing yet another butler, I'm getting a bit tired of seeing new faces all the time.'


	68. Chapter 68

Chapter 78

Some nights later, Darcy lets Elizabeth convince him to provide an hour's entertainment by reading to his family, now including Fielding, and their one remaining guest, Manners.

His cousin is still staying over, but he's not really a guest, staying out all day and coming home late at night.

Since Manners will stay with them for the duration of their own residence in London, and most likely at Pemberley thereafter, and Fielding will be there, too, since Georgie is, Darcy decides to start the pirate tale afresh.

And both men are highly diverted by the tale of woe, ending in the anticlimactic shipwreck that forces the main characters into piracy. When Darcy has finished the first part with a flourish, and their new companions have complimented him on his elocutive skills, their party separates into smaller groups.

Georgie and Fielding tackle a new page of Bach, Elizabeth listening in and working, and Manners sits at the table, teaching Simon German. It's rather weird to have Simon around as if he's company, but when Manners asked permission to teach him some gentleman's skills Darcy couldn't very well refuse. Remembering what Fitzwilliam said about the accident of birth, Darcy realises Simon can pass for a young English gentleman very well, and after years of faithful service to Darcy he deserves a chance to better himself and see something of the world.

All is quiet for an hour or so, Darcy never consciously hears practising, not on the piano, and he finds he can ignore the harpsichord as easily, though most people would say it sounds rather jangly, and playing the same bars of music again and again might drive them mad.

After an hour of Bach, Georgie looks so tired Darcy expects her to turn in, but she's obviously loathe to leave her beloved behind and seek her cold bed. Fielding apparently knows his fiancée pretty well already and closes the lid of the harpsichord resolutely. Then he gently places Georgie in the easy chair close to the piano, and sits at the keyboard himself. He is going to play for her, that is so romantic!

The tones he brings forth are a perfect mixture between poetry and music, speaking volumes of his happiness and his attachment to Georgie, who is of course totally overcome by this moving testimony of his love for her. Darcy cannot remember having heard this composition before, it sounds like an original Fielding, did he write that in the few days since their understanding?

It doesn't last very long, suggesting it is indeed a new work, and when the last notes die away, the young couple exchanges one last embrace, then retires for the night. Georgie is so tired, she will be not be yearning for her Eric long, she'll be fast asleep in moments.

Simon retreats straight after his lesson, without displaying any sign of affection towards Manners or regret at parting. Elizabeth has obviously enjoyed the music very much, and Darcy sits next to her while Manners arranges his notes.

Suddenly the front door slams shut so loudly they can hear it in the drawing-room. Knowing it's Fitzwilliam coming back, Darcy suspects he's rather intoxicated, for his cousin would not usually behave with so little sophistication. His fellow officers must be a rough lot, for two days now he has been down for breakfast, but clearly hung over. That is not like cousin Fitzwilliam at all, he is always so calm and responsible. Fortunately he is not troublesome when inebriated, or his reputation as an officer might be in danger. Since Darcy is rather worried, he has decided to wait up for him tonight and see whether Fitzwilliam cannot be drawn out to talk about what is troubling him.

His cousin now enters the drawing-room, as Darcy hoped, and though he is obviously surprised to find Darcy, and Elizabeth, still up, he does not make his way towards either of them. Instead, he sits himself beside Manners, who greets him kindly, but also with some concern.

Suddenly Darcy realises Manners has probably talked to Fitzwilliam the last two nights, there seems a kind of bond between them. Drunk as he is, Fitzwilliam does not guard his tongue.

'Thank you so much for lending me an ear, Manners. You're such an admirable fellow, you know I've been thinking...'

His cousin is really far gone, he is slurring his words and leaning on Manners, who seems not at all surprised or put out by Fitzwilliam's spirits induced familiarity. Despite his drunken rambling, Darcy catches shreds of their conversation, actually, it's more like his cousin's monologue.

'...you've actually missed out on a lovely woman as much as I have.

My cousin is very special, but I suppose it couldn't be helped that she fell for Mr Fielding, I guess they were meant for each other. But that doesn't help you one bit, like knowing I couldn't afford to marry Miss Eliza didn't help me when she married Darcy.

You're left out, like I was.

Though you don't seem to be in much pain, Mr Manners, or you hide it well. Was Darcy right when he mentioned you didn't seem to be passionately in love with my cousin?'

Is Manners hiding a tiny bit of alarm at this possibly dangerous question? But Fitzwilliam continues heedlessly.

'You see, if he was right, I may know a way for you to make a profitable marriage.'

What is he on about? He's not thinking of their cousin, is he? But he is.

'My other cousin, Miss Anne de Bourgh, the late Sir Lewis de Bourgh's daughter, is as yet unmarried, nor is she likely to ever marry. You see she never goes out, she was never presented at court, nor will she be, for she is sickly and fancies herself at death's door, has done so for as long as I can remember.

And any possible suitor to approach her despite these disadvantages, will have to face my aunt Catherine, who strikes fear in all but the most stout-hearted.'

Like Elizabeth, Darcy thinks proudly. She wasn't afraid of aunt Catherine, not in the least.

'Now suppose you'd like to be married well, but not be bothered much by your lady wife, cousin Anne would be a great choice. She'd probably prefer to live on your estate with her lady-in-waiting, and let you go about your business in town.

I suppose she would be glad to be rid of her mother and get a tiny bit of a life for herself, aunt Catherine tends to be rather possessive of all those near her at any given time.'

Manners shows nothing more than a polite interest in Fitzwilliam's rantings, of which Darcy is glad, for had he perceived any sign of distinct interest in their friend he'd be slightly disappointed in him. Anne is not good company, and she must be miserable living with aunt Catherine, but Fitzwilliam shouldn't sell her to a man he barely knows.

Right at that moment, Manners looks straight at Darcy to give him a meaningful look. He's merely allowing Darcy's cousin to rant, he doesn't seem put out or disgusted at all by someone so obviously drunk, he probably saw plenty of that in his clique's college days, and maybe even a few years after. Fortunately his friends seem to have grown up a little since then, they behaved perfectly decent at Bingley's wedding. Well, except Grenfell.

'There is one large disadvantage to the match, though,' Fitzwilliam continues to slur, 'it's by no means certain she'll ever be able to give you an heir, since she's always indisposed.'

By now, Elizabeth has caught on to what Fitzwilliam is proposing to their house-guest, and though she does not move, she does look shocked. She is obviously not used to hearing drunken rantings.

Darcy has seen his cousin in this state before, though very rarely, not often enough to be truly worried for his health or his mind. It's just that it's so unseemly and demeaning to be so little in control of oneself.

But it gets worse.

'You know, Mr Manners, if you are looking to fall hopelessly in love like Darcy did, with a woman worth spending time with, cousin Anne is not exactly what you might want.'

Again, Manners shows some discomfort, is the Colonel on to him?

'But if you want to be respectably married, and still be free to enjoy what the big city has to offer a man of means, the bars, the ladies, like Darcy's father did, my cousin would be a perfect little wife.'

Wait a second, Fitzwilliam knows about that? Before Darcy can control himself with Manners present, he has fired a question at his cousin.

'Fitzwilliam, do you know about my father's indiscretions?'

Without the slightest hesitation, Fitzwilliam replies, 'Sure, my father often wondered how a man like your late and lamented father could have such a righteous son. Father told me your mother complained to him sometimes. Though she generally was very happy to be married to the estimable Mr Darcy, to her he was a very good man who had just one little failing that he hid from the world rather well.

So I thought, maybe our cousin would like a man like that, she's delicate, too, and Mr Manners seems the epitome of respectability. He's certainly not going to wear our cousin out!'

At Darcy's shock at Fitzwilliam's coarse insinuation, he merely mumbles, 'You don't believe me? Ask my father, he'll tell you all about it.'

Oh, Darcy believes him, and Darcy will ask his uncle, ever since he has found out his father didn't take his marital vows terribly seriously, and practically led Wickham into debauchery, though that character obviously didn't need much leading to get there, Darcy has been determined to get to the bottom of it. Except he didn't know how. Now he knows where to start.

By now, Fitzwilliam is no longer talking, he has fallen totally silent instead, and he looks positively distraught. It's enough to give the strongest man a heartache. Elizabeth, seeing Darcy's pity at beholding his favourite cousin in such a state, immediately takes action.

'You talk to Mr Manners, I'll handle your cousin. Is he drunk?'

Darcy nods, then adds, 'He does that sometimes, when he's with the officers, he indulges too much. It doesn't make him aggressive, or obnoxious, as it does so many. But he's usually not that talkative, nor as emotional as this, I cannot imagine he's that much affected by Manners' plight, or Anne's.'

His beloved seems to know what is the matter, and she walks towards the two men slowly, then with a nod at Manners invites cousin Fitzwilliam over to the piano, where she guides him into the easy chair next to it, and starts to play some mellow songs for him.

So that's what is troubling Fitzwilliam, he should have known.

Since there is nothing he can do to help his cousin, Darcy merely shakes his head and joins Manners.

'Your cousin seems rather unhappy, Darcy, I'm very sorry to see a good man turn to the bottle.'

And Manners truly means what he says, that's very obvious from the tone of his voice and the look on his face.

'He always indulges when he is in London and visits the officers' club, but I haven't seen him this bad. He's never weepy like this, I know what is bothering him, but a broken heart just cannot be resolved unless time does it for him.'

Manners nods in understanding.

'I can introduce him to some nice ladies, you know. He's an admirable man, in his usual state.

What's this about your cousin? Is he trying to match us for her sake, or mine?'

Darcy doesn't know what to say.

'He's drunk, he doesn't know what he is saying, he's blabbering.'

'I don't think so, Darcy, I think his heart is really in this, does he like his cousin a lot? Is she unhappy living with her overbearing mother? I know for a fact that not being able to lead one's own life can be very painful, even if that life is privileged otherwise.'

Of course Darcy cannot believe Manners is talking about himself here, no-one can ever have told this man what to do, not even as a child, there is no way Darcy can imagine Manners bowing to anyone.

And indeed their new friend smiles heartily.

'I can read you like a book, Darcy, no, it wasn't I who was dominated by my mother, but one of my friends, still is. It's Grenfell, actually, his mother still rules him, decides everything for him, and he lets her. He cannot refuse her.

And then, sometimes, he breaks out completely and dangerously.'

Darcy decides to ignore Manners' implication that somehow, his dominant mother is responsible for Grenfell's contemptible behaviour. That's ludicrous, that man is a menace because he has no self-control whatsoever. But they were talking about Darcy's cousin.

'I do think my cousin Anne must be relatively unhappy. Frankly, I hardly ever spend any thoughts on her. She doesn't do anything with her life, never reads, has nothing interesting to say, and still my aunt expected me to marry her. It is very possible I dislike Anne for that.'

'Maybe your cousin was keen on marrying you, Darcy, hoping you'd obey her mother as she always did herself. Maybe she is as love-sick as your cousin, and he noticed and wants her to be at least out of reach of her mother and have a measure of freedom.'

That doesn't even sound too unlikely, though Darcy has never seen a sign of Anne loving him. And yet, what other gentlemen did she ever get the chance to meet? Did anyone ever offer her an opportunity to fall in love, or to at least have her own establishment? Decide what to do with her life? Maybe cousin Fitzwilliam was right, maybe even Anne should be offered a choice, even if it means entering the meat-market without the slightest preparation.

'A penny for your thoughts, Darcy,' Manners observes with humour.

'Either you are more than half asleep, or you are shocked beyond belief by my suggestion that your poor cousin might actually have a personality to speak of, or ...'

And he drops a silence that clearly announces he's not done with his enumeration.

'...or you agree at least partially with my reasoning and accept your cousin might want to explore the world beyond Rosings.'

Manners knows the family?

Or Simon has told him about Anne, a keen part of his brain tells him. Darcy's valet must have heard plenty of gossip during his repeated stays in the servants' quarters there. Of course Darcy never asked Simon what he knew, a gentleman doesn't gossip, that would be unthinkable.

But these days, Darcy has grown a lot more practical. If Anne is very unhappy, and Fitzwilliam thinks having an establishment might help, there should be something the two of them can do for their mutual cousin. Maybe invite her over to London. Though aunt Catherine will never allow her to stay with her former favourite, who has disgraced himself in her eyes by marrying beneath him.

'Do you know my cousin Anne, or my aunt Catherine?' he asks his companion.

Is it his imagination, or does Manners indeed look a little conscious as he replies, 'I have not had the pleasure of meeting them in person, no, but I know of them, as I knew of you and your sister before we met at Netherfield. Those who do not join society but have a place in it through their descent or their reputation are now and again discussed to keep them from being forgotten altogether.

Of course that gives no guarantee at all about the accuracy of the information being exchanged.'

Manners smiles, a successful attempt to downplay the gossiping that has always irritated Darcy, especially since it is usually based on untruths.

'But I owe most of my information to Simon, whom I asked about your cousin Anne when your cousin the Colonel lamented her in a very similar conversation we were engaged in yesterday night after he came home. He seems to have forgotten about that, it's the spirits speaking, my friends often experience these episodes of forgetfulness when they have indulged too heavily. Which is why I have never been able to abuse spirits to that extent myself, though there have been times when I found myself tempted to join them, to forget the hardships of living a secret double life all my adult years.

Doing such a thing would certainly have exposed my shameful secret, though, and gotten me cast out of society. So I refrained from taking to the bottle, gaining a reputation for steadiness and principle instead, and thus a boundless influence over my college mates, who depended on me to keep them out of trouble.

'Simon confirmed that your cousin Anne was very unhappy, you know he has often found himself the only sober one among his peers, for the same reason I just stated and with the same result of being regarded as stable and trustworthy. Likewise, he ended up being confided in by numerous others, among whom Miss de Bourgh's lady-in-waiting. She entrusted Simon the knowledge that her beloved charge was indeed very unhappy living without love, under the unwavering attention of her mother, draining her will to such an extent that she never even thought of trying to escape by using her fortune or her connections.

Your cousin merely waited for your proposal to get her out of her deadlock. She knew you didn't love her, and never would, but I suppose she overestimated her mother's influence on you.

Just as our friend Grenfell waited for his mother to pass away or hoped for a gentle lady with intentions of marriage to lead him out of his situation, only with opposite effect, Miss de Bourgh having sunk into passiveness altogether, and my friend at times turning to aggression and abuse.'

Darcy still has a hard time thinking of Grenfell without a flash of anger, and he does not check his reaction at Manners making excuses for the piece of trash. But he does not comment, and merely continues the conversation on their real subject.

'Simon never told me any of that, of course I would have considered it gossiping if he had. And he has always been so good at keeping quiet, even when he was bullied by his own colleagues.'

That still smarts, Simon holding back on Janine and Theo making his life difficult. Still, it is good for Simon to finally have someone to talk to, and since Darcy now knows Fitzwilliam is right about their cousin, they can think of some scheme to help her change her life for the better, though setting her up with Manners is of course not the best way to do that. Still, they will be going out among the fashionable crowd a lot in the coming months, and if Fitzwilliam means to invite Anne to London, she is welcome to accompany them.

'Simon had no idea you wouldn't throw him out if his tormentors betrayed him. There was no way he could have told you about it. But you are right, he holds a wealth of information on various families you have been visiting over the years safely under his hat and he cannot be bought. He thinks we should help Miss Anne, should you be interested in his opinion.'

Yes, Darcy is interested in Simon's opinion, and tomorrow, when Fitzwilliam is back to sobriety, Darcy will offer to assist in any attempt to get their cousin to London, though not to match her with Manners.

'I think the Colonel is ready to go to bed now, Fitzwilliam.'

Once again, Darcy is acutely aware of Elizabeth's true age, she seems so much older and wiser than her twenty years, but she may have never seen a man drunk before, and since she really likes Fitzwilliam it is not impossible she may be worried about him. She sure sounds like she is, her voice is different than usual.

Manners has noticed as well, and offers, 'Mrs Darcy, will you let me take him upstairs to his room? I'm almost ashamed to say my friends still overindulge regularly, I know exactly how to handle such a situation. In fact, I took him to bed yesterday night and the night before. He is not in any danger, I assure you. He'll merely have a splitting headache tomorrow, and of course he'll feel terribly ashamed of himself, to have a lady see him in this state. But a bit of just shame may be the only thing he needs to break with his behaviour.'

'Yes, please, Mr Manners, if you would. It breaks my heart to see him like this, I feel guilty for causing someone such pain, again.'

See, Darcy was right, she comforts Fitzwilliam but feels bad about it herself, she is so young and so tender-hearted, his beloved, feeling guilty over something she really cannot help.

As Manners takes Fitzwilliam's arm over his shoulder and starts towards the staircase, Darcy takes his beloved in his arms, and she clings to him as she has rarely done before. Elizabeth is never needy or dependent, Fitzwilliam's plight must have struck her hard.

Secretly, Darcy enjoys the feeling of being able to comfort his beloved with his presence, it makes him feel strong and wanted, but when he finds her crying quietly, big tears rolling over her beautiful face, he is actually a bit shocked. Elizabeth doesn't cry easily, it's not that bad, is it?

He kisses her gently, and strokes her lovely dark hair, and soon her tears dry up and she tells him what the problem is.

'He's still in such pain, my love, I wonder whether playing for him didn't make it worse. I wonder whether staying here with us doesn't make it worse. It's like witnessing the pain you must have felt, but I can't do anything!'

Now she smiles wanly, observing, 'And now it sounds as if I only married you to do something about your pain. But you hid that well, I never knew until you told me.'

'When I was around you, I never felt it. Somehow your presence always gave me hope. Except when I handed you the explanatory letter, in Rosing's Park.'

Some of his love's wit is returning, for she manages to say, 'Well, your cousin certainly shows his pain, do you really think your cousin Anne feels that way about you? You never encouraged her, never did anything to feed a possible affection, did you? I certainly didn't observe any sign of affection in either of you when at Rosings, and I must confess I was looking for it, to amuse myself by judging Miss Bingley's chances of winning you.'

'You watched me with cousin Anne? I never noticed, though I certainly watched you most of the time. You ladies are so much more subtle. But, what did you conclude?'

'Miss Bingley was not particularly subtle. I never noticed any sign of affection in you or your cousin Anne, not love, but no filial love either. You were always polite to her, but that seemed to be common courtesy. She never gave any attention to anything or anyone, she was mostly being given attention, by Mrs Jenkinson, by your aunt, by my cousin and Charlotte. I remember thinking Miss Bingley having the poor luck not to be your relation, or you'd as likely marry her. Little did I know, Fitzwilliam...'

'That all this time I was dreaming of you instead?'

Darcy inadvertently squeezes her to himself more tightly, as if to prevent her from leaving him, memories instantly flashing through his mind of how carefully he had hidden his love from its object, and the dramatic conclusion of that visit to his aunt. But they take a mere few seconds to fade, Elizabeth loves him now, she is his forever.

An arm wriggles free of his clutch and strokes his face and hair, a few kisses follow, and Darcy resumes their conversation.

'I can imagine Anne regretting the loss of her escape from her mother, but I agree with you that she never loved me. Not as cousin Fitzwilliam loves you. But, my love, it is not your fault he does, just as my unhappiness wasn't your fault. You never did encourage me, it was my own arrogance that fancied you in love with me. And you never encouraged Fitzwilliam either, you behaved with perfect propriety. Though I was very jealous of the easy way in which you two connected, one would suppose it would have made me aware of your dislike of me, but it didn't. I just waited patiently for you to acknowledge my presence, convinced your teasing was a sign of love.'

And now the strong woman is back altogether, and Darcy cannot decide which part of her he loves best, it is good to have her cling to him, but it is also very pleasant to have her calm and self-assured. But of course she is much happier when she is like this, and no lover can ever wish his dearest unhappy.

'Well, in that case I shall stop feeling guilty, Fitzwilliam, and help you find a way to improve your cousins' lives, both of them. Though you know, Miss Bingley loved you a lot longer than the Colonel can have fancied me, you were intimate, we only met for dinner-parties, during a three week visit. And yet I feel more for your cousin.'

'Do you suppose she will really marry Grenfell?' Darcy can't help asking.

'I hope not, she'd undoubtedly regret it, I don't like her, but I don't want to see her victim of a demeaning marriage either.'

Well, maybe, if Grenfell is as easily led as Manners seems to imply, his staff has more to fear of him than Miss Bingley. Maybe she'll be able to rule him as well as his mother, and he'll still be powerless and aggressive. That possibility does not bear contemplating.

'I'm glad it's none of my business, Elizabeth, let us try to do some good for my two relatives in the two months we're still here, then take a very long break from society at Pemberley.'

'You're right, of course, and since your aunt will not allow your cousin Anne to stay here, we will not have to put up with her and her Mrs Jenkinson all the time.

Do you think it would be best if I avoid the Colonel for some time? Help him forget?'

'No my love, I don't. I think he will have to come to terms with his feeling of loss, and avoiding him will only postpone his facing his disappointment. We'll talk to him tomorrow, about Anne, maybe helping her will help him as well. Shall we turn in now? I think Manners will not return to take his leave, I suppose he was waiting up for my cousin and wanted to talk to us about him tonight, or he'd have gone to bed sooner.'


	69. Chapter 69

Chapter 79

Of course the Colonel looks awful the next morning at breakfast, and Elizabeth feels sorry for him, but she also wonders at his lack of restraint, drinking oneself into a stupor each night is quite demeaning. Though Elizabeth has never before seen anyone as far gone into drunkenness as him, at their local parties she often saw some gentlemen inebriated, even respectable Sir Lucas.

Seeing the Colonel in this state state has hit her hard, because she feels guilty that she may be the cause of his trouble. Of course the most sensible part of her reminds her that Fitzwilliam never stooped to drinking himself senseless, however unhappy he was. It is a certain type of man that is susceptible to the lure of finding forgetfulness in a bottle, and part of Elizabeth is disappointed in the Colonel to find him in that class.

As if he can read her thoughts, the Colonel shrinks into himself even further, and practically whispers at her, 'I'm sorry you had to see me in that state, Mrs Darcy. I'm afraid I made an incredible fool of myself right in front of you and Darcy, you must think I'm a raving lunatic to push Manners to marry our cousin Anne. But she really is very unhappy and very lonely, with no-one her own age to relate to.

And though I'm usually like Darcy, inclined to forget all about her very existence, I recently visited and saw her in a downcast state. Suddenly I felt so sorry for her, but I didn't want to burden the two of you with her plight, she really never did seem to care about Darcy, so I kept quiet. But my comrades drink a lot, and somehow I cannot refuse when I'm with them, and walking back home three nights ago it hit me how lonely she must feel. Mr Manners will think I'm feeble-minded, he's listened to my rantings for three nights now.'

With that, he falls silent, and Elizabeth can see Georgiana and Mr Fielding approaching the table, looking fresh-faced and very eager to spend another day side by side. It must be hard for the Colonel, seeing all those happy couples around him, and he doesn't even know about Mr Manners, he thinks he has found a fellow-sufferer in their amiable guest.

But before the Colonel can beat himself up even more about, well, about everything, Fitzwilliam approaches and invites both of them to join him in the little pink sitting-room to discuss what can be done about getting Miss Anne de Bourgh to London for a few weeks of society.

Simon brings a fresh pot of coffee and is off again, as the four of them, Mr Manners is also present, each settle in one of the comfortable seats. The Colonel looks as if he is about to offer an excuse for his behaviour to both gentlemen as well as to Elizabeth, but Fitzwilliam does not allow him the opportunity, for he immediately addresses his cousin with a question.

'Are you really worried about cousin Anne, Fitzwilliam? She doesn't seem particularly unhappy, at least, she didn't last time I saw her.'

Somehow, the guilt and the self-loathing seem to leave the Colonel instantly, he sips his coffee as if to prepare for an eloquent plea, and says, 'She already was, at that time, but she still had some hope you would free her from her meaningless existence. I admit I never spent much time on her either, not on her person nor on contemplating what her life with Lady Catherine must be like. But last time I visited she asked me about Mrs Darcy, whether it was true that you had been taken in against your will, she observed Miss Elizabeth Bennet hadn't looked or sounded eager to please you, nor very likely to marry for money only.

I felt free to tell her the truth, how you'd proposed and had been refused, how you'd stuck to your love and accidentally met Miss Elizabeth again, and how you had finally managed to convince the woman you loved that you were in fact an admirable man.

She cried, said that was much more credible and that she was happy for you, then admitted her own disappointment and loneliness. I couldn't think of anything to do but promise to visit again, soon.'

Something is not right with the Colonel's plea, and after a few minutes Elizabeth knows what it is. Charlotte.

Charlotte would be an excellent companion for Miss Anne, much more of an age with her than Mrs Jenkinson, smart enough to make their conversation interesting. But Miss Anne never even bothered to get out of her carriage when she drove by the house, she never gave Charlotte much attention at all, as she never seemed to spend any time on anyone. Somehow, Elizabeth cannot but wonder if Miss Anne doesn't owe her loneliness to her own selfish behaviour.

'If you invite the young lady to London, Colonel, I can introduce her to several girls of my acquaintance who will make her feel right at home. If you manage to persuade her aunt to stay behind at Rosings, that is.'

Mr Manners has spoken with his usual firmness, and the Colonel is obviously intrigued.

'Are you truly interested in my cousin, then, Mr Manners?'

Showing no emotion whatsoever, Mr Manners merely replies, 'I like to help people, Colonel, and your cousin seems the victim of her circumstances. No-one should be a prisoner in their own home, no matter how luxurious that home is, I'd like to help all of you to get her out into the world a little, show her a good time. Did you tell me she is sickly?'

'People say she has always been weak, but I remember her being lively enough when we were young, don't you, Darcy?'

'Now you mention it, Fitzwilliam, yes, when our uncle was still alive she used to be quite a tomboy. Are you suggesting aunt Catherine bossed the life out of her, literally?'

'You mother was frail, wasn't she?' Elizabeth asks her beloved.

'Yes, love, she was, but she had trouble breathing ever since she was a child. She was so afraid Georgie would get the same affliction, but Georgie never did, and aunt Catherine and Fitzwilliam's father and brothers all have an iron constitution. I suppose it sometimes skips a generation.

Besides, I've never heard of Anne having trouble breathing as my mother did, Anne seems listless, bloodless, like some children in most families that tend to marry among themselves a lot.'

Mr Manners nods, he knows a lot of people of rank, apparently he recognises the signs.

'Well, this is London, we have the best doctors here, no need to worry about the young lady's health. Maybe she just needs to have her blood stirred to give her an appetite and some energy. We'll see, but only if the Colonel manages to get her out here without too many fetters.'

'She will have to take her lady along, but Mrs Jenkinson is much older than Anne, my father has an elderly housekeeper who will manage to keep her indoors while Anne goes to parties with us. You know, I'll ask my father for help, he can handle his sister no problem. He has never concerned himself much with cousin Anne, but if I tell him she's desperately unhappy, he'll help. He loves getting the better of aunt Catherine. Did you write him about Georgiana's engagement?'

'I did, the very day she told us. But it was New Year's Day, I don't know if my letter will beat the newspapers. I'm afraid Johnson may have sold information to other reporters. I asked the regular staff to keep an eye on him, but it may already be too late.'

'Well, there is nothing you could have done but allow your sister and Mr Fielding to be married, Darcy. Some matches are made with hard work, and some were meant to be. You couldn't have stopped your sister from loving Mr Fielding, you could only have made her very, very unhappy, and that is what I'll tell my father and brother if they disapprove. Of course the fact that aunt Catherine will be beyond livid will tickle my father to no end.'

In the end, they decide that the Colonel will write to his father and convince him to invite Miss Anne to his London house to visit a few concerts with his younger son's friends. Then if she comes, Mr Manners will introduce her to a little group of quiet, friendly girls, and they can go to concerts and dances together under his and the Colonel's protection. When the season ends, Anne will hopefully have an invitation to visit one of her new friends in the country, and who knows, she may meet someone special.

In the following days, the Colonel does not come home drunk anymore, but at most slightly intoxicated and rather jolly. Mr Manners takes him along to several gatherings, and Elizabeth does wonder a bit what the two of them are up to, but since the Colonel's spirits improve, maybe she should just be glad of that.

No news of Georgiana's engagement appears in any of the newspapers, and Mr Goodfellow's piece is exactly what Mr Fielding might want. More requests for concerts come in, and Mr Fielding's new calendar is starting to get filled up.

He plays his first two public concerts for a higher class audience, and they all accompany him, though Georgiana still pretends to be his pupil rather than his fiancée.

No further reviews appear in the paper, these concerts are too exclusive for a journalist to be admitted, they will have to wait for his appearance in the middle class hall to know what the general public thinks.

Elizabeth acts as she planned, and takes Simon and Georgiana along on a visit to the little shop where she bought her acclaimed highly risqué fashion.

She requests to talk to the owner, who is surprised to hear that the ensemble praised as high fashion in the society pages of the London Times was one of her own creations, sold to Mrs Darcy ready-made.

'I did congratulate myself, ma'am, that apparently I had the right instinct to predict those little coats coming into fashion soon, if some high-bred lady got one of them all the way from France, in the same colour I had used, and with embroidery too! Never did I dare to hope it was my ensemble out there, and Mrs Darcy a customer of mine without my even knowing! My staff never realised either, and one of them sold you the exact hat that was described in the papers to go with it!'

Though a bit disconcerted at her staff not recognising Mrs and Miss Darcy when they were in her shop the first time, Miss Filliger, a stately young woman of about thirty, is highly gratified to have them return to buy more of her creations. Imagine the estimable Mme Beaution, a French fashion expert!, mistaking her work for that of a Parisian artisan!

'Do I understand correctly, Mrs Darcy, that you want to buy and order enough new dresses and accessories for two weeks, for yourself and Miss Darcy, without telling anyone I made them?'

'Exactly, Miss Filliger. I can tell them immediately, but then you will be overrun by rich customers without having anything to sell them. Also, the impact will be much larger if it turns out that dozens of what they think are French creations turn out to be yours. If you expect all your ensembles to impress Mme Beaution and her peers, waiting to tell them who my seamstress is will make the thing huge, much bigger than telling them straight away.

And waiting a fortnight will give you a chance to prepare some dresses in advance, to make money while you're in the news. You can even make copies of the ones that get the best reviews in the papers.'

'I suppose it will be great fun if they all wonder who made them for weeks, and then Mrs Darcy reveals she bought them ready-made, in a shopping-centre in an unfashionable part of town. I like it, Mrs Darcy, let's do it your way.'

Under Simon's supervision they let Miss Filliger decide on a whole new wardrobe, some pieces ready-made, needing only a few adjustments, and some pieces to be made on order. For the lady who is not just the owner, but also the creative mind of the little store, has a whole pile of sketches of garments she'd like to create.

'I cannot make all of them for my shop, some need to be fitted exactly to the customer's figure, some need expensive fabrics that I cannot afford to invest in without asking for an advance, and some are just too daring to make in the hopes of selling them; if I don't find a buyer for them I'd lose my work and the investment in materials.'

Simon leafs through the whole pile, making four smaller piles, one for Mrs Darcy, one for Miss Darcy, one for ladies of a different shape, who will undoubtedly start to frequent the store once word gets out. And one pile of designs that are probably too impractical to actually wear, though Simon loves some of them and hopes there may be a market for them in the future.

They choose fabrics for the creations they want to have made, and Elizabeth and Georgiana try to form an image of what they will look like in that particular colour and pattern, not always succeeding, but trusting in Miss Filliger's talent and Simon's taste.

He chooses a lot of accessories as well, happily delegating some of the choosing to the lady designer, who knows every shop in this centre and has an excellent idea where she can buy what she doesn't have the skill, the time, or the inclination to make herself.

'So you'll have these five ready-made dresses delivered to our home, as well as two more of those little coats and the umbrella and these hats? And you'll visit the day after tomorrow to take measurements for the rest?'

Elizabeth is determined to wear each and every one of these dresses more than just once, whatever Mme Beaution and her cronies say. Let Simon and Fanny change the accessories and her hair, she is not going to spend Fitzwilliam's money to please the fashion reporters! Not more than she already is, she realises.

'Yes, ma'am, and I promise you they will all be ready in time. Should I read much praise on the ones you wear first, I'll hire extra help to prepare the collection Mr Close picked out to start with once you reveal our secret.'

Hearing Simon addressed by his last name still startles Elizabeth, but she understands Miss Filliger's reasoning to inquire after it. She wants to show him her respect, since she trusts his insights in the minds of the highborn ladies and the fashion reporters they follow when choosing their attire. If he is right, she can become a very wealthy shop-owner. If he is not, she's sold a dozen dresses to a couple of rich ladies.

Paying cash for what they buy ready-made, they open an account for the rest. As they stroll back towards home, via the same coffee-room they visited last time, Elizabeth wonders whether this is all a good thing, or a bad thing. Does adapting to the outside world mean giving up some part of herself? Or is she still growing to fit her role as Mrs Darcy?

Well, she will undoubtedly soon find out, but at least people will not find her countryfied.

The next day, there is news from cousin Fitzwilliam's father.

When her brother hands her the letter to read for herself, Georgiana feels very mature. The letter is short and to the point, and exudes a kind of humour, apparently her uncle finds it entertaining rather than outrageous that after his nephew, his niece should also marry far beneath her. But by now Georgiana knows there was no choice in the matter, Eric was meant for her, and the other way around. She flatters herself that she has plenty to offer him, not just a name and a fortune. They spend every waking minute together, and she is finding herself ever more useful in keeping him firmly grounded when everything and everyone around him seems to have gone insane.

He is immensely popular already, the two concerts he has played so far were sold out, and many people who Georgiana talked to afterwards professed they had seen him at the Ball, and couldn't get the last piece out of their minds, they just had to hear it again.

It is a peculiar situation, everybody wants a piece of him, and Georgiana has no claim, not yet. She is still pretending to be nothing more than his patron's sister, and sometimes she does feel excluded, especially at those moments when he assumes his stage persona, the beautiful artist who is miles removed from ordinary mortals like herself.

Her uncle's letter gives her relief, first of all because he is obviously not set against the match, though there is nothing he can do to prevent it. And secondly, because the reminder of her rank makes her feel a little less ordinary, though she immediately regrets the feeling of arrogance that seems to come with such a thought. But most importantly, now her uncle knows, they can make the engagement public and she will have the right to walk beside Eric as they enter a venue, and wait in the dressing-room until he actually goes on stage. He will feel supported, and she will feel loved.

'I'm planning to invite Mr Goodfellow over to tell him about your engagement this afternoon, Georgie, do you agree? That way you will be able to accompany your beloved to the private party tomorrow, they are truly exclusive in their invitations.

Of course, as Fielding's patron I cannot be slighted, and you and Mrs Darcy will be allowed to accompany your fiancée and husband. They're very traditional, you know, they prefer not to have gentlemen over, but if they have to allow them it's better to have them escorted by a lady.

Strangely enough, Manners was already invited, though he is a man and single. I suppose he is society's exception to every rule.'

And when they arrive at one of the most impressive mansions in London for this very private affair, Georgiana is glad she has been in the papers once again, that morning, for it seems as if every noble lady under thirty is planning to win the talented Mr Fielding for herself. Even though they know he is a cow-herd's son.

Even though they know he is engaged to Miss Georgiana Darcy, Georgiana can see it in their eyes, they know he is taken, most of those ladies are long married anyway, undoubtedly many have several children, but still they seem to hunger for him, they want to touch him, be it the hem of his coat or a loose tendril of his black locks.

These ladies should be the cream of the nobility, but they look mostly very hungry.

Still, they have to stay behind, to chat with their peers, drink champagne and eat dainties by the dozen, while Eric holds on to Georgiana's hand firmly, taking her to the concert-room, still empty except for row upon row of chairs, and a magnificent piano on the raised stage.

As Eric is going through his usual ritual to get to know a piano, Georgiana sits by and watches him with infatuation. He is so handsome, and he so loves to do this, despite the crowd and the adulation. For it is already very clear Eric doesn't handle that very well. He was raised in humility, and to suddenly be adored by those above him is too much to just take in stride.

Mr Manners merely laughs about it, saying 'I told you so,' for he did predict this.

Eric has advanced to testing the tuning, and this piano is perfect, again. It's a brand Georgiana doesn't recognise, Eric observes it's Italian, and he is very eager to try it, but still he does not skip even one part of his ritual. Georgiana hopes he is not growing superstitious, but he seems far too rational for that, he probably fears to overlook an important step in his preparations, which is why she stays absolutely still unless he asks a question or just chats with her.

The warming up follows, Eric still takes his time to keep his left hand strong.

Next are the variegated scales, and his face lights up.

The scales change into the practise piece quickly, and now Georgiana understands why he was so eager to play this instrument, it's like her Clementi, so light, so clear. After a few more bars he makes room on the stool for Georgiana, and they play some Bach together, they've translated their favourite harpsichord piece to the piano, and the result is very gratifying. But not nearly well-executed enough for the stage, and Georgiana soon retreats to her chair on the side.

The romantic pieces are still beautiful, but not as deeply moving as they sound at home, on one of their larger, smoother instruments. Still, these are infatuated ladies, they don't know that, they'll love it anyway.

'Do you mind?'

No stage persona now, this is Eric at his sweetest, and he sounds quite concerned.

'A little. Most of them are married or engaged, you're engaged, why the fuss?'

'I have no idea. But you know I'm yours forever, don't you?'

'I do.'

'That makes me happy. I don't know why they do it, but Manners predicted they would, and he says it will get worse before it gets better.'

'Never mind, my love, just play your best, and tomorrow we will be together again all day. I'm glad we're officially engaged, though, somehow it feels good to have a claim on you.'

Georgiana manages to say this with a smile, and Eric returns it.

'I know, I've been there. I was so jealous, so hopeless, with all those eligible bachelors circling you at the Ball. I know how you must feel.'

'They were serious, though, and at liberty...'

'….and I was convinced I didn't have a chance. So you see, it might be worse. I'm glad about that, I wouldn't wish that feeling on anyone I loved. Can I have a kiss? Then we can mingle a little, I'm done here. Do stay close to me, these ladies scare me with their hungry gazes, I think they want to devour me. I feel as if my engagement is my only protection.'

As they indeed let themselves be introduced to their host, a petite lady in an immaculate mustard coloured dress with priceless trimmings, Georgiana finds Eric is treated with much more respect than when they first arrived here. No-one gapes at him, or tries to surreptitiously touch him, apparently some kind of calm has descended on the room, maybe the delicious treats that are being offered from all sides keep the ladies occupied.

Observing the crowd, Georgiana wonders which of these perfectly dressed ladies are the queen's ladies-in-waiting. They all look rather conservative in their choice of dress, the few gentlemen present wear breeches, Eric and Fitzwilliam really stand out in their long trousers and unadorned black shoes, their cravats Simon's usual works of art, their hair done in the latest style, which closely resembles Georgiana's own hair when she has just woken up from a bone-chilling nightmare.

Well, at least Simon and Fanny are very happy to be allowed to gild their master and mistresses again, and of course Simon insists on helping Eric as well.

Mr Manners does not stand out half as much, and Georgiana wonders why, until she notices he is wearing breeches and incredibly gaudy shoes. And his coat has a bright colour! How did she not see that before? He must have worn his dark overcoat outside, and in here he sort of fades out against the similarly coloured background, a patchwork of brightly dressed noble ladies and the occasional green or ochre-breeched gentleman.

Georgiana does not need to say anything, for he has already seen her expression, and he hangs his head and confesses, 'I can handle my own valet, but how could I refuse Simon? He practically forced me to buy this and wear it, 'to blend with the crowd' he said. What do you think? Should I have resisted? My valet was mighty pleased to dress me up in it, he's secretly very old-fashioned.'

'No, he was totally right. Look at Eric and Fitzwilliam, they stand out like crows in a coop filled with softly plumed doves. Which is all right, if one doesn't mind being stared at. You blend right in, and will be able to spy on everyone and anyone without being noticed, which I know you love to do.

And you look much better in colours than you think, truly.'

'Thank you my dear. How are you holding up under the adulation?'

'Reasonably well. Eric said you predicted it will be worse before it gets better?'

Mr Manners nods seriously.

'They control themselves now, because that young lady in blue, yes, with the peacock plumes, she works at the palace, and the stout lady over there, you see her? In pink? She's also one of Queen Charlotte's ladies-in-waiting, and of the highest rank. One doesn't demean oneself before either of them.'

As they stand there, the stout lady is moving towards them, and Georgiana is tempted to warn Eric, who is still talking to their hostess, that someone important is coming. But Mr Manners whispers, 'Don't say anything, he's always polite, better he doesn't know, he'll be more natural that way.'

True, for Georgiana herself wishes she didn't know either. But she can hide behind Eric, and Mr Manners, and since she is still naturally shy she is also always polite.

The lady introduces herself without the slightest hesitation, which of course Georgiana is not used to, since she outranks most people and is used to the other party waiting for her to do or say something. This is much better, no need to do anything but reply politely.

To Eric it doesn't matter, he grew up in a middle-class household, where everyone was polite to every stranger because they were all potential customers. And since he knows everyone in this company outranks him he can just wait until they address him, then be himself.

Even Mr Manners does not initiate a greeting, he waits for the lady to decide whom to greet first, and when she decides for Eric, Georgiana feels nothing but triumph. Mr Zumpe was so wrong to tell Eric he would not be accepted among the higher class. Georgiana is reasonably sure she outranks Mr Manners, though him being an adult male and herself an underage girl probably does count, but this lady chooses to greet the star first. Apparently rising fame bestows a rank all of its own.

'Mr Fielding, I have heard so much about you! I'm Lady Harrington, and I'm looking forward to this concert so much! Did I read in the newspaper this morning that you are newly engaged to Miss Darcy of Pemberley?'

Blissfully unaware that this is one of the most powerful ladies in the realm, Eric bows and shows his happiness so clearly that Georgiana has to swallow hugely not to cry for joy.

'Indeed, my Lady, Miss Darcy has seen fit to accept my offer for her hand, though I have nothing to give her but my talent.'

'And such a great talent it is, Mr Fielding. I'm sure I haven't seen a happier man in my life, nor a happier young lady.'

And with that she turns towards Georgiana.

'Miss Darcy, congratulations on your engagement. Such a charming and talented man, you are the envy of the room right now. Though you are so beautiful yourself there will be plenty of gentlemen envying your beau.

I'm so glad to finally get a chance to talk to you, and your brother and his gorgeous new wife. I must introduce myself to the two of them later, I've heard Mrs Darcy is the new name in fashion. You are both so wise, your brother and yourself, to marry for love, not money or connections. I commend you.'

Georgiana curtsies and says, 'Thank you, my Lady.'

She cannot think of anything else, her natural shyness has taken over once more, but it doesn't matter, Lady Harrington does not expect a sixteen year old maiden to have something sensible to say to one of the Queen's ladies.

Then even Georgiana is surprised, as Lady Harrington embraces Mr Manners familiarly and warmly, and says, 'Frederick, I swear I would not have recognised you without your minister's coat. Who managed to hoist you into this fitting attire? Your valet must be a master of diplomacy, or more likely, armed and dangerous. But it becomes you well, my dear, you look in excellent health, and dare I say, happy?'

'Yes, Jane, I think I finally am.'

Mr Manners does not say more than that, and not because he is unduly impressed either, he is obviously familiar with this lady, even friendly. No, he's not impressed by her rank or her considerable presence, Mr Manners is affected by her kind observation, she must know something about his situation.

But she does not explain or question further, she merely looks at Mr Manners one more time, fondly, and says, 'Come, let me introduce our musical genius and his beautiful fiancée to my close colleague, Miss Colman, she's even more impressed by Mr Fielding's ravishing looks, being so much younger than myself. I must admit, she was a bit put out to read of your engagement, Mr Fielding, so soon after discovering your beautiful music at the Ball.'

Showing no discomfort at all, Eric asks, pleased, 'Your friend was at the Ball? So she has heard my music already.'

'Most of us have, Mr Fielding, it's the main event of the year, we wouldn't miss it for the world. That's why we all love Mr Manners so much, he provides us with superb entertainment and a chance to meet a suitable partner. I met my husband at the Ball, you know.'

Eric is obviously flattered, most of these ladies have already heard his music, and want to hear it again! His stunned silence speaks louder than words, for the Lady adds, 'I'm afraid we're all admirers, Mr Fielding, we'll be back again and again, every time you play a venue our husbands or fathers allow us to visit.'

And the young lady they are walking towards, the one with the peacock feathers, openly shows her admiration, despite her apparent rank. People make way for her until she meets them in the middle of the room, and this lady doesn't start by greeting Eric, she looks straight at Georgiana and nods ever so slightly.

Georgiana curtsies in return, guessing this young lady does indeed outrank her, though not certain at all since she has never made a study of comparative ranking and proper etiquette as so many girls at her school did. Often driving Mrs Annesley to despair with her negligent attitude, Georgiana always did prefer playing the piano.

'Miss Darcy, we were all so jealous of you when we read about your engagement to Mr Fielding!'

Georgiana does not have to say anything, for the young lady continues, 'Of course we expected as much after seeing the two of you together at the Ball, but still, we had some hope your brother would object, leaving Mr Fielding a bachelor just long enough to be introduced to him and have a chance to talk.'

What can a girl reply to such a statement? But again, it is not needed, for Eric is now being greeted, and rather familiarly. Miss Colman actually takes his hand in both hers, does she also behave like this in Queen Charlotte's company? Everyone can see her do this, what has gotten into her?

'Mr Fielding, I am so looking forward to hearing you play again. Even before I knew you were the best pianist ever I was desperately in love with you, you are so handsome and you danced so beautifully at the ball.'

Eric manages not to pull back his hand from her touch, he allows her to hold it until she lets go by herself, and he bows and says, 'Thank you for your compliments, Miss Colman, I'm glad you enjoyed my music. If you tell me which piece you particularly enjoyed, I will make sure to play that tonight.'

The young lady's face lights up, and she describes what can only be Eric's first composition. He nods and says, 'I know exactly which piece you mean, I'll play it tonight. It's the first I wrote myself, I'm still amazed people actually like to hear what I have composed.'

By now, more ladies dare to come closer to Eric, and Mr Manners has to step in to prevent them from crowding their party. It's a bit disconcerting to see one's intended so in demand with other ladies, and Georgiana is amazed to find that none of them seem to mind his humble origins.

All the more reason to enjoy being engaged, if she had been censured for promising to marry a penniless commoner she would still have been happy with Eric, but she would have minded being exposed to people's opinions. As it is, her situation is very enjoyable, and it's better these women all know from the start that Eric is not available, that falling in love with him is of no use whatsoever.

Fortunately it's time to prepare for the actual concert, and Mr Manners leads the two of them straight to the nearest door, guarded by a liveried servant, who at the request of Mr Manners opens it to let them into an empty hall, decorated in cream and blue, with beautiful paintings hanging from the walls, and priceless China vases on display.

'You follow me, and I'll lead you to the stage. Do you want to make an entrance, or have your audience enter while you are playing an accompaniment?'

Judging by his expression, Eric seems to find that last a good idea.

'This crowd is so worked up already, I'd like to try the accompaniment, soothing music they can enjoy while waiting for their turn to find a seat. Will Georgiana be close?'

He has taken her hand, and Georgiana uses it to lift his to her face, and drop a kiss on it.

'Marking your territory, Miss Darcy?' Mr Manners' deep voice observes with humour.

'You bet, Mr Manners. Why were those ladies all over Eric? He's engaged, isn't he?'

Mr Manners sounds serious as he observes, 'Engagements can be broken, you know, and some of these adoring ladies are very desirable, or at least they think they are. Maybe they think they still have a chance, before you're finally married.'

'But why, Manners? I'm nobody. Why would they want to try to get what their family wouldn't approve of?'

Eric shows real disturbance, but nothing a few scales won't calm down instantly.

'Somehow it doesn't seem to matter, I'm a bit surprised myself. Usually they weigh every asset a gentleman has minutely, match it to one of their own, and now they'd throw all that away? For a pretty face, and a unique talent? Some of those girls have no relations to please, they're already quite independent at an early age, but those are indeed rare. Most must have their relations' consent to chase you.'

Maybe they should get married as soon as she is seventeen then, though Georgiana doesn't want to fetter Eric to herself, he had enough of that with Mr Zumpe. She trusts her beloved, he loves only her, these admirers disconcert rather than please him.

'If this doesn't die down soon, dear Georgiana, with your consent I'll talk to your brother about getting married by special licence, I remember him talking of these occasions as a meat-market, and I feel like meat now, pinched and prodded to check its tenderness. I feel I have every right to escape that process, I am nothing and I have nothing. Except you, my love.'

Eric still cannot believe it.

'Who'd have thought I'd be in demand like this. Though one bad review will probably send them home instantly.'

Georgiana doesn't think these ladies have fallen for his musical qualities alone, she guesses his handsome face and smart clothes have as much to do with his popularity. And indeed Mr Manners comments, 'I don't think these girls strive for a career as music-critics, Fielding, I think they adore your pretty face and your melancholy air. That won't change with a bad review. I'm afraid you're stuck with them for now, but don't despair, they'll help you gain independence quickly by buying tickets to every one of your concerts and demanding you be invited to play whenever maman or papa set up an evening's entertainment.'


	70. Chapter 70

Chapter 80

Meanwhile, Elizabeth feels rather overwhelmed by the importance of all the people around her.

Actually, the opposite is true. Observing the cream of London high society she is nothing so much as disappointed, they all seem rather dull. Dull in their behaviour and conversation that is, for the colours all around her are positively gaudy.

She has taken Simon's advice and has had Fanny dress her in the least exuberant of her new ensembles, and she is happy to have listened to him or she would have stood out like, well, like Fitzwilliam, actually. He absolutely refused to wear breeches and a colourful coat, and now he not only tops the few present males by at least a head, and the ladies by even more, his dress proclaims him a dangerous, progressive radical.

And he doesn't seem to care one bit.

For someone who used to hate society he seems to have taken to it above Elizabeth's wildest expectations. He does get a lot of admiring looks and even a few stares, maybe they make him feel attractive. But somehow she cannot imagine that's it, in fact, he seems almost lost in thought.

Darcy has no clue of Elizabeth's train of thoughts, he is enjoying the attention but for an entirely different reason: he is especially aware of his beloved, comparing all the ladies he sees to her, as he did at the Ball. None can measure up to his Elizabeth, in his eyes she is the most beautiful, the smartest, and loveliest of all, and she loves him and no other. To be the one walking beside her is the best thing that ever happened to him.

And there is no way she'll ever see him in breeches again, better have everyone stare at him than have Elizabeth look at him as she looked at Manners when she spied their guest in those foppish clothes. The garish colours, the shoes, Darcy cannot imagine how he once wore coats and buckles like that himself. Never again!

Tomorrow, they'll be among the middle-class, and Darcy is really curious how that will turn out. Elizabeth will be wearing one of the more spectacular dresses, Mr Goodfellow will probably attend since it's a public affair, and undoubtedly the gossipers of the society pages will also look their fill of Mr Fielding and his new in-laws. But Darcy mostly wonders whether his soon to be brother-in-law will be chased as determinedly as he is here.

He expects not, and he turns out to be almost right.

As they share Manners' carriage to the hall, Eric feels a certain anticipation rise inside him. This is the world that he came from, where he often performed, where he is already known. The higher classes have accepted him above his expectation, he really needed a quiet day at the piano with Georgiana to process the adulation and possessiveness of the ladies the night before, but what will his former patron's peers say?

Will they adore his music, now officially known as his, and as romantic? Or will they hate it as much as Mr Zumpe did? Tonight he will find out.

The hall is magnificent, they are let in through a veritable artists' entrance at the side of the building, into a comfortable room where they can sit and chat, or where Eric can take his time to find his inner quiet and prepare for the show. At the request of the owner they have come two hours before opening, the stage is located in a public part of the hall, so Eric will have to test the piano before the audience arrives.

'We are nearly sold out, Mr Fielding,' the owner states, he has come to introduce himself to the artist and see whether he is pleased with the accommodation.

'I expect the rest of the seats to be taken within ten minutes after opening. Shall I give you and your entourage a little tour of the building, to give you a feel for it? After that you can try the instrument, I'm so glad you agreed to use our own, I would have loved to have you before now, but Mr Zumpe... well, the less said about that the better. Will you follow me?'

The stage is the highest he has seen so far and there are not one, but two instruments placed on it. One actually seems to be a harpsichord!

'I can see you've noticed our dear little harpsichord. When I read in the papers that you'd found one in your new patron's attic I thought to myself, what Mr Fielding can do, I can do. So I sent someone to the basement of this building, and had my pick from three. I consulted an expert, actually I asked Mr Goodfellow, and he said this one was the best, so I had it fixed up and tuned. I thought you might want to try it, and if it's good enough, we hoped you'd play it, to give the audience what they read about in the papers. If you don't want to use it, we'll have it removed before the show, no-one will even know it was there. Well, except Mr Goodfellow, but he's your biggest admirer, he'll not publish anything you might not like to read about yourself.'

Eric nods, he likes being treated with respect, he really likes that. And he still wishes to meet Mr Goodfellow in private, pick his brain for knowledge on modern music.

Looking around, he realises why the stage is so high, the hall is very large, there are two balconies all around the large middle section, and Eric gets a little nervous thinking of the number of people that will fit in here.

'Won't the sound of the piano drown in the size of this hall?' he asks.

The man smiles proudly, and replies, 'Performers often fear that, but the hall is built in such a way that a single piano will reach the furthest seat without trouble. If the audience is quiet, which I have to admit they sometimes aren't.'

He doesn't seem too care very much about that possibility, so Eric decides he won't either. So far, his audiences have been very attentive.

After leading them through the great hall into a kind of foyer, then up to one of the balconies, and back behind the scenes, the owner leaves them in the backstage room, offering to send someone in with drinks and to help with the preparations. Eric accepts gratefully and takes his beloved and his materials with him to the stage, while Darcy, Mrs Darcy and Manners take a seat in the hall.

The piano can use a little adjustment but the harpsichord is in perfect tune, and soon Eric is playing scales and his practice piece in happy concentration, while Georgiana watches him from the side of the stage.

It's another Italian instrument, had Mr Zumpe allowed Eric to play it before he would have been shocked to hear how much better it sounds than a Zumpe when playing virtuous works. Maybe it's for the best he never did. Strangely enough, Eric is starting to feel the advantage of a more versatile instrument, to him the depth such a piano adds to his own compositions is by now exceeding the drawbacks when playing virtuous works. He only plays those to improve himself, well, and to prove himself, but his real love lies with the feeling music, and that sounds so much better on his own instrument, and Georgiana's.

But again, this is a hall filled with people eager to be entertained, not music-lovers splitting hairs, so it will probably be fine.

An hour passes quickly with a new instrument to explore, two in fact, for he loves the idea of playing a few works on the harpsichord.

'Will you try the folk-songs, Mr Fielding?' Mrs Darcy calls out as he sits down at the little beauty, and tries a few chords to get the feel of it.

A good idea, and he plays her favourites, Mrs Darcy has been his most steady advocate from the moment they first met, no matter how famous he may become he will never forget her certainty that he was going to make it to the top, and how she even managed to make him believe her. Of course he is not even close to the top, yet, but he feels he is well on his way towards independence, and at this moment taking care of himself and his beloved is more important than fame everlasting.

When he finishes he hears applause, but not from the first row, from all the way back, and he looks up to see who is clapping. A little group of people wearing aprons is standing in the entrance, they must have been drawn to the music from their jobs elsewhere in the building, it looks as if they are kitchen workers, or serving-staff. Apparently they really can hear whatever he is playing from up there, which heartens Eric more than a little.

Of course they do not comment or approach, they are at work and need to return to their duties, but the fact that his music tempted them away from their jobs is a compliment in itself.

When he is done they retreat to the room backstage and talk away half an hour. Then, a member of the staff comes along and shows the others their seats, after which Georgiana stays with Eric, and Manners and Darcy and Mrs Darcy move towards the main hall, to have a look at the audience of this night.

The seclusion of this room and the number of people expected to attend remind him of the Ball, and when Georgiana takes his left hand in hers and starts to massage it gently, the picture is complete. His feelings rise until they threaten to overwhelm him, a state he relishes because it will make his performance stronger, and he allows himself to remember that fateful night, and how he said his farewells through his music.

This time, his beloved need not keep a decent distance from him and he takes her on his lap while she continues her massage until the left hand feels totally activated, then switches to his right. After that, she straddles him and kisses him deeply, rather naughty but since there is no-one to see it, Eric indulges her and himself by returning her kiss as it is offered.

By the time they are both out of breath, and more than a little excited, someone enters the room and says, 'It's time, Mr Fielding.'

It's the man who led the others to their seats earlier, and he does not look shocked or outraged by their intimacy. He is probably used to artists using their last few minutes before a show to get a bit of heart put into them. Georgiana gets up, she doesn't even blush at having been caught in a very indecent posture, and once Eric is also standing on his two feet they kiss one last time, and walk towards the stage-entrance hand in hand.

'Go get them, Eric,' she whispers, and, still affected and excited, he lets go of her hand and steps onto the stage.

The hall is filled to the brim, and as the lights are turned up to illuminate him a hushed silence falls over the audience, who were chatting freely moments before. He walks to the front of the stage and bows, applause now breaking the silence. Making an entrance is so gratifying, though playing while the people were finding their seats was also great fun, yesterday.

Then he sits down at the piano and starts to play, and everything around him ceases to exist for the duration of his first piece. When he is done the applause dwarfs any he has heard before, and for some reason he feels an urge to acknowledge this crowd and address them.

'Thank you so much, all of you, for coming here to listen to my playing,' he says, 'I'm glad you liked it so far. First I'm going to play some more of these incredibly difficult pieces for you, to prove I'm really a very good pianist.'

A laugh murmurs through the hall, they like it.

'Then I'm going to entertain you with some folk-songs, and take you back a few decades, when the piano-forte was still a rarity and the common man played a harpsichord.

And finally I'm going to become very personal, taking all of you on a journey, with a concerto I wrote myself. Enjoy!'

Then he walks back to the piano and launches into another sonata, relishing the speed and the clarity of this instrument. As fas as he can tell the folk-songs, especially those he plays on the harpsichord, are received well, and the Bach, though very different, is appreciated no less.

Back to the piano for another hour of music, but totally different, and much more intimate.

Remembering Georgiana's touch on his hands, and her kiss, he gives his all, this instrument needs a little extra to give the emotions their due but he feels he manages well. Then it's done, and in a storm of applause he moves back to the front of the stage and bows, looking for Georgiana in the first row and finding her, her eyes sparkling and her cheeks flushed, as usual.

When the applause starts to die down a little, the lights in the hall brighten and he moves towards the back for a hug from his beloved and a drink. After that he will speak to as many of his listeners as he can, of course with such numbers he cannot manage to talk to them all, but he expects to see Mr Goodfellow at the very least, and countless strangers.

After nearly two hours of playing it is exhausting to be polite to dozens of people he has never seen before, and answer the same questions again and again. Did he really write those beautiful compositions? Are his parents really humble cow-herds? Is his engagement to Miss Darcy really definitive?

What do they think? That it will last until he is famous, and then he'll marry a girl from the audience?

Of course there are some interesting conversations as well, and doing this is very good for his reputation, he can see and hear that for himself, even if Manners hadn't convinced him before he even played his first concert as a free artist.

'You're done for, Fielding, better call it quits for the day.'

His brother-in-law is right, Eric is fagged, there are only a few people left in the hall and the owner wants to start cleaning up the venue, it's time to gather their stuff and leave. Hearing Darcy's comment, Manners looks at Eric and takes charge, as usual.

'All right people, I'm sorry, but it's closing time, besides, Mr Fielding is worn out, as you can see. We're going to take him home for some well-deserved rest. Thank you for coming, and until next time!'

It is still incredible how people obey Manners and not even feel disgruntled to do so. It's as if he hypnotises them, they leave satisfied, chatting to their friends.

Their host comes by, shakes hands with Eric and says, 'Though we're clearing this hall, you need not leave instantly, there is a complimentary bottle to enjoy together in the backstage room, so you can catch your breath before you return home.

Thank you so much, Mr Fielding, not just for your fabulous music, but also for treating the crowd with such consideration. You're my new example of what a star should be like.

I'm so glad I asked you to play here, it was a certain risk, not having heard your work myself, but Mr Goodfellow generally knows about music, I'm glad I decided to trust his taste. What did you think of the piano? Would you have preferred to have a Zumpe here, do you think this is the wrong choice of instrument for a place like this?'

Eric gives the man his honest opinion, 'I suppose you usually have light entertainment here, not opera or other deeply emotional music?'

The man nods, 'We bring entertainment to people who earn a good wage, but work hard to do so. They want to be diverted, with singing, dancing, not too difficult you know.'

'In that case, you have the perfect instrument, it's perfect for virtuous, glad music. I would only prefer a Zumpe for the most feeling compositions, like the ones I closed with.'

Showing some insight in what is his livelihood, after all, the owner comments, 'I see, now you mention it, I can imagine how that would work, this instrument emphasises the brightness, the vivacity. And here I thought those works were perfect already. You say they're even better when played on Zumpe?'

'They are, though the difference may not be obvious to everyone.'

'I wish I could hear you play them on a Zumpe, to find out if I'm one of those. I liked them tremendously, even here. I'll talk to Mr Goodfellow about organising a meeting of true depth, not in this hall though, somewhere smaller and more intimate. You know he has a circle of friends who study music from overseas? I saw you talking to him, I suppose you know him at least a little?'

That makes Eric feel hungry, and yes, envious. He wants to be part of that, he wants to learn more, know more about all music. Mr Goodfellow talked to him for a good while tonight, but he did not mention a circle of music adepts, of course Eric doesn't qualify at all to be part of such a group, he can play anything he sets his mind to, and he can compose, but as he found out talking to the scruffy little journalist, he actually knows very little about music in itself.

But he controls his feelings, he is tired, that makes everything larger than it really is, and says calmly, 'I know him, despite being a journalist he is an admirable character. He has impressed me before with his knowledge of music.'

'You're tired, Mr Fielding, I can see it. Thank you again for playing for us, I suppose Mr Manners will arrange the financial details? I'll let you go to take some rest with your new fiancée, and I hope to meet you again soon! Good night!'

And he is gone, off the stage through some inconspicuous door on the far left side. Eric follows Georgiana to the room backstage, she has done her share of the talking and socialising, as have Darcy and Mrs Darcy, and Manners. They all share a bottle of wine, an excellent vintage indeed, and as Manners leaves for a moment, taking Georgiana to the manager to deal with the financial side of the evening, Mrs Darcy shares her observations of the crowd with Eric.

'They were all totally absorbed, Mr Fielding, even through the lively bits. I do believe they loved the folk-songs as much as I do, I'm glad you incorporated them in your show.'

As they talk a little more about the public and the hall, the door on the other side of the room opens, the side that the staff uses, and an elderly lady in an apron and a cap appears, very hesitantly. When she is still mostly in the doorway, she speaks humbly.

'Mr Fielding, sir, I'm sorry to disturb you after your hard work, and if the manager finds out I bothered you here my job is on the line. But I found this girl crying her eyes out in the lobby, and said she needed to speak with you urgently, said she knew you before. I felt so sorry for her I thought I'd try. Will you please see her for a moment?'

'Louise?'

It has to be her, Eric never knew any other girls. Unaware he has spoken her name out loud, he can see a dark shape separating itself from the elderly lady, who retreats back into the main building quickly.

'Erich! Mein Herz, mein Liebling! I've missed you so much!'

She runs at him, and before he has gathered his wits about him, she is in his arms, crying on his black coat. Eric's first sensible thought is to be glad Darcy and Mrs Darcy are present, or the possibilities for misunderstandings would be infinite.

Louise is still crying stormily, and as Mrs Darcy pours a glass of wine for the girl and waters it well, Eric holds Louise for a short moment, it's not indecent, Eric has seen Darcy hold his sister countless times after all. When Louise's crying lets up a tiny bit he directs her to a chair, and Eric catches his companions' eyes and shakes his head at them, they look on the verge of leaving them by themselves, but he needs to keep them in the room. Eric has no idea how Louise came here all by herself, but he knows his former patron. Mr Zumpe is not above slyness and trickery, and Eric is not risking his future and his engagement by being alone with an unmarried girl who is in love with him.

Sitting in a chair, glass of wine and Mrs Darcy's handkerchief in her hand, Louise is still looking desperately unhappy, but no longer out of control.

Gently, Eric asks, 'How did you get here, Louise, whom are you with? Is Mr Zumpe here as well? Or your mother?'

'He would never have let me go to one of your concerts, I heard of it from Mr Wilbur, you know, who runs the showroom, and I decided I'd sneak out of the house and just attend. I needed to see you again, Eric, I love you so much, and papa said you'd been taken against your will, lured in by promises of fame and fortune by some noble. Your pupil's brother, he said.

But the maid said that wasn't true, she said papa had thrown you out, she had heard him threaten you, and tell you to pack your things and go. She said the papers wrote Mr Darcy had saved you from the streets. Why would papa throw you out, Eric, he knew I loved you, didn't he? And why would he lie to me? I'm his daughter!

I've been so unhappy, I needed to see you, and hear the truth, from the only person who can truly know, and the only man I can ever love.'

And here he thought he had earned a nice, quiet evening. Poor Louise. This was going to be hard on her, and then they'd have to get her home without Mr Zumpe catching her.

'Louise, I'm sorry, but your maid was right. Your father did throw me out, mostly because I had started to write my own music, and was determined to play it on stage, and he didn't like it at all. He hated my music, and forbade me to play it in front of anyone.'

'But Eric, it was beautiful! Your music is beautiful, I heard it just now and I couldn't believe you had made that all by yourself! How could papa not be proud of your talent, Eric? I don't understand. He loves you, and I love you, what happened to make him do that?'

She is going to get horribly hurt, and there is nothing Eric can do for her to make it better, his poor sister, poor Louise. He will not even be able to keep an eye on her, once Mr Zumpe finds out she's been to Eric's concert he'll keep her behind lock and key.

'My insisting on playing my own music and my determination to follow my ambitions were not the only reasons he asked me to leave, Louise. He wanted you and me to get married, and I told him I could never love you that way. I love you like a sister, Louise, I could never marry you, nor make you happy if I did.'

He cannot say anything more than that, for Louise has started to cry again, heartrendingly, and she pleads, 'Bitte, Erich, sage das nicht, don't tell me you cannot love me! How do you know? Sometimes love takes a little longer to grow, mama said that, she said she didn't love papa when they got married but love came later.'

Helpless against such unwillingness to accept the truth Eric tries to stay mild and friendly.

'So you knew I didn't want to marry you. Why don't you accept it, Louise? It would be so much better for both of us if you did.'

The poor girl must have something of her father's stubbornness, for she does not relent.

'I'm sure papa will let you come back now you're famous, Eric, he'll come to love your music as much as I do.'

Now Eric is running out of patience.

'Louise, did Mr Zumpe send you over to try and get me to come back?'

But it is clear that is not the case, for the girl breaks down, and cries, 'No, he didn't, if he knows I'm here he'll be so mad, but I had to know. Can't I stay with you, then, if you like it better where you are now?'

'Louise, I don't love you like that. I cannot marry you, not ever. I'm so sorry your father didn't see fit to tell you, for I certainly told him, repeatedly. I'm sorry to hurt you, but I'm in love with someone else, I'm engaged, Louise. To Miss Darcy. I've been in love with her for months, even when I still lived with all of you.'

Harsh as it is, that finally does the trick, Louise's face clearly shows she believes him now, and here she proves she is not entirely like her father for she does not turn to rage, but merely sits in total silence for as much as five minutes.

Then she whispers, 'So the maid was right in that as well. You are engaged to another, a noble girl, a beautiful, smart girl with accomplishments. I never knew the paper did write the truth so often. I hoped papa had not been lying to me. I prayed there was still hope. Now I know. I'm sorry to have bothered you, I won't bother you again. Can I still buy a ticket now and then, to see you perform?'

'Do you think your father will allow you, Louise? I think I have a right to give some tickets away for every show. If you send word I'll make sure you get in, to me you're still my sister, Louise, we had such great times together.'

'We had, Eric. Until I ruined things by falling in love with you. I'm sorry. Also for papa treating you badly, and kicking you out. Though you seem happy now. I guess I will have to make papa allow me to go, it's time I stood up for myself. The thought scares me, but he did lie to me, and not just once.

I think I'll be going now, I've taken up enough of your time. I wish you all the best, Eric, you and Miss Darcy.'

Then she addresses the others, 'Mr Darcy, Mrs Darcy, I'm glad you saved Eric from the streets, my father should not have deserted him. You look very handsome together, like the paper said.'

'You're not going back all by yourself, in the dark, are you, Miss Zumpe?'

Trust Mrs Darcy to think of a practical thing at a time like this.

'I see no other way to get home, Mrs Darcy. I snuck out, and I'm going to sneak right back in.'

'Mrs Darcy is right, Miss Zumpe, it is not safe for a girl to be out on the streets all by herself, it's dark by now. We're leaving as soon as Mr Manners and Miss Darcy have returned, we'll take you home.'

Darcy's calm authority nearly sways Louise, but she clearly means to stand up for herself starting immediately.

'Thank you for your kind offer, Mr Darcy, but I cannot take it: if a carriage pulls up before our house, my father will certainly notice my absence. I will have to go on foot.'

Not to mention the discomfort that travelling with the man she loves, and his fiancée, would give her. But before anyone can make an issue, Georgiana returns, with Manners.

It is rather embarrassing for Louise to meet Eric's fiancée, though apparently she knew of his engagement before she even came over. Still, with Manners present to smooth things over, the introduction of both ladies goes rather well. Georgiana obviously knows who this girl with red-rimmed eyes is as soon as she has heard a family name, and pities Louise more than she can feel jealous of Eric's foster-sister.

Louise is quite impressed by Georgiana, she is tall, beautiful and incredibly well-dressed. And self-assured, Eric suddenly realises, she has grown so much since their engagement! Of course Manners' taking her along to arrange Eric's business has done a great deal to make her feel useful, Manners is promoting their independence steadily and Georgiana thrives under his efforts, even more than Eric himself.

As soon as the situation has been explained to the newcomers, Manners offers to take Louise home.

'She should not walk the streets alone in the dark, she is a gentle maiden and not used to the rough folk out there. I can take her to her door without raising questions, somehow people never look at me twice, they merely assume I have a reason to be wherever I am at a given moment. Will you trust me to bring you home safely, Miss Zumpe?'

'Strangely enough, I do, Mr Manners, though I've never met you before and you look very strong. I suppose that merely affirms what you just told us. Well then, I do admit I feel safer with a companion, I was planning to use the side door, but if it's locked I'll have to go to the front and face my father straight away.'

For some reason, Manners is in a magnanimous mood, for he bows to Louise and asks, 'Do you perchance have a sturdy metal hairpin on you, Miss Zumpe?'

Her look is worth millions, as she replies with great surprise, 'I do, Mr Manners. Why do you ask, if I may inquire?'

He looks so steady and minister-like, of course the existence of his clique already belies that image, but what Manners proposes next really beats all.

'Should the door be locked, if you'll lend me a hairpin such as I described, I think I can open it for you, with no-one the wiser. Advantages of a misspent youth, my lady.'

Louise is stunned by his attitude, that's very easy to see, but also just a tiny bit interested. If Eric didn't know for a fact she'll be safe with him, he would have distrusted the charmer with what he regards as his sister. But since his energy is fading rapidly he is glad to know Louise to be in excellent hands, she'll most probably even get away with sneaking out of the house to go to a concert.

'Ladies, gentlemen, I will return to fetch you with my carriage in, half an hour?'

This last with a look at Louise, who offers, 'It's not even ten minutes to my home. I know the way.'

Of course she does, she lives there.

'Be brave, my dear sister.' He gives her one last, well-meant hug.

'I will, Eric, I will make you proud. Thank you for being so kind to me, and I hope you become really famous.'

As Manners leads the girl towards the artists' entrance, Eric sits down, now truly exhausted, and Georgiana drags one of the chairs to his side and sits down right next to him, too bad she cannot straddle him in the presence of her brother and sister as she did before the concert. But it's very pleasant to have her sitting by his side, holding his hand, giving him as much love as she is allowed to, his beloved, his smart, ambitious girl, who catches his eye, then puts her other hand in the pocket of her dress, and shows him a wad of cash, just a hint of it.

His payment for the concert! Manners gave it to Georgiana for safe-keeping, it looks like a lot of money. Of course he knows exactly how much it is, but still he is impressed, such pay for just two hours of work. And Georgiana isn't at all afraid to keep it for him, that is obvious.

Before long, Manners returns to tell them their carriage is ready, and that Miss Zumpe has been safely returned to her parental abode and helped to re-enter it with utter stealth and as such, unnoticed. He really did it, break into Mr Zumpe's place to help Louise get away with sneaking out to visit a concert!

'So you found the door locked, Mr Manners?' Mrs Darcy asks, obviously diverted.

'What will you say if I tell you we did indeed, Mrs Darcy? Will you be outraged? I hope not, for Miss Zumpe was really quite scared to be taken to task for her boldness to meet Mr Fielding. Though I guess she will develop some backbone yet, she said she would work on that, she was rather angry to have been lied to by her father. I delivered her to her bedroom, and it did seem undisturbed, so I guess she will get away with it.'

Of course there is no way to find out whether that's true.


	71. Chapter 71

Chapter 81

The next day, Elizabeth reads in the newspaper that her arrangement with the lady of the little boutique has worked, her dress is praised excessively once again, and Georgiana's ensemble has caught the attention as well. It's as if they have never lived quietly, as if their evenings have always been spent in glittering drawing-rooms and halls stuffed full of people.

Fortunately Fitzwilliam and herself have plenty of time left to spend on each other, riding through town and a few favourite parks, sitting in the drawing-room listening to music or reading, and of course they spend all their nights together, still very eager to be intimate in the evenings and the mornings.

As Elizabeth is contemplating all this, and Fitzwilliam gazes into her eyes as if trying to read her very thoughts, Mr Fielding catches all their attention with a question that has obviously been plaguing him for some time.

'I'm thinking of asking Mr Goodfellow to include me in his group of music adepts. I have little knowledge to contribute, but I can demonstrate the pieces they study, that's valuable isn't it? I guess what I really want to know is, would it be very foolish to try to befriend a reporter?'

As Elizabeth melts, he is such a sweet and modest man, how can he imagine they wouldn't be thrilled to have a real genius in their midst, Mr Manners must be thinking exactly the same thing, and their friend doesn't hesitate to speak his thoughts for all to hear.

'I'm sure they'll love to have you, Fielding. And no, I don't think it's a good idea to befriend a reporter, but sometimes a man has to do unwise things. Look at Darcy here, he did a supremely foolish thing and it has made him the happiest man alive.'

It's so gratifying to see Fitzwilliam beaming, he really does look intensely happy.

'Manners is right, Fielding, it's not very sensible to let a reporter into one's heart, especially not if you're about to become part of a well-known family and are well on your way to gaining national fame. But I think you really want this connection, you want to learn what they know, and you do have more to offer them than you think. How could they ever spurn the chance to get to study a real-life musical genius?'

Modest as he is, Mr Fielding does not gainsay any of the praise, he is a genius and he knows it, having been accepted in their midst has given him a certain self-confidence that is a joy to behold.

'I think I'll have to take my chances then. Of their refusing me, and of Mr Goodfellow disappointing me by using our friendship to gain material for an exposé.'

Now Manners laughs out loud.

'An exposé, Fielding, that is priceless! Do you think Mr Goodfellow is aspiring to become a front page reporter?'

'Naw, I just wanted to show off a new term I learned, show you all I'm a lot less naïve. Next time I see Mr Goodfellow I'll ask him to be admitted to his little group. I need to know what they know, I need to find my own style, not stick to Mr Zumpe's.'

'You have not been Mr Zumpe's creation for a long time, Mr Fielding,' Elizabeth offers her opinion, 'I'm sure he would not appreciate your playing folk-songs. But I do agree your program is a bit put together, it could use a solid base in musical theory, and Mr Goodfellow is not merely pretending to know music to seem more interesting, I think he is the true thing.

You know he admires you, don't you, Mr Fielding? I watched him while you were playing for him in the drawing-room, and again when you talked to him yesterday. I think he will welcome you.'

'I'm at the very least starting to believe it, you've been right from the start about practically everything you told me, Mrs Darcy, and the owner of yesterday's theatre confirmed Mr Goodfellow likes my music. Thank you for your support, Mrs Darcy, it has meant so much to me.'

And a friendship does indeed spring up between scruffy Mr Goodfellow and handsome Mr Fielding, the very next time they meet at a concert. Of course he is very welcome to join the group, Mr Goodfellow seems thrilled at Mr Fielding's request to be considered for involvement, and Elizabeth admires Georgiana for letting go of her beloved for a few hours, though she has such a thirst for knowledge of music herself.

When Elizabeth inquires with her sister how she feels about the situation, the first time Mr Fielding is off to meet his new friends, Georgiana admits frankly that she does feel excluded.

'But I knew before we came to an agreement that his career would take him away from me on a regular basis. I cannot take this away from Eric, he has such a need to learn more about music, and though I have the same wish it's not as pressing, and this is such a bastion of men I would probably feel very uncomfortable among them. No, let him spend time with some like-minded men, and I'll visit Kitty and Jane, or go shopping with you. If Fitzwilliam can do without you for a few hours.

If not, I can always entertain myself, I used to be very good at that not so very long ago, I'm sure I still can. It's healthy to spend some time away from each other.

Not that I think you and my brother shouldn't be together all the time, I think that's very cute. But I knew my life with Eric wouldn't be like that.'

And she truly doesn't seem to mind spending some hours by herself the next two weeks.

'You know he tells me everything they discuss, and they've asked him to prepare several sheets of music, which of course we are doing together. I don't miss out on that much, Elizabeth, just five queer men totally fixated on music, who according to Eric would freak out if they had to address anything vaguely feminine, talking about stuffy old pages of music and less stuffy new pages. Apparently those are either in German or in French, I've already practised my French on them, and Eric is helping me to pick up some German. Did you know he's very good at it? His patron was originally from Germany, they often talked German during dinner. He didn't tell Mr Manners, thought he'd surprise Simon as soon as he has learned enough to talk a little.'

Two more weeks pass by, and going out at night is becoming a habit. Simon and Fanny thrive, Fanny seems to have her own secret places where she picks up new ways of doing Elizabeth's hair, or how to give Georgiana's pale natural colouring a healthy blush.

'I've had my first offer to serve as a lady's maid, Mrs Darcy,' she says one evening, as she is torturing Elizabeth's long straight hair into loose curls.

'It was as I stepped by Miss Filliger's shop to pick up that new hat Simon wanted you to wear with the cream gown. Apparently some lady's maid was choosing a new frock, or pretending to choose a frock, and she said, 'Hello! I've heard you are Mrs Darcy's maid, and rumour has it you're the mind behind the young lady's incredible outfits. My mistress would be very interested to offer you a position in her own household.'

'And do you want to work for a different lady, Fanny? You could be a lady's maid for real, not just on feast days.'

Fanny smiles and replies, 'She mentioned a very tempting salary, but of course she doesn't know it's Miss Filliger and Simon who have made your reputation in fashion. Miss Filliger didn't seem annoyed to hear me get the credit, though, she merely winked at me. I do get the impression she prefers to stay behind the scenes, ma'am.

And anyway, with Bob and me due to be married I can't work for another family, ma'am, what if they lived on the other end of the country in summer? We'd be lonely all the time.

No, Bob likes working for the master, and I like working for you and Miss Darcy, and who knows how famous Mr Fielding may yet become? Maybe you'll all have to go to Vienna, and the master will want Bob to drive, and you'll need me to come along as well, for they say the ladies on the continent are even more fashionable than here. Which is why I'm working hard to learn more about dresses, and hairstyles and accessories.

There, ma'am, your hair is done, do you like it curled?'

Elizabeth smiles, and looks at her own reflection in the mirror. It's a miracle Fitzwilliam can still recognise her as his beloved, for this is not the Miss Elizabeth Bennet he fell in love with. This is a sophisticated London lady, with plenty of funds and a very able personal maid.

'It's incredible, Fanny, I can't even recognise myself. I suppose that means I'll be in the papers again tomorrow.'

She cannot stop a heartfelt sigh, never did she realise that being Mrs Darcy would mean getting turned into a totally different person each night. But of course they both have a choice, they can let Mrs Annesley chaperone Georgiana some nights, and even Jane and aunt Gardiner would be willing to accompany her now and then. It's a little less than two more months, and then they'll be back at Pemberley. And by the time the entertainments start again in town, Georgiana and Mr Fielding will most likely be married, the constant attention of throngs of ladies is starting to get on both their nerves, and they have asked Fitzwilliam to consider letting them marry by special licence, as soon as Georgiana is seventeen.

Elizabeth cannot blame them, though she doubts those ladies will be deterred from chasing Mr Fielding once he is well and truly married. Most likely they'll make things hard on the married couple.

'Do you mind very much, Mrs Darcy?' dear Fanny asks, a bit worried.

'One gets used to it, Fanny, but I cannot say I enjoy it. What did you say to the maid who offered you a job? You never finished your story.'

'I didn't, did I, ma'am? Well, I couldn't tell her I wasn't the genius she thought I was, of course. So I merely thanked her for her kind offer, admired the frock she was trying on, and went about my business. Do you think she'll buy it, thinking I am some fashion-expert? It did look good on her, Miss Filliger has beautiful dresses even in that maid's size, and they're very affordable if one wears them a whole season.'

'I'm glad you're staying with us, Fanny, and I think you could dress a lady by now, no problem. You have learned a lot from Simon and Miss Filliger, and you had a talent for it from the start. I'm sure that maid will not regret buying the dress, if you thought it looked good on her.

Just look at me, Fanny, you've had as much influence on my current toilette as Simon has had. You came up with the hairstyle yourself, and it was your idea to use that necklace again, only made to look old. You're not just doing what Simon says, you're creating a look all your own. And another one for Miss Darcy.'

'Why thank you, ma'am, I never thought of it that way, but I suppose you're right. Still, I'd rather stay, and meet Peter and his missus, and Mrs Reynolds, and see Pemberley and the country. Even if Mr Fielding never does get invited to Vienna.'

Elizabeth suddenly wonders what will happen if Fanny finds herself with child soon after marriage. Will she be able to keep working? And who will care for the baby then? Peter's missus has her parents, but Fanny's parents live in London. Of course Bob can stay in London, but he'll be a mere stable-boy instead of Mr Darcy's trusted driver.

And that thought of course leads to others, what if Georgiana conceives right after her marriage? Unless she takes a wet-nurse, that will mean the end of attending Mr Fielding's concerts. And she's not even seventeen years old.

To avoid imagining herself with child, she directs her thoughts to Jane, who is so perfectly suited to care for a cute little baby, and to Lydia, who is not, but already with child. How is she doing? Jane regularly writes to her youngest sister, as does Elizabeth herself, but Lydia's letters are always gay and filled with stories of her friends, there is no mention of her dearest wish, it is as if that conversation on Jane's wedding never happened.

And Elizabeth's wilful mind insists on considering the possibility of getting with child herself. What will it do to their marriage? Will Fitzwilliam leave her behind when he goes out to hunt? Will he still be able to love her when she gets bigger, and possibly weepy? She knows he loves her mental strength, though he hasn't had a single one of those humble episodes since their return to London, maybe getting faith in their marriage and processing his bad memories of rejection have finally settled his feelings.

She knows there is no use in going over these thoughts again and again, but until Fanny declares her job done for this evening, they keep distracting her, without bringing an answer, of course.

After that night's concert, they find the Colonel back at the house. He has been to his father's estate to reason with him to get Miss Anne to London for some amusement, and he has been successful!

'My father will pick her up from Rosings and he will make sure aunt Catherine stays behind. He will try to lose Mrs Jenkinson as well, apparently she has a family who must be due a visit, in a town close to Hunsford, he found that out to try and get his niece along by herself. I think he'll manage, aunt Catherine never could stand up to him, the only person in the world able to browbeat Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

My father will accompany cousin Anne to his London home, where I will take her under my wing. He wants to attend a concert, too, Georgiana, Mr Fielding. He's very curious about his niece's genius fiancée. They have papers too, you know, he's read every bit of news concerning the family, and is also very pleased with Mrs Darcy, and eager to get to know you better.

'She has done the family proud, my son,' he said to me, 'I wonder how Catherine is taking it. Can't wait to rub it in.'

We'll certainly hear the results of that as soon as he arrives, which will be Thursday. Actually, I expect him tomorrow, but you're all invited to come to dinner on Thursday, Mr Manners, too, since he offered to introduce cousin Anne to a few girls her age.

Would it be possible to bring Mrs Annesley? My father asked specifically to see her. I know it's a bit singular to bring her since she's no longer Georgiana's personal lady, but he's been quite lonely since mother died, and I thought it wouldn't be too much of a problem.'

Darcy just cannot believe it, another middle-aged man who has a thing for Mrs Annesley! His uncle is a widower, and quite attractive for his age, but that doesn't make Mrs Annesley less married. But of course those men only want to talk to her, and she certainly has plenty of interesting things to say. Well, as far as Darcy is concerned, it's her choice, she may want to go home to her husband, or she may be eager to have a night's entertainment.

'I'll ask her, if she consents to go we'll take her with us. Doesn't he have plans to marry again? Maybe Manners knows some widows?'

With a perfectly straight face, Manners observes, 'Actually, I do. And frankly, they are a cut above the younger generation. I'll see what I can do, when is he planning to attend a concert?'

'Somewhere next week, he will be staying for at least three weeks.'

'Mr Goodfellow is planning a very serious lecture on Renaissance music Wednesday week,' Fielding offers, 'and since he has asked me to illuminate his recital with music from that period, I have the right to invite some people over. Even ladies, though my new friends are generally rather over-sensitive to their presence. I suppose they find women disconcerting, though I guess that merely means they haven't met any they dared speak to, yet.

Still, it may be an excellent opportunity to invite a few sedate widows of Manners' acquaintance, as well as your father, Colonel.'

'Though I do not feel a particular need to set my father up with a new woman, I do think he would enjoy a lecture on old music, Mr Fielding. Thank you for the offer, I will ask him.'

His cousin seems much better, maybe the drinking with his fellow-officers made him extra sensitive. At least he will be too busy showing cousin Anne around town to do too much brooding.

Thinking of the newspaper today, Darcy worries for Fitzwilliam, there is war brewing, and his leave may be cut short any time. Of course his cousin's rank is high enough to keep him out of acute danger, but going to war is always dangerous, and the idea of Fitzwilliam on a battlefield makes his heart grow cold.

Despite his intense dislike of George Wickham, Darcy also spends a few thoughts on him, as a mere ensign Darcy's brother-in-law is in much more danger, and if he gets his way and is allowed in the Rifles, he will be at the front of the action, looking for danger, provoking the enemy to take shots at him and his men. It is rather a brave thing to do, but somehow Darcy doesn't doubt Wickham will measure up to the task. The way Fanny described him as he came to her rescue, Wickham may be lacking morals, he is not a coward.

But Darcy is not afraid to lose Wickham, not at all, the guy's fate leaves him undisturbed, whereas he fervently hopes his cousin will be spared.

Or preferably, that war can be averted altogether, what can be gained by facing the French on their own soil?

Thinking of Wickham, he wonders how his featherheaded sister-in-law is doing, in eager expectation of her little George. Better ask Elizabeth, she corresponds with her sister regularly, she will know how that whole affair turned out.

And what if she gets with child herself? Will she still be his strong willed beloved? Of course she will, and if she does get needy for a few months he'll enjoy those, she'll cling to him and depend on him, that was quite a nice feeling. But most likely she'll just continue as she was, except they'll have to find her a good doctor and a midwife. For women die in childbirth, he remembers his mother, weak with her frail constitution and a long delivery, unable to nurse the baby by herself, having to cope with a wet-nurse as well as a bossy personal maid.

The very idea of some woman trying to boss Elizabeth, he'd like to see anyone try. And Darcy was a boy then, still depending on his parents for guidance. He'd never allow such behaviour in his own house anymore, not even in the servants' quarters. No, Elizabeth will be fine, he'll be there for her, right there at her side all the time, he will not leave her to amuse himself in town.

That night in bed, he asks about Lydia.

'Imagine you should ask that today! I just wondered how she was doing, Jane and I both wrote but Lydia's replies never mentioned anything as serious as a pregnancy, just parties and friends. Do you think I should write her again and bluntly ask how she's doing with regards to that? I never did ask, I merely hoped she'd volunteer some information.'

'If you're curious, you should certainly ask. I just wondered, because it seems war with France is getting more likely every day. If the worst happens, Wickham will be sent overseas. As will Fitzwilliam.'

'Oh no, not the Colonel, that poor man!'

'He's a lot tougher than you might think, my love, you've only seen him at his most vulnerable, but I assure you, he is very solid. He leads a significant number of troops, you know, one does not reach that prominence without being very capable.'

'I suppose so, he's been in the army for years, he must have seen action before. But still I will worry if he gets sent overseas.'

'We all will, dear Elizabeth. My love, I couldn't help thinking, it's been a while since we talked of having children, have you had any signs yet?'

She clutches him in a tight grip.

'I have not, my love, and I'm glad. I'm not like Lydia, I don't want to lose my freedom yet. I cannot bear the thought of sitting at home all by myself, day after day, night after night.'

'Elizabeth!'

He's never raised his voice at her before, she must be stumped. Well, that cannot be helped, he's not like his father, and she ought to know that!

'I'm not going to leave you alone! How can you think such a thing?'

And much softer, 'I love you, you know that, don't you? I'm always with you, there is nowhere else I want to be but by your side, why would anything change?'

A muffled, 'I don't know, love, I suppose I didn't think,' proves they should talk about these things more often, and Darcy feels he has to soothe his beloved.

'Will you not trust me, Elizabeth? And remember what your father said, love, your mother never suffered much discomfort, you'll just do everything as you're used to, I'm sure you'll be able to ramble right up until the last. You're strong, and fearless, and I'll be with you every step of the way.

But let's make the most of this summer anyway, ride and hunt, do everything we'll have less time for. We're in this together, my love, please don't keep secrets from me, tell me as soon as you feel a change.'

His use of 'we' where the loss of freedom is concerned seems to have mollified her somewhat, and soon her warm, soft body relaxes against his own once more. But she does not lie still against him, for her hands seek out sensitive spots to stroke, and she is nuzzling his skin with heat.

To initiate loving after practically telling him she's afraid to get with child is such a brave thing to do. Or is it merely proof that human nature is bent towards loving, to ensure its procreation? Elizabeth is not done with her surprises, still stroking him she asks with distinct humour, 'I've not seen your humble side for quite some time, my love, is it gone forever?'

Such an observation at such a time, and her cheeky tone! It gives him a little thrill of pride and love, and he kisses her intimately, before he even considers her question. She has been such a steady force in the upheaval of the last weeks, the sudden exposure to society, having their, and Georgiana's, every move watched, their apparel judged, their bond, their past and their present analysed. None of it seems to have bothered his beloved, she has risen to the challenge with incredible courage.

But he can see why she wonders that the added pressure on their bond hasn't triggered a release in her beloved.

And why hasn't he had one of these humble spells? Were they just a phase, getting to grips with the added responsibility of a wife? He never used to have them before he got married, that is certain.

But he never had someone to rely on before he got married, so who'd he have shown his vulnerable side to? A cheap woman, like Mrs Younge? Do other men have those spells, and unleash them on hired women? Not all powerful men have a strong partner like Elizabeth to fall back on.

He searches his own soul, and doesn't feel the slightest need to fall at Elizabeth's feet, though he remembers the feeling of surrender well, and the memory doesn't put him out but pleases him, so safe, so sheltered.

He decides to reply with a joke; though Elizabeth brought the question up, Darcy suspects she doesn't like him behaving like that at all, doesn't really know how to handle his humble self, though she treats him exactly as he wishes to be treated, it seems to be some instinct rather than conscious thought. And there surely is one large difference in their lives compared to a month or two ago, when Darcy had his strongest episode so far.

For frankly, he doesn't think they're gone altogether, but he's not going to tell Elizabeth that, it would only spoil their moment together. Much better to keep this loose atmosphere, have a little fun together after discussing a subject his beloved seems to fear more than an entire row of reporters analysing her latest fashion accoutrement.

'Do you suppose it's Manners taking charge all the time? It almost seems as if he has taken over my role of pater familias, leaving me free of care and responsibility.'

She is shaking with laughter, and he gets that kiss right back, with all the love she feels for him.

'You're the best, my love,' she breathes, 'I hope Mr Manners will stay with us for a long time, then, for your humble self makes me a little uncertain. He is so cute I want to cuddle him and whisper sweet nonsense in his ear, but that is not what he wants from me at all! I feel like such a hag being strict to the sweetest and cutest side of you.

You looked so naughty that time at the dinner table with Mr Hurst, and I knew I had to be severe on you when I wanted nothing more than to join you in poking fun at the lot of them. I suppose that's why I got mad afterwards, I resented having to be the sensible one guarding your reputation. But if he ever does come back, Fitzwilliam, I'll be ready for him. More playful, and still as forceful as he might wish, don't hold him back to spare me.'

'Whatever reputation my father left me with that I haven't thrown into the wind by marrying you, my love, Georgiana has now polluted beyond repair by marrying a cow-herd's son. Don't worry about my reputation, love, I think I'd rather be known as slightly mad than an irrefutable prig, as I suppose I was thought of.

You make me very happy, Elizabeth, I'm so glad my feeling, intuitive side fought my sensible, proud side over you and won, despite having been suppressed for years.'

Pretty soon, talk loses all its meaning, and they take their time showing their love for one another by working each other up to a frenzy of desire with every trick in their ever expanding glossary of loving. When the climax comes, he is bit afraid to let it go, what if this is the time? But she's having none of that, an impatient foot pulls him back in, and soon they both shudder in release, and lie in a close embrace until sleep takes them.


	72. Chapter 72

Chapter 82

Practising together, watching Eric study new pieces methodically, having him teach her at least an hour each day, and playing just for fun, Georgiana thinks it's a miracle they don't wear out their pianos spending five hours or more a day playing.

With Fitzwilliam's permission, Eric has changed the decor of his apartment radically, removing most of the fabric from the interior until it is as bare as his room in Mr Zumpe's house. This has improved the sound of his piano manifold, and they practise most of the romantic pieces on his large piano.

Still Elizabeth need not complain, there is plenty of playing going on in the drawing-room to entertain her, and of course Eric insists his future sister-in-law practise her skills as well. Even to Elizabeth Eric is quite the taskmaster, it must be Elizabeth's easy-going attitude that provokes him. But still he calls her Mrs Darcy with scrupulous politeness, and shows her his respect without fail. Somehow his stiff politeness seems to bother Elizabeth more than being politely scolded for tiring of an exercise after ten minutes of practice.

'You'd better give up on me as a hopeless case, Mr Fielding,' she observes happily, 'I guess I'm just not the type to strive for perfection. We cannot all be concert-pianists, now can we?'

But despite her cheerful attitude, Georgiana can see Elizabeth is not happy about something, and she is going to ask what it is as soon as Eric has left the room.

He is studying an almost illegible sheet of Renaissance music for Mr Goodfellow's lecture, and since he is in a bit of a hurry to have it ready for the presentation next week, he has decided he will do the translation to piano by himself, and share the results with the others afterwards.

Watching him work at full concentration is no fun at all, so he retreats to his own apartment for some peace and quiet, and Georgiana sits in the drawing-room with Elizabeth, who is trying to perfect a bar of music and finding it very hard to keep working on it. It's very obvious she doesn't care for perfection, it's not in her nature to practise to the exclusion of everything else.

'Do I have to talk to Eric, Elizabeth, tell him to let up on you, a lot? Maybe altogether? He's riding you as hard as he rides me, and it seems to me you find no pleasure in it. You don't seem happy at all playing the piano when he's around.'

Her sister is surprised to be thus addressed, that is clear, and she proves Georgiana had the rights of it by replying, 'I appreciate his efforts to help me become a better player, but it's hard for me to care about those paltry details as I see both of you do. I guess I'm just not meant to be world-class, which doesn't bother me at all.

It's not even his persistence that bothers me, I quite like his dedication, and let's be honest, which mediocre piano-player can boast lessons from an absolute master? I just feel excluded in some way. The men are so familiar with each other, and with you, but your fiancée insists on always calling me Mrs Darcy in a certain tone, which makes me feel ages old, when in fact I'm a few years younger than he is. Same with Mr Manners, except he is Fitzwilliam's age, and he is as formal to you, but still. Why can't they treat me like Bingley does and just call me Lizzy? Unless Fitzwilliam objects, of course, then plain Elizabeth will do just fine.'

Dear Elizabeth, she still manages to put some humour in what obviously is quite a serious matter to her. Apparently she doesn't even realise how much respect she inspires in people despite her tender age. Even Georgiana constantly forgets her sister is just four years her senior, it seems more as if she's Fitzwilliam's age, she is so steady and so self-assured.

'I'm glad you don't mind Eric's insistence on perfection, Elizabeth, even if you cannot give him what he demands. I'm sure he'll have less trouble being more informal towards you than being less exacting as a teacher. I thought it was his growing love for me that caused him to let up on me, but I suppose it was my gaining proficiency.

Why don't you just tell him how you feel, my dear sister, I'm quite certain he only means to show you his respect, he's not trying to keep a certain distance, I'm sure he likes you as much as he likes Fitzwilliam.'

'I suppose I'll have to. I'm afraid he'll misunderstand, though. I know it's unheard of to be as informal as I would like to be, and I'm always afraid to be considered improper, I suppose that's because of my being an upstart to your family.'

Rubbish! Even Miss Colman and Lady Harrington, who attend to Queen Charlotte herself, told Mr Manners how impressed they were by Mrs Darcy's presence and intelligent conversation. But of course that's not what Elizabeth wants to hear right now.

'Do you want me to talk to Eric then, Elizabeth? I'll also give him a hint about the difference in ambition between one person and the next. I'm sure he doesn't enjoy being so demanding towards you, he just doesn't know how to let up. With Mr Manners, you're on your own. Maybe Fitzwilliam can help. And if you do get Mr Manners to be more familiar to you, please ask him to include me, for I feel the same as you do. Did you know they call each other by their first name in private, Eric and him? Being called Miss Darcy makes me feel ages old already, and I'm sure it'll get worse once I'm a missus myself.'

As it turns out, no-one has to interfere for the other, for when they are all gathered around the table for lunch Eric offers, 'I've been feeling very guilty all morning, Mrs Darcy, about my behaviour to you. I know you are not ambitious at all, and still I scolded you as if you were my pupil. You didn't even ask for lessons, I practically forced you to play certain pieces and expected you to obey me. That is not right, you have been so supportive of me from the first, I should repay you with respect and kindness, not treat you like an unwilling child. I'm very sorry, I hope you can forgive me.'

'You know how to make Elizabeth obey anyone? I admire you!'

Fitzwilliam makes a joke out of it, of course, he has really loosened up a lot, and it does make the whole situation less serious, it's almost as if Eric is afraid of Elizabeth's reaction. Undeservedly, for she is really very fond of him, which her reply proves.

'I could never be angry with you, Mr Fielding, I like you too much. And Fitzwilliam is right, you did not force me to do anything. I want to learn, truly, and I'm very proud you're spending so much time on me.

But I just cannot seem to take things seriously enough, I can hear the difference between how I do it and how it should be done, but I cannot spend more than half an hour on seriously trying to improve. It's just not that important to me. I suppose that is the difference between the two of you and me.'

'I'm glad to hear you say that, ma'am, but I'm sure you were rather put out this morning, I saw you weren't happy at all, I don't believe that was nothing.'

Georgiana cannot help but admire her beloved for pushing again, and in the process of excusing himself for not letting up. Dear Elizabeth uses this golden opportunity to let all the gentlemen know what is in fact bothering her.

'You saw right, Mr Fielding, I was a bit unhappy, but not exactly with your being a taskmaster. I like you very much, and the prospect of having you as my brother delights me to no end. But every time you call me Mrs Darcy I feel like a stranger, and an old dame. Can't we be as informal as you gentlemen are? I don't want to be a missus to the people I love, I'm just twenty!

And that goes for you, too, Mr Manners, even though we're not going to be related.'

That causes a few moments of silence, broken, of course, by Mr Manners, who is never lost for words. Not for very long anyway.

'Well, you're right of course, you are just twenty. I knew, but I can't say it ever really sank in, I never truly realised how young you are. You're so mature, and stable, not like a girl at all. I hope you don't find that offensive, I'm not suggesting you're old or anything. I certainly don't object to being familiar with you, as long as your husband doesn't.'

After a look at Fitzwilliam, Mr Manners corrects himself quickly, 'Ah, oh, I see. That's what he meant just now, of course. Well, in that case, Elizabeth, I'd be very pleased if you would call me Frederick. Anywhere, even if we were to find ourselves at Court.'

Poor Eric, he's not that self-assured, he has followed the whole conversation a bit wild-eyed, then observes, 'Of course you're welcome to call me by my Christian name, Mrs Darcy, but I'll have to practise being familiar with you. You're not a girl to me even though I know theoretically that you are indeed a few years my junior. But I respect you way too much to just call you by your first name, though you may think differently, the way I tried to get you to improve your playing. You really didn't mind that?'

Now Elizabeth laughs heartily, and shows she's still very young by replying saucily.

'If I did, I would have just told you, Eric. Fitzwilliam is right, I have a real problem with authority. Which is why I'm very glad to have married him, he doesn't care, he actually seems rather proud of my impertinence.'

'Well, I'm certainly glad to hear you're not angry. And I really will try to be less formal, just please don't correct me as I did you, or I'll be certain to fail.'

'I will help, my love,' Georgiana promises him, 'and I don't want to be the only miss or missus in our little group, so please be kind to me, too. I'm the youngest after all.'

Mr Manners promises, and Georgiana leaves the lunch table a lot happier, as does Elizabeth.

The next evening, they leave for their dinner at Lord Compton's, and Elizabeth cannot but admit she is a little anxious, which is remarkable since she wasn't at all at the ladies' charity, and other events attended by the highest ranks. The only time she ever saw Fitzwilliam's uncle was at their wedding, and she realises she was still more than a little countrified at that time. No matter how quick her mind and how certain she was of Fitzwilliam's affection for her, she still felt a bit overblown by his connections.

But why feel this way now? She has gained so much experience and so many new acquaintances, and has been tested and probed by the fashionable set of London. Why care what one Earl thinks of her, even if he is Fitzwilliam's uncle?

From their conversations the last days, and the letter he sent Fitzwilliam in reply to the latter's announcement of Georgiana's engagement, Elizabeth is inclined to think him quite a character, rich, independent and very fond of having his own way. That's it, she has no idea what to expect; she hopes to find Lord Compton sympathetic, maybe to compensate for his sister's obnoxious personality, but she fears to find him the opposite.

Fitzwilliam seems to respect his uncle very much, Elizabeth can think of no-one else whom she can say that of. Also the Colonel, his own son, talks fondly of his father, but with the same awed respect. Every reason to believe therefore that Lord Compton is as formidable a character as his sister, and possibly more worthy of respect. But will he be likeable?

Mrs Annesley has agreed to join their party, she seems to know the Earl better than one would expect from their difference in rank and the short time Mrs Annesley has been with the family. Elizabeth can hardly wait to see the two of them together, maybe she will get a clue as to why the sedate lady can rejoice in such attention from elderly gentlemen. Does she like the dignified Earl better, or sharp but countrified Mr Bennet? Watching their calm, sophisticated housekeeper surreptitiously, Elizabeth almost forgets to be anxious.

The three of them, Fitzwilliam, herself and Mrs Annesley, are sharing Elizabeth's wedding-carriage, while the other three are using Frederick's. The latter's large, ornate one would easily have accommodated them all, but Fitzwilliam insisted on using their own.

'The roads are fine, Bob is bored, and the horses are getting lazy. A nice long trip across town will be just the thing. Georgiana will be fine with the two gentlemen, Manners is an excellent chaperone for twenty minutes.'

In half an hour they have crossed town, Bob showing off his skill by guiding the carriage across narrow bridges and through tiny alleys. Elizabeth suspects he is taking a detour just to enjoy himself, Frederick's carriage cannot possibly use this route, it's way too large and no sane driver would try to navigate these roads anyway. Fitzwilliam merely looks out of the window once or twice and observes, 'I told Bob to brush up his driving skills, and he looked really happy, he's wasted in the city. I can't wait to have my thoroughbreds back, and ride my hunters through woods and across fields. I'm ready for the country, Elizabeth.'

So is she. But by now they have arrived at a magnificent house in an even grander neighbourhood than their own, and Bob halts before a marble facade at least twice the size of their own entrance.

They are received very politely by a liveried butler, who tells them the rest of the party has already arrived and is waiting in the drawing-room with the young master. Lord Compton will make his entrance at the table.

The hall is even larger than their own, and much more ornate, with hardwood inlays in the panelled walls, lavish gold decorations on the priceless papering above the panels, painted landscapes adorning the walls, and military ornaments in one or two glass cases with short hardwood legs. Elizabeth can see an old pistol and a shiny sabre as they walk by, there is no time to study them but she does wonder why the Colonel's father has such humble keepsakes in such a rich interior. She would have expected priceless China or burnished silver, not aged bronze and cold iron.

Through this lavish hall they are shown into a similar drawing-room, large, with expensive silk Persian rugs on a wooden mosaic floor, glossy hardwood furniture with stiff horsehair seats, velvet draperies in intricate pleats. Not a gentleman's interior but a lady's, most likely this room has not been changed since the Colonel's mother died some seven years ago. Frankly, this is the style Fitzwilliam abhorred so strongly that he preferred to have Kitty and Georgiana change the single room in his house still displaying it into a garish mixture of ancient styles. And donated the furniture to charity instead of having it taken to the attic.

'This house is a relic to my mother's memory,' the Colonel says as he greets them, Elizabeth first of all. 'He never changed any of it, of course he doesn't use it very often, my father prefers to stay in the country all year. It's really remarkable he decided to visit for as much as three weeks. I'd feel insulted not to be trusted with my niece if I didn't suspect him of having an interest to acquaint himself better with the woman who caused such a stir in his family.

Of course his house in the country is much more modern than this, my brother and his wife have made extensive improvements, they couldn't bear to live in a shrine.'

Does the Colonel suggest his father plans to stay in London to get acquainted with her? Did he tell his father about his affection for his cousin's wife? That cannot be true, can it? There is nothing Elizabeth can do but wait and see what happens. This evening at least she will be safe from too much attention from the Earl's quarter, for Mrs Annesley is here on his special request, he will not neglect her.

'Your staff must take excellent care of the house, Colonel, it looks old-fashioned, but not worn. And the curiosities in the hall, I'd expect your mother to have had China, silver, expensive things.'

The Colonel smiles in a very worrying way, he's still showing his feelings so openly!

'My mother wanted to show me she loved me, too, despite my being the younger son. So she always took an interest in my occupation, and carefully preserved some of the things I no longer needed. She was lovely. I don't wonder my father refuses to have this house redecorated; though he's not pining for her, he enjoys life, you'll see.'

Before the situation becomes uncomfortable, the Colonel moves on to the others, greeting Mrs Annesley as heartily as Elizabeth.

'You've come, Mrs Annesley, thank you so much! My father begged to have someone his own age present, for some sensible conversation, he said. He remembered talking to you very pleasantly when you accompanied Georgiana on a visit. Please take a seat, he will join us with my cousin, she was a bit reticent to meet so many new faces.'

And a familiar one, Elizabeth silently adds, one she hasn't seen after the news of his marriage sent her mother into a rage. Elizabeth cannot help thinking the sight of Mrs Darcy must be unwelcome to Miss De Bourgh, though maybe not as much so as to Miss Bingley when they first arrived at Netherfield for Jane and Bingley's wedding. Well, there is nothing she can do about it, and it will be interesting to see whether Miss De Bourgh does indeed show signs of disappointment.

Soon, they are back to their usual comfortable intimacy, only Eric seems a little out of sorts. Is he feeling out of place here? Elizabeth can imagine that he does, she isn't entirely comfortable herself, she feels very much an upstart in this rich interior, and still a bit afraid Lord Compton may not like her and show it a bit too clearly.

Though Eric may feel the same, it's not what he voices to their host in his usual polite fashion.

'Colonel, doesn't your father own a piano-forte?'

Of course, a piano. She should have known, Eric has never shown any discomfort at being surrounded by riches, the only thing that can shake his inner calm is the lack of an instrument.

'Indeed he doesn't,' the Colonel replies readily, 'my mother played the harp, I have no sisters, and my sister-in-law was never taught to play an instrument. Of course we rarely stay here, we do have an instrument at my father's estate in the country, though I suppose it may be an inferior one, it's rather old.'

They talk a little more about instruments, and education, and before they know it the butler arrives to lead them to the dining-room.

As they walk along the familiar hall once more, Darcy wonders why no-one has even attempted to bring this house up to modern standards. Fitzwilliam may call it a shrine to his mother, but to Darcy it is painful to see his late aunt's beloved furnishings slowly grow out of date, and out of use. For some three or four years now his uncle and elder cousin have stopped visiting London altogether, preferring to stay in the country. And Fitzwilliam usually stays with Darcy, professedly because the servants gossip about his exploits, but Darcy suspects mostly because the memory of his mother pains him.

The late Lady Compton was a truly superior character, and Fitzwilliam was her favourite child, spoiled to make up for her initial disappointment not to have a little girl, Darcy always thought. But wouldn't it be better to dedicate one or two rooms to her memory, and have the rest redecorated and refurnished to modern comfort? When his elder cousin takes over his father's title he will need to be in town very often, and this is no place to receive important guests. It's a museum, and rather depressing. Hopefully Anne will not feel the melancholy it exudes to Darcy.

They had some glorious times here when Fitzwilliam's mother was still alive, the heart and soul of her little family, and very glad to offer her nephew, still an only child, the hospitality of her beautiful house and the companionship of her two sons, who were of course of his own age. But Anne never joined them, she was already sickly by then. She may have no memories of this house at all, and despite being old-fashioned it's much more homely than Rosings. Even Elizabeth seems to mostly feel its charms, and not its melancholy.

Lost in his musings, Elizabeth's hand in his but her attention directed towards the paintings and military paraphernalia adorning the hallway, Darcy doesn't register his surroundings until a soft voice breaks into his thoughts.

'Hello Fitzwilliam. It's so good to see you! You look thoughtful cousin, I hope it's not because of me.'

Anne! Has he been so lost in thoughts that he missed entering the dining-room? He looks around, and indeed, Elizabeth must have led him inside, distracted by Fitzwilliam's conversation about this compass and that seascape. Fitzwilliam is introducing her to his father, as if she's his wife, for goodness sake, if he wasn't Darcy's favourite cousin! They've met, of course, his uncle and Elizabeth, they've even danced at their wedding, Darcy remembers, but that seems ages ago. Oh, good, there's Fielding now, and Georgie, no chance for Fitzwilliam to claim Elizabeth towards his father.

A hand on his shoulder causes him to look at his cousin. She looks pretty awful, pale, sunken features, yet she only lacks bloom to be very beautiful, even though she must be at least twenty-five already.

'She's yours, Fitzwilliam, and he knows it, no need to be jealous of our cousin. It's his way to come to terms with your marriage.'

Now Darcy feels ashamed of himself, Elizabeth has never given him any reason to be jealous, and neither has Fitzwilliam. He needs to get over this, it's demeaning to lose control over one's feelings, especially in public.

'Hello Anne, good to see you again. I wish you were in better health, and I'm very sorry if I in any way contributed to your being indisposed. I hope your stay in London will cheer you up a little. Have you had a good journey?'

'Thank you for being honest, cousin. I'm so fed up with being pampered and lied to. I did feel bad when I heard of your marriage, but I have come to realise that wasn't your fault at all. It was maman who fed my hopes, you never gave me any encouragement, and frankly, I didn't act on my expectations either. I should have tried to get to know you, spent time with you, and I would have found out soon enough that my mother's promise was a lie, her own wishful thinking. I waited eight years for your proposals, Fitzwilliam, can you believe how blind and foolish I have been?'

What can he say? His aunt can be very convincing.

'You know our uncle is a lot nicer than I expected. I was always a bit afraid of him, but he was actually very entertaining on the road.

He had a massive row with mama before it came to travelling at all, she insisted on accompanying me and he bluntly refused, said it was time I had a life of my own. Then he told her Mrs Jenkinson would visit her family for the first time in four years. How did he know that? I didn't even realise it had been so long, I never really thought of her having a family missing her. I feel quite ashamed now.

Maman objected that meeting Mr Fielding would mean meeting you and Mrs Darcy, and he retorted that he was counting on it. She burst out in anger, fulminating against the two of you, and he laughed right in her face. Said he had read about Mrs Darcy in the newspapers and was dying to meet her again, expecting her to be a truly superior character and very entertaining.

I'll tell you maman nearly died of apoplexy right there and then. She went absolutely red, then purple, and before she could gather her thoughts and say anything at all, he asked sweet as icing-sugar, 'Have you read about your niece's engagement yet?'

I had, but I hadn't dared tell her, not eager to be the bringer of bad news.

'But our uncle savoured the moment, told her Georgiana had announced her engagement to a very special gentleman, making both cousin Fitzwilliam and yourself very happy. She was almost recovered, eager to hear about the new connection the family would make, and then he hit her with it, 'It's Mr Fielding himself, the supremely talented pianist that the papers are praising sky-high!'

Then he stepped back to enjoy the effect, and he got what he wanted. Such a tantrum maman threw, she raged and screamed, I think she even cursed once or twice. But uncle remained calm of course, and I rejoiced for dear Georgiana, having found someone she could really love, I can't wait to meet him and hear him play. Both of them.

Then uncle whispered to me, 'Have your maid pack for a three week visit, and if she's quick enough we'll be off before dinner.'

And we did, leaving mama in a state. You know he even took Mrs Jenkinson to her home, it wasn't far out of our road, but he could have left her to take the post. It was a very humble house where Mrs Jenkinson lived. Anyway, once we were by ourselves we talked, for the first time ever. He was easy to confide in, and hearing that cousin Fitzwilliam and you worried about me made me feel very good. I'm planning to enjoy myself here, cousin, though I will be scared to death of strangers at first.'

Darcy cannot remember Anne ever having talked so much, and with so much feeling. Maybe she does have some character after all. He has made appropriate sounds and comments in response to her account of her journey, and now he affirms, 'I'm sure you will have a good time here, Anne, our friend Manners knows everyone and he'll make sure you will find a few companions your age.'

But now he wants to be with Elizabeth, it feels wrong to be away from her, though he is glad to have spoken to his cousin. And Elizabeth is trying to catch his eye, the rest is already seated and she has saved a place for him by her side. Anne has a seat between Manners and Fitzwilliam, on the other side of the table, and Darcy's uncle is of course at the head of the table, right next to Elizabeth. Despite having Mrs Annesley on his other side, he does claim Elizabeth's attention more than Darcy likes, the old man is clearly planning to enjoy this evening, seated between two intelligent women.

But as soon as he sits down, Elizabeth takes his hand and squeezes it, leaving Darcy's uncle to Mrs Annesley for a few moments to whisper in his ear, 'If you act out here, I'll just let you. Maybe look at you fondly, or kiss you. These are your relatives.'

She knows. It's just incredible how subtly she can observe him, he would have sworn her attention was totally taken up by Fitzwilliam.

'You're so cute I want to eat you, beloved.'

She strokes his cheek gently, she wants to kiss him but is restraining herself, and he has to control himself, too, for he wants to lean into her strokes, rest his face in her hand. At least she's not angry at him, it must seem as if he doesn't trust her, he doesn't want to be jealous over her, it just happens.

'So Darcy,' his uncle breaks a very dangerous moment, as if he knows Darcy is at the verge of making a fool of himself, 'what's it like to have your wife change from a country girl into an icon of fashion?'

He sounds perfectly sincere, not a hint of deprecation towards Elizabeth, she must have used the term country girl herself, Darcy knows she hated her own naiveté when she first came to live in the city. And it works, the moment of intimacy is gone in an instant, and he squeezes Elizabeth's hand a little and formulates a reply.

'I feel very proud when I enter a room filled with admirers, uncle, but I know Elizabeth herself would prefer to be back at Pemberley, and not have everyone stare at her.'

'You get plenty of admiring looks yourself, Fitzwilliam,' she interjects.

That is true, and they make him feel good, because they make him feel worthy of her.

'I can see you are very happy together, Darcy, and I'm glad to see that. I was so very happily married myself, no riches or eminence can compare to the feeling of being with one's other half.'

Since the first course has been served by now, Elizabeth has released Darcy's hand and is talking with his uncle and Mrs Annesley cheerily, mostly about the London scene. Darcy finds his attention pulled towards the conversation between Anne and Manners, they seem to have hit it off quite readily. Of course Manners is such an outgoing person, it is hard not to like him, in much the same way as Bingley is very likeable, but somehow less unaffectedly so. Manners is very much aware of how the world works, more so even than Darcy himself.

Anne is eating well, she is so distracted by Manners' description of the girls he plans to introduce her to that Darcy dares to study her looks and her behaviour. He vaguely remembers her lady always pushing her to eat more, and Anne merely playing with the contents of her plate, but now she does nothing of the kind, she eats daintily, but a slice of bread is decreasing in size steadily, and she skilfully separates the meat from the bones of a roasted bird's wing.

The quality of the food is of course excellent, though it resembles their own fare more than what Anne is used to; Elizabeth described aunt Catherine's furniture as expensive to show off her fortune, and the dishes she usually has served are show-pieces, cream-enriched dainties with the most expensive ingredients of the season. Well-aged venison, imported truffles, rich ragouts, the kind of dishes Elizabeth dislikes for their excess of flavours. Maybe Anne just doesn't like her mother's preferred cuisine, she seems to appreciate a simple roast well enough, and the greens that must have cost her uncle a fortune to get in winter.

He tries some himself, it's cabbage! But not at all as the poor people of London are reputed to eat it, boiled to mash and without any added spices. This is exquisite, crunchy and delicately flavoured, he must ask his uncle's cook to share the recipe with his own.

'Are you very tired from your journey, Miss De Bourgh?' Manners asks politely.

'I was when we arrived, though the journey itself was very pleasurable, seeing new scenery, getting to know my uncle, telling him about my disappointments and my hopes for the future. But this morning I felt fine, nervous to meet strangers, but not tired. Somehow breakfast tasted much better than at home, and the Colonel and I had a nice little walk outside.'

'I'm afraid the air is not as good as in the country, some days it's actually very uncomfortable to go outside with all the smoke. And in summer those fumes lessen, but the river and the alleys start to smell rather noticeably. But I guess good company counts for much.

This year I'll certainly escape town in summer, Darcy has invited me to come to Pemberley. Of course I have my own estate, but somehow I always get bored when I'm by myself, I tend to seek society all year round.'

Well, Anne is certainly charmed by Manners, but her next observation spoils all cousin Fitzwilliam's expectations of her preferring to stay in Manners' country house if she were to marry him.

'I so agree! I have rarely been to town, but I am certain I'll prefer it to the country, it's so boring to always see the same faces. I'm a bit wary of strangers, but I hope to get used to them really quickly. Isn't Mr Fielding handsome? And my dear cousin Georgian has matured so gracefully, she's so beautiful, and so well-dressed. I can't wait to hear them play. Do you think I'll be able to wear fashionable dresses like that? I'm so terribly skinny, I've no figure at all.'

'I'm sure you will, Mrs Darcy has discovered the most brilliant boutique in a slightly forgotten part of town. Forgotten by our peers that is, for the businesses there are blooming with a growing number of local customers. The owner of this little boutique is a genius, she develops her own ensembles, and she has something for every figure. I'm certain she can find a style for you.'

Darcy does not recognise his cousin, she's so different from the last time they met. Of course he is, too, but for totally different reasons. No-one ever forced Darcy to do anything. Anne's lack of appetite must have some physical cause, how else could she have gotten so sickly? Aunt Catherine never tried to keep Anne from eating, did she? And there was plenty of fresh air at Rosings, even if she didn't dare to ride she could have rambled, like Elizabeth.

Thinking back at a certain scene at Netherfield, with Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst ridiculing Elizabeth behind her back for being an excellent walker, Darcy has to conclude that rambling, though a very healthy and pleasant form of exercise, is probably not entirely estimable, his aunt would never have allowed Anne to do so. And he can remember several instances where Anne was discouraged from playing with her cousins for fear of her getting hurt in some boisterous game. Though not from the first, for she used to be quite a tomboy.

He decides to ask.

'Fitzwilliam and I both remembered you as quite a tomboy, Anne. Always climbing trees and falling into streams and skipping pebbles with the rest of us. Do you remember?'

She looks at him, surprised to have him ask a question so totally unrelated to their conversation, and her face goes soft with the memory.

'I do, Darcy, though it seems a lifetime ago. Once, at Pemberley I think, for there was this other boy present, my age, can't remember his name, we all ran off to some village to look for chestnuts under this huge tree. But there weren't any on the ground, I suppose it was too early for them, and Spencer dared me to climb it to shake them down.'

Darcy remembers, Anne sure had some mettle then, his eldest cousin hadn't wanted to climb that tree himself and said the lightest must go.

'He lifted me onto the first branch and I quickly managed to get to a branch that wasn't too thick to shake loose some chestnuts. But then the three of you forgot all about me, gathering them. And that one boy helped me out, he was small and a bit squeamish, but he caught me as I let myself drop from the first branch. Those were the best chestnuts we ever found.

Do you remember that boy, Fitzwilliam? Mama didn't like him one bit, and I didn't understand why.'

'George Wickham was the boy's name. Spencer called him little George, and merely tolerated him because he was so small, but he was my friend and I wouldn't stand for leaving him behind. He was our steward's son.'

'So that's why mama didn't like him. I wondered what became of him, probably a clerk somewhere if his father was your dad's steward.

But anyway, you're right, I was a tomboy, even at home. Until papa died and I got really sick with flu or something. Then mama thought it was safer to keep me close and make a lady out of me. But I never got really well again after that, I lost my appetite and mama hired a lady to keep an eye on my health and my education. Still, I have some good memories of those summers.'

During this tale, Manners has sent a few significant looks at Darcy, it's clear he has an opinion on the whole affair. Darcy certainly has. As Anne has told her story, her father's decease was a turning point, and Darcy can imagine a girl falling ill with grief after losing a favourite parent. The restrictions placed upon her after that and a lack of exercise and challenge in her life may very well have sucked the life out of a spirited child. That is so sad!

'Well, a bit of dancing and some lively chatter with pleasant young ladies will make a huge difference, I'm sure.'

Manners has the right attitude, since nothing can be changed about the past, better look ahead and see what the future will bring poor Anne. At the very least, their uncle now has an interest in her well-being, and he will ensure Anne will not have to return to the same situation he has helped her escape.


	73. Chapter 73

Chapter 83

After dinner the ladies retreat, and Eric finds himself in the company of his host. Of course they exchanged polite greetings before dinner, but during dinner the Earl was mostly occupied with talking to Mrs Annesley and Mrs Darcy. To Elizabeth. It's still difficult to think of her as a kind of younger sister, she may be younger than Eric, but she seems a lot more experienced in the ways of the world. Still, he can try.

'I'm rather sorry I don't have an instrument, Mr Fielding, I can't wait to hear you play. Time sure appears to have come to a standstill in this house, or at least it must seem that way to you. You know I only see that now, I suppose because I haven't been here for a very long time indeed.

I used to always see my Alice in every room I entered, smiling sweetly at me, overjoyed as she explored her beautiful house with the new decorations finished just that day and turned out so well, exactly as she wanted them. But now I realise that is more than fifteen years ago, and my dear wife left us almost eight years ago already.

I guess time needs to resume its course, I'll talk to my son and my niece Anne to see what can be done about the house, give it a thorough renovation. Seven years must be enough time for Fitzwilliam to come to terms with his mother's loss. We left things this way for him, but I find it oppresses me to live in the past, and I used to like to visit London.'

The Earl seems caught up in his thoughts, it's good to see him show such humanity. But before his musings become sentimental or embarrassing to a relative stranger like Eric, his host collects himself and continues their conversation where he left it.

'Maybe you can give us some good advice on an instrument when the work is done, Mr Fielding, I'd like to have a piano here. But for now I'll hope for an invitation to Darcy's place, and I suppose we'll visit some of your concerts. Though I'd also like to hear Georgiana play, the papers always say she's such an excellent pianist, and I have not heard her play for almost a year.'

'I'll be happy to give you some good advice on buying an instrument, my Lord, and of course I'll play for you when you come over. Georgiana, too, I imagine you will not believe how much her playing has developed in the time you have not heard her perform. I've never had a pupil like her, she practises so consistently, and is so talented and determined.'

'Doesn't she mind being in your shadow, Mr Fielding? I really wonder, she's so ambitious herself, but she'll never eclipse or even match you. Won't it be very hard to see your star rising, having to sit in the audience herself?'

That is a legitimate question, and one Eric has often asked himself. Won't Georgiana start to reproach him for taking all the spot-light, even her share?

'She has told me repeatedly that she realises she will have to share me with my audience. And I suppose that means she will not mind standing in my shadow. But sir, we have already had several requests for her to accompany me on stage, but she has refused because as yet she finds her skills lacking. She does not want the audience to accept mediocrity because she's a girl, those are her own words. If she keeps progressing she will be good enough for the stage in six more months, she may gain her own fame. And we're accompanying Mr Darcy to Pemberley this summer, there will be no concerts and crowds, though we'll practise of course. I suppose I will spend some time composing, I hope there will be time to spend on the piano. You see, I've promised Darcy to let him teach me to ride and shoot like a gentleman.'

'Of course, what would life be without riding or shooting?'

The Earl seems to find this very funny.

'But seriously, you look and behave like the perfect gentleman, if you ride and shoot you'll be welcome anywhere. Do you speak French?'

'Passably well, my Lord, my former patron made sure I was schooled very thoroughly. And he's from Germany, I lived with him and his family, so I'm fluent in German.'

The older man nods in appreciation.

'With matters as they are in France, speaking German may turn out to be a very strong asset. Aren't the Germans the most accomplished composers?'

Well, that is something Eric hopes to find out soon, attending Mr Goodfellow's music gatherings twice a week.

'I'm sure they are among the best, but the French and the Italians are also very gifted. I wouldn't dare to choose, but I have to admit I play music, I have not made a study of it.'

Lord Compton laughs heartily, 'You're very diplomatic, Mr Fielding, and very modest. I don't wonder my son is so eloquent in his praise of you. And I haven't heard you play even a single note, yet.

Do you never drink spirits?'

'I do enjoy a glass of good wine, but never more than one, and I steer clear of spirits. Somehow they don't agree with me.'

'You are a wise man, Mr Fielding, a wise man. I know a lot of men in places of power who still have no idea of the effect spirits have on a man. Let us join the ladies, I sure we can spend another hour in pleasant conversation before it is time for bed.'

It feels weird to return to a drawing-room without an instrument, they're so used to spending a large part of their evening listening to music. Elizabeth really enjoys having quality music available at any time. If she wants to hear a reel, she requests one and gets one, with a thousand variations, or simple, as it is supposed to be. Everything Eric learns from Mr Goodfellow's friends, he relates or even demonstrates, it's like having one's favourite entertainment every day. Like having a birthday every day.

'Mrs Darcy, I have never seen my cousin so happy. Thank you so much for allowing me in your circle.'

What is it with these people that they treat her like a middle-aged dowager? Miss de Bourgh is at least five years her senior! Better let her know, but kindly.

'Thank you, Miss De Bourgh, I like to think Fitzwilliam is as happy in our marriage as I am. But I assure you I do not lay down the law in our house, though you may have been told that is the case.'

'Oh, that is exactly how I remember you from your time at Rosings! I hope we can be friends, I can use some of your spunk when I return to mama. Still I'm sure neither of my cousins would have even considered inviting me over to London if you had disapproved. I saw Fitzwilliam introduce you to his father, and I saw Darcy's reaction to beholding that scene. He would die for you, and rejoice!'

Another one of those hopeless romantics, but Elizabeth knows it's true, no matter how embarrassing: if she had objected to inviting Miss de Bourgh, the poor girl would still be a virtual captive at Rosings.

'I have reason to believe my impertinence is catching, Miss De Bourgh, though my eldest sister has always resisted the affliction and stayed perfectly polite. But your cousin Georgiana certainly has caught a hint of it.'

Dear Georgiana, she can be almost impudent these days, the shy girl Fitzwilliam introduced her to in that Lambton inn is almost forgotten.

'Dear Georgiana! I barely recognised her, she has grown so self-assured and beautiful, and she used to be so terribly shy! That is what I want, Mrs Darcy, I want to stand up to my mother like she said you did, and just ignore her when she seethes and rants. She told me in minute detail how you refused to obey her and even insulted her by suggesting she was impertinent to you instead of the other way around, and all I could do was wish I'd dare do that myself. And still I only found out how things really were between Darcy and you when Fitzwilliam kindly explained, it's as if I was fast asleep, and Fitzwilliam woke me up, brutally at first, but very beneficial once I was over the worst shock.'

'I'm very sorry to have caused you unhappiness, Miss De Bourgh, I must admit I watched the two of you when I visited Rosings with Mr and Mrs Collins, and neither of you seemed to care about the other. But of course not all feelings are displayed openly in such company, though at the time I believed I showed mine quite markedly.'

'You did, I told mama you could not be planning to trick Darcy into marriage since you disliked him and didn't hesitate to show him and everybody else. I admired your valour and frankness from the first. Imagine him not giving up on you, it's so romantic!'

When the gentlemen return to the drawing-room, Fitzwilliam joins the conversation and Elizabeth can take a second to consider both uncle and niece. She sincerely believes there is reason to like both, which is quite a relief. Miss de Bourgh is much livelier somehow, Elizabeth can almost believe she used to be a tomboy. And Lord Compton certainly isn't a crabby old fellow as she feared, in fact he is rather charming, and she has found not a single sign of condescension in him, not towards herself, but not to Mrs Annesley or any of the servants either. There is certainly hope that the next three weeks will turn out rather well, and if Elizabeth's share in helping Miss de Bourgh is teaching her to be impertinent, it's a role she is perfectly suited to, and one she doesn't dislike one bit.

They return to their house via a much quicker route and are dropped off at their own slightly more modest front door to find Johnson waiting for them. He does not look merely attentive at his master's return, he actually looks a bit agitated, even anxious. Or is it the light of the lamp casting strange shadows across his face?

As Fitzwilliam hands Elizabeth out of the carriage, Mrs Annesley remaining seated since Bob will take her home in the carriage, Johnson hovers over his master impatiently, something did happen, and he cannot wait to tell them about it. After a polite 'Good night, see you tomorrow!' to Mrs Annesley, Fitzwilliam closes the door of the carriage and signals Bob to set the team in motion. When the carriage is gone, Elizabeth points out Johnson's agitation to Fitzwilliam, who turns towards the butler to receive the news.

'I'm sorry, Mr Darcy, but you have visitors. They arrived in a splendid chaise-and-four with full equipage.'

As Johnson describes the livery of the attendants Elizabeth feels a little shock: it's Lady Catherine's. But Johnson is not done.

'I advised Simon to let them wait in the drawing-room, he seemed to know these visitors and was inclined to send them away and let them come back later, but I've always been taught that's not the hospitality one shows such wealthy people. Though when they got out their looks weren't nearly as grand as the carriage, and the lady and gentleman seemed rather impressed at the sight of your entrance. The chaise pulled out as soon as the gentleman closed the door, the driver did not wait for his passenger's approval.

Simon did not wonder about that, though, so maybe he was right to have wanted them awaiting your return elsewhere. I hope you're not put out with him, sir, I convinced him to let them in. The lady was very obviously with child, and close to her time I gathered, she looked very tired. Simon led them to the little pink sitting-room to wait, and the gentleman couldn't stop admiring everything, as if Simon were the master here. Though I admit he looks very regal in his livery.

I hope I did well, sir, I know Simon has been with the family much longer but he is not used to being in charge of the whole house, Mrs Annesley usually makes those decisions.'

Fitzwilliam looks at Elizabeth in wonder, and she must mirror his expression: a pregnant lady and a gentleman in Lady Catherine's chaise? Dressed plainly? Stunned by the house and paying excessive compliments?

'It cannot be your cousin, can it? And your friend, Mrs Collins?'

Elizabeth's heart nearly fails her, Charlotte and Mr Collins, in their pleasant, elegant town house? Instantly remembering the lively scene at the dance at Netherfield, when her cousin introduced himself to arrogant Mr Darcy, she can feel the blood rush to her cheeks in shame, then drain away totally at the realisation there are no other people known to Lady Catherine who can claim hospitality from Elizabeth, though of course Fitzwilliam has plenty of connections in common with his aunt. But with a sinking feeling she just knows, with absolute certainty, who their unannounced guests are.

'Elizabeth, my lovely, don't take it so hard, please! I'm not a self-important prig anymore, remember? I'll bear with him, I'll tease him as Mr Bennet does, and besides, we have Manners now. Imagine the two of them together. Come here, my love.'

Before she knows it she is in his arms.

'He is your cousin, you know. Since I have the most obnoxious aunt currently in existence, it's no more than fair that you should have some silly relatives to compensate. Let's go in and receive them, see what they want. I suppose my aunt sent them over to spy on my niece, and I propose we give her what she wants. We'll feed your cousin a load of information he won't dare to pass on to aunt Catherine, then sit back and enjoy. Let us men handle your cousin, Elizabeth, you just make sure your friend has a nice time, she has undoubtedly suffered a lot of inconvenience travelling in her state, all to obey aunt Catherine, she deserves some compensation, don't you think?'

Well, if Fitzwilliam doesn't mind a visit from Elizabeth's cousin, who is she to object? Mr Collins is family after all, and Fitzwilliam is right, Charlotte will have suffered enough about this, better give her a warm welcome instead of making her feel even worse.

The others have arrived by now and approach them, Georgiana asking with some concern, 'You aren't ill, Elizabeth, are you?'

'No, I'm quite well, it's just that Lady Catherine has sent some spies to keep an eye on Miss De Bourgh and they happen to be related to me, so they can claim hospitality from us. Let us go meet them then, Fitzwilliam.'

As Manners, Georgiana and Eric go in, the latter two undoubtedly straight towards a piano to make up for lost time, Fitzwilliam addresses Johnson.

'You did well, Johnson, to advise Simon to allow these visitors entrance to our home instead of turning them away. I know why Simon must have deemed it more sensible not to let hem in, but I hope we will always be hospitable to our friends and relatives. Mind you, not just those with expensive equipages.

You were right to be hospitable, and Simon was right to restrict their access to our private quarters. I find it very heartening to see my staff working together as a team, thank you.

Oh and Johnson..'

'Yes, master?'

'I would very much like to keep the presence of these visitors a little quiet. I trust you will not mention them to anyone.'

'Of course, master. Simon says the ability to keep one's mouth shut is the most important quality in a servant of a great house. I will take his advice to heart, sir, as I will yours to treat everyone politely, no matter their rank. Thank you, master.'

Well, maybe they can hold on to him after all, he seems to be growing into his position rather nicely.

Knowing Elizabeth's reluctance, Darcy enters the little confidence-room ahead of her and without knocking first. It's his house, after all. Simon's doubts about letting them into the house seem legitimate, since Mr Collins grovels even more than usual, as if he feels caught at something.

'Mr Darcy, sir, a thousand excuses can't express my intense regret at having to disturb you and my fair cousin in your truly magnificent city abode.'

He has indeed gotten chubby, as has Mrs Collins, but of course she's in the last stages of a pregnancy, Mr Collins doesn't have that excuse. Elizabeth's cousin seems the last person to choose when looking for a spy, he's so incredibly conspicuous with his constant bowing and scraping, though his facial features are indeed perfectly bland. But if Mr Bennet can find enjoyment in his company, Darcy will, too. It's just a matter of perspective after all.

Offering the round-cheeked fellow his hand in greeting, he speaks out with the superior attitude Mr Collins expects of the gentry.

'Mr Collins, such an unexpected pleasure to see you in town! You must have travelled in style, for my butler recognised your carriage as my aunt Catherine's equipage. I suppose you have an errand of hers to fulfil?'

Better let him know secrecy is of no avail, and now Darcy is starting to understand his father-in-law, it's so gratifying to be able to totally bewilder this pompous piece of humankind.

'Your butler? Lady Catherine's errand?'

Yes, servants are people, too. They have eyes, and intelligence, and they know things. They can recognise a carriage and tell their master about it.

'We can discuss Lady Catherine's errand later. First let's find you a room, or possibly a double room, I suppose a clergyman like you needs a private space for undisturbed contemplations. You must be tired with your journey, especially Mrs Collins.

Have you dined already?'

'Oh yes, Mr Darcy, or may I call you cousin Darcy now, since we're related?'

'Mr Darcy will be just fine, Mr Collins. You wouldn't want me to call you cousin Collins, now would you? That wouldn't be dignified at all for a man of the cloth. So you did have dinner?'

'You are so right, Mr Darcy, it wouldn't be dignified at all. Your remarkable intelligence is truly a unique trait of your excellent family! We didn't have dinner exactly, sir, your servant, the young man who showed us to this room, I didn't quite get his place in your household but a very polite man he was, he told us al kinds of interesting facts about the family-history and the building itself. Well, that servant brought us some cold meat and bread.

'To tide you over to supper' he said.

You know your livery resembles that of Rosings so very much, that at first I said to dear Charlotte, Charlotte, I said, isn't it as if we were at Rosings, except a smaller version of it? Of course your furniture looks different somehow, and your panelling and the flooring, too. But the livery looks just like that of Rosings, white and gold.'

Right. Of course Mr Bennet has lived with the worst kind of foolishness for years, he must be used to it. Darcy only experienced Mr Collins that one time at the Netherfield ball. Maybe Elizabeth is right, maybe this surprise visit does throw a little pallor on their elegant family party.

But Mrs Collins cannot be far from her confinement, she's huge, and obviously suffering for it. It must be a strapping baby in there, maybe even two. Two little Mr Collinses. Elizabeth's cousin cannot possibly have a first name, he was born and christened Mr Collins.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth has taken charge of poor Charlotte, she should not be travelling at all this close to her confinement. Not that Elizabeth believes in separating mothers-to-be from society, let some try to do that to her once she's in this stage.

Oh please let it take years before she ever gets there, Charlotte looks as awful as Elizabeth has always imagined being with child must be. Fat body, puffed up red face, stringy hair, her dress too narrow on all sides, and so incredibly tired she's not even ashamed of Mr Collins' obsequiousness towards her friend's husband. Would it be very bad to hope to stay barren? Fitzwilliam did not marry her to breed an heir, though he says he loves children. Elizabeth likes children well enough, her nephews and nieces are precious, did aunt Gardiner look this awful just before her time? Though Elizabeth must have seen her with child, she cannot for the life of her imagine trim, perfectly groomed aunt Gardiner with stringy hair and popping seams.

There must be a measure of negligence on Charlotte's side, too, she hasn't got a personal maid after all, nor enough staff to take care of all the domestic duties in the parsonage. She must have been working too hard even before this trip.

'I'm so sorry, Eliza, to impose on you. Lady Catherine insisted on Mr Collins' going, and I couldn't stop him, I'm just too tired to argue, so I opted to accompany him instead. But I'm afraid I made a grave mistake, I feel awful. Did I just hear Mr Darcy offer us two rooms? Can you please make sure I get my own room, dear Eliza? Close to the privy? We have never shared a room, it's hard enough to get some sleep as it is.'

'Of course, dear Charlotte, and don't feel like you're imposing on us. Fitzwilliam has promised to take Mr Collins under his wings, so that I can spoil you. Will you feel better after a quiet night? Maybe a bath first?'

'I don't dare to bathe anymore, Eliza, I've lost my balance several times. If I fall I might hurt the baby, and I'm looking forward to my little son or daughter so very much. It'll be such a blessing to have a tiny life to care for, with wee little hands and feet, and sweet innocent smiles. We'll have such a good time together!'

A tiny life to care for? A sweet and innocent baby? That is true, babies are cute, even Mr Collins' baby will be sweet, babies are supposed to be round and chubby. Imagine what Fitzwilliam's baby would look like... That isn't easy at all! What did he look like when he was a boy? Mrs Reynolds called him a sweet, good natured boy, but he couldn't have looked at all like what he is now, a tall, handsome man with an athletic figure.

'I'm sorry, Charlotte, I'm keeping you on your feet when you should be resting. I have a very sweet, very capable maid, who I'm sure will be very pleased to help you take a nice, hot bath safely. Fanny will baby you as you deserve, driving in a carriage for hours in your condition, to spy for Lady Catherine. Great Lady or not, she ought to be ashamed of herself.

But not you, Charlotte, we'll spoil you rotten before you go back, if you are up to some shopping, eating pie and going out in the evening. We go out almost every night, our new brother is playing concerts all over town and we need to chaperone Miss Darcy until they are well and truly married.

Now, let me introduce you to our friends and we'll have some supper, and after that your bath will be ready and a comfortable chamber close to the privy. I'll tell Fanny to take extra care of you, which she loves to do. You just come with me and let the gentlemen handle Mr Collins.'

Well, Charlotte clearly did not expect such a reception, and Elizabeth is glad Fitzwilliam has taken everything in stride instead of making a thing out of it. Poor Charlotte at least is thankful for it.

'Yes, please, Eliza, I'd like to eat a little, talk a little, and a bath would be like heaven. You have such a beautiful house. You know I did think Mr Darcy admired you when you visited us, but you always denied that so decidedly. I'm glad I was right, he's such a handsome man. And kind, too. Look at him talking to Mr Collins, he's just the perfect host.'

Fortunately Charlotte walks to the drawing-room easily enough, and Elizabeth directs her to the most comfortable sofa in there. After their introduction, Manners immediately starts a friendly conversation, and soft piano-music from Eric and Georgiana finishes the picture of domestic bliss. Elizabeth leaves Charlotte to Manners for a few moments, to ring for Simon and ask him to have a bedroom and a bath prepared for her friend Charlotte.

'She need not be lodged near her husband, Simon, just near the privy. And I suppose you were going to keep an eye on him anyway?'

'I was, ma'am. As soon as I recognised the livery and the equipage I knew they were sent to spy on Miss the Bourgh. I'm sorry I wanted to turn them away, Mrs Darcy, I didn't know Mrs Collins was with child. Frankly, I feel a bit like those innkeepers in the Bible, though I suppose Lady Catherine de Bourgh's carriage is to be preferred over the bony back of a donkey any day. I'm glad Johnson intervened.'

'Don't feel bad, Simon, he didn't want to let them in out of kindness, he didn't want to insult someone who could afford an equipage like that. We're just glad you're taking advice from each other, and especially Johnson from you. It's such a bother to have to hire new staff.'

Simon smiled fondly at his mistress, he still didn't know his place, but he was going to leave them soon and she would miss him terribly. Not just for his extraordinary skills, but also for himself.

'Your friend will be in the best hands, Mrs Darcy. Is he truly your cousin? A relative of your father's?'

It is hard to acknowledge, but unfortunately true nonetheless.

'He is. It's hard to understand why my friend married him, in full possession of her wits, but she did. But she just told me she's looking forward very much to having the baby. It'll keep her occupied for the next ten years, poor Charlotte. Please be very kind to her, and keep an eye on him, and we'll all survive. Probably. Though I'm glad Fitzwilliam keeps his rifles at Pemberley and not here.'

'Mr Manners will help keeping him amused. He likes to study human behaviour, he'll be thrilled to meet Mr Collins. I bet Mr Bennet enjoys having him around.'

'You are so right. My father considers his nephew one huge joke, I suppose especially now Jane, Kitty and I are married well. Before that he must have been slightly worried about the entail, Mr Collins could have thrown us out on the day my father died. A fine landlord he'll be for my father's tenants.'

'Then let us hope your friend presents her husband with a fine, smart boy, and protects him from his father's indoctrination in humility and servility.

Do not worry a bit, ma'am, Fanny will spoil your friend and keep her baby safe, she has seen her mother with child countless times and knows what to do.'


	74. Chapter 74

Chapter 84

Fortunately, Mr Collins is not used to a household where the piano is used all day long and life just goes on around it. To him, music is entertainment, something to listen to in respectful silence, which spares them the sound of his voice until he finally realises that the rest of them just chat on, ignoring the lovely sounds emerging from Georgiana's beautiful instrument.

Darcy guesses this is the piece Fielding is studying to play on the Renaissance meeting, for it is like nothing he has ever heard before. It's pleasant to listen to after having been forced to hear out Mr Collins for nearly an hour, making excuses for his presence, admitting to having been sent by Lady Catherine to spy on her daughter, imagining her anger at having her clever ruse seen through before reached their destiny for more than an hour.

Though Darcy soon finds his talent to ignore incessantly repeating noises coming to his aid. Apparently this unique talent of his does not just filter out piano practice, it also helps him to no longer hear Mr Collins' prattle. He doesn't even acknowledge Mr Collins' presence, and the man never notices he is being ignored. Good, it will make the coming weeks easier to bear. And maybe they will be able to foist him off on Jane and Bingley after a week or so.

Though that will be hard on Mrs Collins, she should not be visiting anyone in her state, she should be at home, knitting little garments and dreaming beautiful dreams of motherhood. Oh well, being here with Elizabeth won't do her much harm, life is probably easier here, she must have duties at home, they have a very basic staff at the parsonage.

For now, she's sitting in a cosy corner with Elizabeth, no doubt catching up on months of news. Manners is ready to chat with their male visitor, but does not want to disturb that one's enjoyment of truly superior playing, something Darcy realises may not be mere politeness after all, but the first sign of cultural refinement he has ever seen in Mr Collins.

And in the first moment of silence Mr Collins does prove he has some higher feelings. He addresses Manners, to whom he has been introduced but only shortly, since the music silenced him almost immediately after entering the drawing-room.

'My good and noble sir, please do not think I do not have the highest respect for your fine person and your exalted family, for I do. But I have truly not ever heard music the likes of this before, the tones are so clear and so sweet, it's like a preconception on Heaven. I read about Mr Darcy's patronage in my own patroness' newspaper, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, she is Mr Darcy's aunt you know, always allows me to read her newspaper when she and her adoring daughter, Miss Anne de Bourgh, are finished with it.

But my good sir, Mr Manners, little did I expect to hear such superiority of execution, such taste in the choice of material. If you'll excuse me my neglect towards you, I must have my cousin introduce me to this master. I so want to tell him how much I admire his playing, before another minute has passed.'

Manners is not insulted of course, but rather excessively diverted. He loves peculiarities as much as Mr Bennet, he is as easily bored as Darcy's father-in-law and seems to have a similar taste in entertainment, though Manners is a lot more diplomatic with people who bore him. Nonetheless he manages to keep a straight face as he observes, 'By all means, Mr Collins, do get acquainted with Mr Fielding and Miss Darcy, better make it quick or they will start another piece.'

'Thank you so much for your understanding, Mr Manners, you seem to be blessed with the fine sensibilities so typical of your superior breed.'

Darcy wonders that his new cousin doesn't just introduce himself to the famous pianist, but apparently even Mr Collins' audacity has his limits. A famous name, impressive connections, stepping over the proper formalities there is all well and good. But apparently a God-given talent inspires such awe in him that he needs a proper introduction by his host. Before Mr Collins can waste any more time bowing and scraping to Mr Manners, Darcy catches his eye and leads the way to the piano.

'Fielding, Georgie, please allow me to introduce Mr Collins to you. He is Elizabeth's cousin and heir to Mr Bennet's property.

Mr Collins, please let me introduce you to my protégé Mr Fielding, master pianist and composer, and soon to be my brother-in-law. And my sister Miss Georgiana Darcy, who is no mean pianist herself.'

It is just incredible, for once the pompous little man, now going on chubby on top of his plainness and abhorrent style of dressing, is absolutely silent. Stricken dumb.

Darcy is immensely surprised, Mr Collins must know of Mr Fielding's descent, Darcy would have expected him to be barely civil to a cow-herds' son. Somehow, to Darcy, this is the most conclusive proof that some people just are above class. Some talents are apparently so valuable they instantly place their possessor at the height of society.

'I'm very pleased to meet you, Mr Collins,' Georgie first breaks the silence. 'I've heard quite a bit about you from my sister-in-law, I've long wanted to meet you, and your lady wife.'

Going out in public has done wonders for Georgie, one year ago she would not have dared to greet a stranger like this, and still everyone would have expected her to address them first due to her superior rank. Being able to talk to strangers has improved her reputation manifold, making it even easier to be nice to people.

And of course she has been in constant company of people who have a natural gift for connecting to people, giving her an excellent example as well as the opportunity to hide behind one or all of them when not in the mood to be social. He's done that himself occasionally, letting Manners or Elizabeth handle certain people or certain situations.

'I hope you haven't been waiting long for us to greet you properly, Mr Collins,' Fielding remarks, 'time tends to come to a halt when we are playing the piano, causing us to sometimes forget common courtesy.'

Yes, some people instinctively know how to reach out to others, and Fielding is most certainly one of them. Such an admirable fellow, and kind as well as talented.

'Thank you very much for noticing me, Mr Fielding, Miss Darcy. It warms my humble heart to be thus addressed by the cream of society.'

A deep bow expresses Mr Collins' feelings much better than words, no matter how many of those he's already used.

'May I tell you, Mr Fielding, how much your music touches me? However grand the attractions of Rosings, the size of its rooms, the richness of its interior, the abundance of its hospitality and of course the charms of Lady Catherine de Bough and Miss Anne de Bourgh, there has always been one thing missing from that grand place. One thing only, mind you, Mr Fielding. And that is music.

Superior music feeds the soul almost as much as true religion does, and let us be honest: after a long day of caring for my parishioners' souls, and a copious meal, what would be more enjoyable than such exalted music? It's the only thing that could possibly improve on Rosings.

Thank you for allowing me to hear your playing, and please do not let my mere presence deter you from continuing your practising, for I suppose to reach your level of proficiency one needs to study from dawn to dusk.'

Fielding and Georgie are controlling their facial expressions admirably, and Darcy's brother-in-law even manages to offer a polite reply. Then they take Mr Collins' advice and continue their playing, the Bach work they have translated to piano. Darcy suspects Fielding of planning to make that the first piece Georgie will play on the stage with him, though his own unsophisticated hearing cannot give him any clue how much she has advanced so far. To him it sounds perfect, but Elizabeth says it needs a lot more work, and not just Georgie's.

Imagine her hearing things like that when her own playing is so much less advanced. Though she is in fact progressing rapidly herself, that even Darcy can hear. The improvements his beloved is making under Fielding's strict regime of practising are positively huge, though she does still play their own favourites, the simple folk-songs she played at Rosings.

He wonders whether they were good enough for Mr Collins' taste to elevate the entertainments of Rosings to perfection for the three weeks Miss Elizabeth Bennet played them especially for Colonel Fitzwilliam. Probably not, Darcy knows Elizabeth suspects Mr Collins of still holding her refusal of his offer of marriage against her, and Darcy guesses rightly so. Even when it has made him a kind of relative to his adored Lady Catherine.

Their tired visitors soon retreat to their separate bedrooms, Charlotte hopefully enjoying her first bath in what may be weeks. When the couple has left the room, the others gather for one last drink, and some strategic planning for the coming weeks.

'I was planning to invite my uncle and both my cousins for dinner tomorrow, but you have a concert in the evening, don't you, Fielding?'

'I have a concert every single night this week, Darcy. I even had an offer for tonight, but it came after your cousin the Colonel asked us to dine with his father, so I offered them next Thursday. The day after tomorrow is a late concert, it starts at ten, we could dine first and take your relatives to the concert afterwards?'

Manners observes, 'Miss Anne and I have planned to wait on the daughters of good friends of mine tomorrow, they're twins, and very accepting of strangers, especially girls with respectable names and a tragic story. I expect them to ask Miss Anne to dinner tomorrow and to visit the concert with them. My presence will not be needed long after the introductions. I'll have to answer the young ladies' thousand questions about Mr Fielding and Miss Darcy, and then I'll come straight home.'

Darcy thinks this over, and concludes, 'Well, we'd better have my uncle and Fitzwilliam the day after tomorrow then, for Anne will want to come over for dinner, too.'

'If things turn out the way I expect, she may not be able to attend dinner here, Darcy, I hope you won't mind. I expect Miss de Bourgh to form a fast friendship with the Blackwood girls and their friends. She may be at home only to sleep and have breakfast, and maybe not even that. Slumber-parties are the fashion among those girls, they may keep her for weeks on end unless your uncle intervenes to take her on outings and family-visits and if I have my way, to see a doctor.'

That is a joke! If Anne doesn't come to dinner where Mr Collins is invited, he'll never get to see her at all! Of course Darcy himself will be the main sufferer for this development, having to entertain Mr Collins all day, but it's obviously the right thing for Anne to be with other girls and have fun, and maybe Mr Collins will give up and go back to Hunsford.

'Oh, poor Fitzwilliam!' Georgie exclaims, 'he'll be stuck with Mr Collins all day!'

She is a smart one indeed, but Manners corrects her gently.

'Don't worry, Georgiana, I will not be away for more than an hour or two. After that I'll amuse myself with Mr Collins. That reminds me, Elizabeth, can we visit your Miss Fillinger before our meeting with the Blackwood family? I think Miss de Bourgh really wants to buy some nice dresses.'

'Of course, Frederick, it will be my pleasure. Do you want Simon to come, too? He is the best, you know.'

'Let's do that, then. We'll pick her up at ten, will that suit you? Going out with your friend in the house, I mean?'

'I was hoping to bring her, too, if you don't mind. I want to gift her a few nice dresses, the one she was wearing will not fit her for another week, let alone two or three, it was too small already. What do you say?'

'By all means, bring her. Then she can tell her Lady Catherine that Miss de Bourgh is doing well and enjoying herself.'

When they are finally seated in Frederick's carriage the next morning, on their way to pick up Miss de Bourgh from her uncle's home, Elizabeth does wonder whether this is not too much for poor Charlotte. But she does need some dresses, she is wearing a different one today and neither it, nor the one from yesterday will be of any use to her for the next three or four weeks, they're already so tight around her belly.

'Are you sure you don't mind taking me along, Eliza?' Charlotte asks with quite some worry. 'I don't want to be a burden on you, and I don't want to be a spy. I just came along to stop Mr Collins from making a complete fool out of himself, forcing his way in at Lord Compton's, or doing something even worse.'

Fatigue has robbed Charlotte of her usual diplomacy towards her husband, but Frederick has enough for two.

'Try not to worry, Mrs Collins, Mr Darcy and I will keep an eye on your husband, you try to enjoy yourself and take enough rest. Before you know it you'll be back home, ready to receive your dear little baby.'

Elizabeth tries to calm her friend, hoping to make her see that no-one will fault her for her husband's behaviour.

'Mr Collins has a lot of respect for gentlemen like Fitzwilliam and Mr Manners here. He'll mind them and keep his quiet. Don't worry, Charlotte, everything will be fine.'

And though Miss de Bourgh seems a bit surprised to find Mrs Collins along on a shopping trip, she is positively friendly.

'Mrs Collins, please don't tell me my mother forced you to follow me to town, I'm so very sorry! How could she, in your condition! Are you feeling quite well? You look a bit paler than usual.'

'Thank you, Miss de Bourgh, indeed I do feel a little out of sorts. I was worried you'd blame me for spying on you. Mr Collins would go, and I dared not stay behind. Besides, I wished to see my good friend Eliza again.'

'Oh no, Mrs Collins, I don't blame you one bit! I know what maman is like, I didn't dare say or do anything for years, and I've my own fortune! Well, those days are gone, and I'm going to enjoy myself. You may tell her that, or not, I don't care. I'll buy myself a few lovely dresses and start exploring society. And you know, Mrs Collins...?'

Charlotte obviously cannot believe her eyes and ears.

'I feel great! I'm hungry at the right times, I love Hannah's cooking, I take a longer walk each morning with my cousin, and I'm going to make friends today.'

'You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that, Miss de Bourgh. You look so much better already,' Charlotte observes, 'You have such a fine colour, and your eyes sparkle. Maybe you'd better buy the dresses with a little room, for you may gain weight quickly if you've an appetite here.'

'True, Mrs Collins, I will certainly consider that. Thank you. And thank you for being a good friend to me the last year, despite my lukewarm reception of you. I don't think I'll be back or we could be friends, but you'll have your little baby to keep you company.'

Charlotte again cannot hide her shock.

'Oh, I'm not planning to go back to maman at all, Mrs Collins. I plan to be married instead.'

She bends over towards Elizabeth and Charlotte, and conspiratorially says, 'I've already met one fine bachelor. Excellent family, connections and fortune, perfect gentleman. What more could a girl want?'

And she winks and inclines her head towards Frederick ever so slightly. Does she mean to catch him? Oh my, that would be interesting at the very least. Frederick either pretends to be occupied with something outside, or he really is distracted. Elizabeth doesn't know, but she knows him, and he is infinitely more subtle than Miss Anne de Bourgh, or even Elizabeth herself, has any idea of. Mr Manners will not be caught unaware.

Choosing dresses for Miss Anne is very easy, Miss Fillinger has several options for very thin ladies and she looks great in all of them. She does choose those that are a bit looser, she obviously doesn't feel comfortable seeing her flat figure, and if she gains some weight they'll improve her figure even more than they do already.

'I'm sorry, ma'am, but I have no dresses ready-made for expectant ladies, they change shape so much in such a short time, and there is hardly any demand.'

Elizabeth anticipated as much, and she inquires, 'Do you have something very loose, that Mrs Collins can pull tight with a sash, or maybe something that can be adapted a tiny bit?'

Simon has been rifling through the collection of ready-made's, and he comes towards them with two large dresses, obviously meant for rather stout ladies.

'Please bear with me, Mrs Collins, I know you're not really this size, but I have an idea.'

Charlotte knows who the real expert is, Elizabeth has prepared her friend for her servant stepping in and giving advice. And sure enough, with a pale blue sash around her belly the loose cream dress looks rather nice, and not too fashionable for Hunsford, or a minister's wife.

'We'll have this one, and the sash to go with it,' Elizabeth states, 'it's my treat, Charlotte, please accept a gift from your best friend. You can wear this up to the last, I'm certain it will be very comfortable.'

The other dress works as well, with two ribbons already attached to both sides pulling the excess fabric away from the top part of the dress, to be tied in the back with a bow. With Simon spurring on her genius, Miss Fillinger now starts to think in possibilities, and she comes up with a snugly fitting beautifully embroidered top of which the skirts are much too narrow.

'I can replace these skirts with fuller ones in half an hour. It's a bit dressy, ma'am, but it would look very good on you indeed.'

Elizabeth is starting to get the hang of this, too, and she can see the end result before her mind's eye.

'Yes, that is exactly what Mrs Collins needs for the entertainment we're planning. Can you have it ready to wear tomorrow?'

Simon has had his instructions before they left, and he brings several hats and caps, for Miss de Bourgh, too. Finding a moment to observe Frederick as he watches his lover work his magic, Elizabeth feels a little thrill of romance. Of course he knows Simon is good at this, he has read the papers, heard the ladies praise Elizabeth and Georgiana, seen the admiring looks and yes, even the envy. Though that might have been due to their walking beside such handsome men.

But now Frederick can see his partner in action, he can see the genius at work with his own eyes. And he totally melts, his gaze one of infatuation and admiration, Mr Manners, who is always good-humoured, but who never gives away the his feelings. Better give him a hint, or someone will notice.

Walking towards him and taking his hand, Elizabeth whispers softly, 'You see why he is the best?'

The expression blanks to his usual kind sedateness.

'Thank you, Elizabeth, for a moment there, I let myself go. I hope no-one noticed.'

And Elizabeth helps him hope.

Both Miss de Bourgh and Elizabeth pay in hard cash, and Miss Anne takes her dresses and hats home with her straight away, she wants to wear some of them immediately. They skip the coffee for Charlotte is exhausted, though she does not admit to it.

'Better have her stay at home and make her take a nap, Mrs Darcy,' Simon says, as he walks beside her while Frederick supports Charlotte. He is very strong, and he feels safe, somehow, even Charlotte doesn't show discomfort walking arm in arm with a gentleman she only met last night.

'Fanny told me she worries about Mrs Collins. She has seen her mother with child often and she says the baby should be lower already. Do you think she is right? Fanny is not the kind for hysterics, but she's not a midwife either. Anyway, I thought I'd tell you, you can keep an eye on Mrs Collins yourself.'

'I'll talk to her, Simon. I know Fanny as a very competent woman. If she sees something to worry about, we'll keep an eye on it and send for a doctor or midwife if needed. Thank you for letting me know, I know you don't like to tell on her but this time it's for the best, she may not dare talk to me, not wanting to meddle.'

Charlotte takes only the slightest convincing to retreat for a nap before lunch.

'You use these days to sleep as much as you need, Charlotte, we will take care of Mr Collins. Wasn't Miss de Bourgh nice?'

'She was, dear Eliza. I'm really glad to see her so much improved already. Imagine her thinking of a husband already. So you really don't mind if I keep to my room quite a bit?'

'Not in the slightest, I can see this morning has been hard on you. And your task here is in a way already finished: you did what Lady Catherine wanted, you talked to her daughter and have assured yourself she is well. You take all the rest you need, for yourself but also for your baby. I've heard they are happier when their mother sleeps a lot.'

'He certainly seems to move about a lot more when I rest. I ache for rest, Eliza, I will see you at lunch, and maybe we can talk again afterwards? I really love being here with you, I'm so glad Mr Darcy turned out to be a good man after all. Thank you for the dresses, Eliza, I love them. They are so beautiful and comfortable.'

After lunch that day, Elizabeth decides to send a note to Jane to ask her to chaperone Georgiana to the concert that night. Charlotte is not up to entertainment after going out that morning, and Elizabeth is determined to stay with her friend. Fitzwilliam has offered to stay at home as well, and Frederick urges them to let him take Mr Collins, so the house will be altogether quiet for Mrs Collins.

Miss de Bourgh will be at the concert, too, she has indeed been invited to stay with the twins and their friends, but Elizabeth convinces Charlotte that Mr Manners can keep Mr Collins in line.

And though Georgiana has some doubts about taking Mr Collins along behind the scenes, Frederick does keep his promise that Eric will not suffer any discomfort from his presence.

'Better he remains here with us than have him on the loose in the crowd, where he may pester Miss de Bourgh and her new friends.'

Mr Collins is tiresome in his admiration of Eric, he can never seem to say anything outright, he has to take minutes to come to the point. But he is very much in awe of his cousin's brother-in-law, leaving him alone when he needs to concentrate on his work, and anyway, Bingley and Jane both take turns talking to him as well.

But Frederick spends the most time on Mr Collins and he even seems to enjoy himself doing so. Well, as long as Georgiana doesn't have to put up with him and he's not bothering Eric, it's fine by her. Tonight is a private party, but a rather large one, in a hired venue with a real stage and, for the first time since Eric's triumph started, with a Zumpe as their main instrument.

'To think I'd be homesick for a Zumpe, my love. It's like meeting an old friend I had lost contact with. I know I have my own but it sounds different in a small room, and anyway, that's just practice. I was so keen on those Italian instruments, but now I'm looking forward to a long trip to the past.'

And he relishes his usual ritual to get to know the piano, adjusting the tuning to his own preference, playing his practice piece to warm up but followed by the latest addition to his own composition. Love and happiness seem to fill the room and when he is done playing there is no applause but silence, as those present have to swallow a few times extra to deal with the feelings Eric has stirred inside them.

Then they applaud after all, especially Mr Collins, who is speechless for a few moments afterwards. Apparently Eric is the only person who can shut him up, a notable achievement.

The concert itself is no different, the virtuous pieces are only slightly less vibrant than on the usual stage-piano, but the romantic works, how they grab the soul. Georgiana supposes the rest have all met cousin Anne in the main hall by now, as the guests enter the venue, while she stayed with Eric behind the scenes. They'll meet the birthday guests after the show, Eric has started to avoid the crowds of eager ladies before the concert.

'They hire me to play music, not to be fawned on and touched surreptitiously. Or openly. I'll talk to them afterwards, Manners can tell them I need to prepare for the concert. They'll call me arrogant, I know, but I cannot play every night if I'm to be prodded and pinched and sampled before I have to perform. It feels demeaning, as if I'm an object, not my own person.'

Georgiana cannot say she's sorry to have him to herself, and Frederick understands, as long as Eric spends some time on his admirers after the show.

During the first stage of the concert Georgiana looks around to scan the crowd, she's actually quite curious to see the twins Frederick set Anne up with, do they really like her, or do they just tolerate her because of her family name?

Ah, that's Anne over there, she looks lovely, they have done something with her hair that is very becoming. Then those dark haired girls on each side of her must be the twins, for they look exactly alike except for their dresses. They're not ideal beauties, their brows are very dark and heavy, and their faces are rather jowly for such young girls, but they look friendly enough, and they have chosen to sit next to cousin Anne instead of each other. It's impossible to see what they think of her, all thee of them are completely transfixed by the music, but Georgiana is certain to meet them after the concert.

Searching the rest of the crowd for faces she knows, she sees several of Eric's most fervent admirers, girls she doesn't care for herself, of course, but as Frederick said, they will make him independent quickly by buying tickets for every single one of his shows. Though this party is invitation only, they're in luck to have their friend invite the musician they idolise.

Maybe she can find the birthday girl, she'll want to talk to Eric no doubt, maybe even kiss him chastely, which Georgiana will try not to mind, they've decided to go for the special licence and a month will see them married. And anyway, she knows Eric only cares about her, he doesn't even really like most of his admirers.

Yes, that must be the birthday girl over there. She's young, Georgiana's age, but she's a lot shorter and plumper and dressed in a rather childish looking fancy creation of pink silk and lace. Is she really wearing a gold crown on her magnificently styled blond hair? She is! Eric will have a fainting spell just after he is nice to her.

To the far end of the room, it's a small venue and rather cosy, she can discern another familiar face, but it takes awhile to put a name to it, it's not one of Eric's known admirers. Then it strikes her. The girl is his original admirer, it's Miss Zumpe! How did she get in here? The Zumpe's are very middle-class, and this party is way above the likes of her! She is not sitting with other girls, but with a man old enough to be her father. Oh my goodness, it must actually be her father, connected to this venue because they have one of his instruments. Well, Mr Zumpe cannot harm Eric in any way, and he has a right to listen to his former protégé's music as much as anyone else.

He seems to enjoy it, of course these are still the virtuous works he loves so much.

Miss Zumpe looks content, she must have made up with her father to visit a concert together. Georgiana will be sure to look back towards them later, when Eric has reached his own concerto. See how long Mr Zumpe manages to listen to that!

But when Eric does start on his own work, Georgiana has real trouble pulling her attention away from him. Is it just the piano, or was it their farewell just before he went onto the stage? The music is so beautiful, so haunting, she really has to force herself to look behind her instead of gazing at her fiancée in adulation.

Miss Zumpe is transfixed, poor girl, she's still very much in love with Eric, though she knows it's hopeless. Or does she? Her father has lied to her before, maybe he managed to convince her there is still a chance. But no, there is no hope in Miss Zumpe's steady gaze, just love and acceptance. For a short moment, the girl looks straight at Georgiana, finding the latter watching her and averting her gaze quickly. Poor Louise.

And Mr Zumpe? He's still there, and he's not disgusted but merely puzzled. He can see the rest of the audience loves this, is totally caught up in it. Maybe he has heard the difference in his own piano's performance, the virtuous work he loves so much very impressive, but the romantic composition heart-rending. Well, whatever Mr Zumpe decides, Georgiana takes one more minute to check on her cousin, who is spellbound, then lets herself be picked up by Eric's playing once again, lost to the world for the rest of the concert.

It's a good thing she is used to leaving the audience at a certain spot in his last piece, for without the habit of getting up and going backstage she would have stayed glued to her seat to the end, leaving Eric without his beloved waiting for him with a kiss and a drink before he joins the crowd.

But as it is, her body rises of itself and walks towards the door that will lead her to the back of the stage. She even finds a moment to turn around and see that Mr Zumpe is still present, but it is very hard to make out his expression. Then she fetches a glass of water for her beloved and moves towards the stage entrance, just in time to receive him in her arms and kiss him ardently.

'This was the best one yet, Eric,' is all she can say with her feelings rising at the sight and feel of him.

'Wasn't it?' is all he replies in triumph.

They stand together for a few minutes, while the applause dies down slowly and voices start to mingle in the concert-room.

'It's time to earn my keep, my love. Will you be at my side?'

'Of course I will, can't let the chubby birthday girl have free rein after all. I must protect my assets.'

She is in doubt whether to tell him the Zumpe's were there, will it matter to him? Yes, he needs to know, what if they want to talk to him? It would be highly indecorous to try and approach the star when allowed to sit in on what is to all intents and purposes a private party, but from what Georgiana has heard, Mr Zumpe is not bound by conventions very much.

'Eric, Miss Zumpe was in the hall, at the back, with an older man I suspect is her father.'

'He was? Imagine him getting access to a private party! Well, if he wants to tell me how bad this was, he can wait his turn. Come, my love, let's face the crowd!'

And he drains his glass in two large gulps, he must be thirsty, then leads Georgiana over the stage and into the throng of people.


	75. Chapter 75

Chapter 85

Even though Mrs Collins seems a lot better the next day, Elizabeth still plans to stay at home to keep her friend company. They spend a quiet day reading, chatting, listening to Georgiana and Eric practising.

Jane drops by for a short visit, to hear the news from the Lucas family from Mrs Collins and tell them about last night.

'We had such a thrilling night, Lizzy, everyone was so nice to us, they treated us almost like royalty. I didn't know being famous was like that. Though they did make Mr Fielding pay for his fame, by having him present the birthday girl with her gift as if he actually knew her. I suppose he could have refused, but he is such a kind man and it certainly made the girl very happy. Though I can imagine dear Georgiana breathing a sigh of relief once she has his ring on her finger.

Mr Manners spent a lot of time on Miss de Bourgh and her new friends, though I suppose he did keep an eye on the proceedings for he asked Bingley to warn him if a man he pointed out in the back were to come forward. Afterwards we found out that man was Mr Fielding's former patron, who you told us hadn't treated poor Mr Fielding very well. Bingley did keep an eye on the fellow but he and the girl he was with went away as soon as all the rest of the audience had moved to the front to wait for their turn to talk to Mr Fielding. They really love him, Lizzy, it's almost unseemly to throw oneself thus at an engaged man.

A lot of those girls who couldn't talk to Mr Fielding talked to us, they seemed rather envious that we knew Mr Fielding personally. Georgiana has changed a lot, hasn't she? She used to be so shy, but now she talked to many of the people there, though I suppose a lot of them envy her even more.'

Imagine Jane realising those girls were jealous. She used to be unable to even see bad in anyone, but now she certainly seems to be a lot more aware of the realities of life. Maybe living with Bingley's sisters has taught her to be less naïve. In a way Jane has been even more countrified than Elizabeth herself, but her sister is certainly learning about people now.

'We wouldn't mind to do this a little more often, you know, if you want to spend a night together now and then. It was very pleasant, we really need to go out now we're still in the city, and this is a perfect way to do it.'

That isn't a bad idea at all, Elizabeth can think of a few things she'd like to do with Fitzwilliam in private, and Eric is now playing nearly every night. He is really serious about gaining independence, for besides performing at night he and Georgiana insist on keeping their own books and learning about investments by day. The concerts are just for another month and a half, but it's hard work anyway. But Eric is right, after their summer at Pemberley another performer may have taken his place in the hearts of the rich and noble, success like this can be very temporary.

Charlotte has a lot of news to tell them about her life at Hunsford and her family in Hertfordshire, and she loves to describe the little things she has prepared for her new baby. Finding herself rather curious how these things go about, telling herself it's for Lydia's benefit that she wants to know, Elizabeth asks many questions about midwives, births, Charlotte has been very open before about things they wouldn't dare ask any other woman, and she has a lot to tell them now. Jane is also listening eagerly, of course she needs to know, too.

Then they are briefly disturbed by Johnson coming in to deliver the day's mail, he respectfully hands Elizabeth a letter then moves back out silently. It seems his improved behaviour has at least outlasted a day.

Checking the envelope, Elizabeth asks her friend and her sister, 'It's from Lydia, do you mind if I check it out quickly?'

Of course the other ladies want to know what news Lydia has, and Elizabeth opens the letter and scans it quickly.

 _My Dear Lizzy,_

 _I was not going to bother you with my troubles since I thought you must have something better to do. Wickham has shown me the newspaper several times when they were writing about you, and Miss Darcy and her fiancée. I never thought you were that interested in fashion but that dress you wore on Jane's wedding was certainly very pretty._

 _But since you wrote to ask I cannot keep silent anymore. A few weeks after our return from Netherfield I started to bleed, and it would not stop. The next day I had terrible pains and Wickham got a doctor. The doctor, a nasty old man with hair in his nose and ears and terrible breath, said I was losing the baby and nothing could be done, except take care of myself so I wouldn't get the fever. My best friend came over and the doctor sent a midwife, and something was born of me that the midwife would not let me see._

 _She said it was better off dead, but Lizzy, I wanted my baby so._

 _I was sick for another day, then got better quickly. My friends are very nice and say I will have a healthy baby next time. But I'm afraid that this is my punishment for not going to church regularly and for being with Wickham before we were married. My friend says that is not true, but how would she know? She's not a minister, is she? Don't worry too much over me, I'm healthy and Wickham is doing well in the ranks. He says he can join the rifles but he cannot afford the commission. I've heard the rifles are very dangerous and with war looming I'm very afraid._

 _Dear Lizzy, if you could spare the time for your little sister, I would be so happy if you could visit. I know it's far but Wickham says Mr Darcy's thoroughbreds can make it in four days. Please give my love to Jane, and don't tell mama what happened, she'll only worry._

 _Your affectionate sister Lydia._

'Oh no, poor Lydia!'

Fitzwilliam looks up in alarm at her exclamation, and Jane and Charlotte send her worried looks.

'Why didn't she mention it before? She's lost the baby! Poor Lydia, she must be in agony, and writing for weeks as if nothing had happened. Why? She wanted this baby so, and with war threatening!

We must go and see her immediately, Fitzwilliam! What if...'

She cannot speak her mind before Jane and Charlotte, but her beloved will know what she means instantly: what if Wickham did force her to take childbane?

'Are you telling me Lydia was expecting, Lizzy?'

Jane didn't even know?

'She didn't tell you? She told me at Netherfield, I supposed she'd told you, too. Then when she didn't mention it in her letters I wrote to ask her specifically, and this is her reply. I thought you knew, Jane.'

'Of course we'll have to go an see her, my love,' Fitzwilliam now observes.

'But it's on the other side of the country, the slow team will take almost a week to get there. We need the thoroughbreds. And we cannot leave in a rush anyway, Elizabeth, we have guests, and Georgie needs a chaperone.

'Bingley and I will be your sister's chaperone, Darcy. Lydia is my sister, too. I suppose it's better if you two go, since she didn't even tell me about her pregnancy, and Wickham got his position on Darcy's recommendation. But we can do our share, and minding your sister will be a pleasure.'

'And Mr Collins and I have both seen enough of Miss de Bourgh to be able to assure Lady Catherine that her daughter is well taken care of. Aren't we, Mr Collins?'

Charlotte repeats what she has said about Miss de Bourgh loud enough for Mr Collins to hear, and he readily replies, 'Yes, my dear Charlotte, you were right yesterday afternoon, when you told me Miss de Bourgh was looking healthy and happy. I could not help but draw the same conclusion myself. And there seems to be such a thrilling bond between her and Mr Manners already, I would not be at all surprised if a very desirable connection were to result for both gentleman and young lady.

He is taking such prodigious care of your cousin, Mr Darcy, I understand why you should want to keep him in the family in any way you could after Miss Darcy made her fortuitous decision and such an eligible gentleman was left standing.'

Incredible, how London gossip reaches even the inhabitants of a humble parsonage in Hunsford. Though Mr Collins ought to be ashamed of himself to read such trash, he's a clergyman!

'So you agree with me that we should go back to Hunsford as soon as possible, to give Lady Catherine relief from her worries? To tell her all about her daughter's current well-being?'

Her marriage has certainly taught Charlotte diplomacy, and though Elizabeth has felt sorry for her, for having made such an awful choice of husband to gain an establishment, her friend still doesn't seem too unhappy. She seems to have found a kind of middle way between guiding him very subtly and ignoring him.

Ever since marrying Fitzwilliam, Elizabeth has sometimes thought she might have offered her friend a home, if only they had known beforehand that Elizabeth would make such a fortunate match. But today she cannot be sorry for her friend anymore that things worked out differently. Charlotte will be very happy as a mother, even if her husband is a pompous ignoramus, much happier than she'd have been as an old maid living on her friend's charity.

'Yes, my dearest Charlotte, I do think you are right. We need to relieve Lady Catherine's worries as quickly as possible, I'll send for her Ladyship's carriage immediately, have it prepared for our return tomorrow.'

And with that heartening promise, his attention is back to the music.

'I still think we should wait for the thoroughbreds, Elizabeth,' Fitzwilliam observes. 'If I send an express we can have them over in three days, four at the most.'

'In three days we can be at Pemberley ourselves, can't we? Even with the slow team?'

He's not happy at all to have to use those solid mares outside town, but Elizabeth does not want to lose any time, poor Lydia needs her.

'Dear Lizzy, there is no need to rush. Lydia knows you cannot come immediately, and remember, she isn't in any danger now. Better take a little time to arrange things, it's quite a drive and you may encounter bad weather that far north. Please do be safe!'

Well, that only proves Jane's sense, it would indeed be foolish to rush into things in the middle of winter. Better make careful arrangements than be sorry afterwards.

'Of course you are both right,' she admits to her sister and her husband, 'we should take enough time to plan this trip. It's not a mere morning's drive like going to Hertfordshire. You arrange things as you think best, my love, and I'll write to Lydia that we're coming as soon as we can. You are coming with me, aren't you? It does mean meeting Wickham again.'

'I promised you I'd get Wickham into the rifles if at all possible. I understand your sister doesn't like the idea, but she's not the one on the battlefield. If he wants to distinguish himself despite the danger I can only applaud that. Despite not looking forward to having to notice him again, he is family.

But I cannot do without you anyway, my love, you know that. This may take as long as a fortnight and we haven't been away from each other for more than a day since we got married. Besides, travel in winter may be dangerous, I want to make sure you're safe.

Let me send an express to Pemberley to have the thoroughbreds brought to London for a long trip, and we'll leave as soon as they get here. That will give us time to make arrangements for Georgiana and be good hosts to your friend and cousin. I have certain obligations to my uncle as well, I did promise to help look after Anne, you know.

I realise she'll probably be just fine with my uncle staying for three weeks altogether, but it feels wrong to just pack up and storm out. Your sister doesn't seem in any danger, and she will not expect us to arrive within a week. I'm kind of curious how things work out with Anne, and I really want to attend Mr Goodfellow's lecture on Renaissance music on Wednesday. I think it's my duty as Fielding's patron to be seen at these occasions. Scruffy little Goodfellow will be very important to Fielding when he returns to London in fall, he'll remind the people how entertaining Mr Fielding's concerts are. Let's give him all the attention he may feel entitled to from his new friend's patron.

If we plan to leave coming Thursday there will be plenty of time to arrange everything to our liking.'

Darcy busies himself that day with making arrangements for their trip to Newcastle, while Manners enjoys himself hugely with Mr Collins. They talk politics, religion and discuss what makes a man noble, and Manners even manages to get a word in edgewise. Maybe that is because Mr Collins keeps getting distracted by Georgie's and Fielding's continuous playing, on the piano-forte but also on the harpsichord.

'I don't think I'll ever get used to how you all keep talking whilst a true master reaches out to the very heavens with his precious gift.'

Despite being rather busy, Darcy cannot help but laugh at the exasperated remark.

'I've lived with four hours of practice each day ever since Georgiana discovered the piano-forte when she was about nine. If I hadn't learned to ignore piano practice I'd have gone raving mad before a month had passed. Her first efforts didn't sound like she does now, you know. And of course Fielding is even better, but when he practises he also repeats one bar of music for as much as an hour at a time, which to me sounds just the same when he finishes as when he started. And I guess we're up to six hours a day now, though I must be fair, they practise at least two of those hours upstairs in Fielding's room.'

Mr Collins' expression shows he does not approve of two young people all by themselves. But Darcy is not going to excuse himself to a man like Mr Collins, he is the master of this household and he does as he sees fit. He knows Georgie and Fielding exchange a few kisses and share the occasional embrace, but he also knows they will not cross the boundary of decency. Fielding would never blemish his muse by touching her inappropriately. He may even be superstitious, afraid to lose his inspiration, lots of truly gifted people supposedly are.

Before Elizabeth and Mrs Collins tire of each other's company, it's time to dress for dinner with their guests, uncle Spencer, Fitzwilliam and surprisingly, Anne, who will attend dinner with her family and return to her friends after the concert tonight. Apparently those Blackwood girls visit every single one of Fielding's concerts that they are invited to or their father allows them to buy tickets for.

Darcy has decided to include Bingley and Jane in the party, soon they will be separated from his friend and sister-in-law by the arrival of summer, better enjoy each other's company while they still can.

With the entire party assembled in the drawing-room, Elizabeth has to finally conclude she does like Lord Compton a lot. Miss Anne must have complained to him of her mother sending Mr Collins to impose on his relations to spy on her daughter, but the old gentleman does not show the slightest sign of disdain towards Elizabeth's fawning cousin. He is patient with Mr Collins' windy address, and he is positively kind towards Charlotte, who of course cannot help being ashamed of her husband bowing and scraping to the Earl, engrossing that noble guest's attention far longer than etiquette allows.

'Mrs Collins, so nice to meet you!'

The Earl finally concludes Mr Collins' monologue on his patroness by addressing his wife. Of course the chubby man cannot do anything else than accede to the illustrious Lord Compton's wishes and finally shut up.

'And you have such a lovely new dress, too! Anne told me all about your little shopping expedition, she was so sorry you were too tired afterwards to drink coffee and discuss that little trip, but I'm sure you two can make up for that tonight and talk to your hearts' content. You look much better now, very well-rested. I hope you will be able to accompany us to the concert later, I'm looking forward to going out, haven't done that for at least a year and likely more.'

What is that all about? It's funny to see Mr Collins staggered with all the attention his lady receives from a veritable Earl who on top of his lofty title is Lady Catherine de Bourgh's brother, but still Elizabeth is more intrigued by Lord Compton's hints that something remarkable happened during that shopping trip that Miss Anne and Charlotte will want to talk about. Share confidences about, actually, that is more or less what the Earl is hinting at.

Did something happen? Two women who were dying to look good in a new dress found what they were looking for, but Elizabeth hasn't seen anymore more spectacular than that. Oh well, she is certain to find out, Charlotte has always confided in her.

And pretty soon Charlotte and Miss de Bourgh are indeed seated together in the little corner of the room that is perfectly suited to having a very private conversation. Their talk seems to be very animated, and Elizabeth cannot help thinking Miss de Bourgh should have spent so much time on Charlotte before, it would have made her life at Rosings much more enjoyable. Charlotte is truly worthy of attention from such quarters, her parents aren't rich, but her family is respectable enough. As respectable as old Mrs Jenkinson's undoubtedly.

But maybe Miss de Bourgh needed to be shaken loose from Rosings, or from her attachment to Fitzwilliam, before she could start showing some signs of life. And of course it was never in Charlotte's power to initiate a friendship with Miss de Bourgh, the latter being of such high rank. Never mind the past, though, it's good to see the two of them finally connecting, though Elizabeth does wonder what they are talking about in their private little corner.

Elizabeth so wants to watch them together, but her attempts are foiled by Lord Compton and his younger son keeping her attention on themselves giving their opinion on a matter that concerns Elizabeth very much since her youngest sister is involved: Wickham's promotion to the rifles.

Only now does Elizabeth understand that Fitzwilliam used his connection to the Colonel to gain Wickham his position in Newcastle in the first place. Lord Compton seems to have had something to do with it as well, but Elizabeth cannot as yet put her finger on his exact role in Wickham's career. He does seem to be very knowledgeable on the subject of army life.

'Of course being in the rifles means living with constant danger, Mrs Darcy, they look for weaknesses in the enemy lines and exploit them, or even create them. But they are trained very well and have the best resources. And they are our best hope to counter the French troops and therefore command a lot of respect. Your brother-in-law could do much worse than join their ranks, it's a great honour even to be considered.

From what Darcy and yourself told me about this fellow I wouldn't have thought he'd measure up to their standard, Fitzwilliam.'

The Earl also seems to know more about Wickham than Elizabeth expected, of course the Colonel knows about Georgiana's planned elopement with Wickham, and apparently his father has also been told.

'Frankly, father, Mr Wickham has done much better than I would have expected from one of his ilk. I knew him as a child, of course, and met him once much later, when Darcy asked me to help get him a commission. Since then I have been kept abreast of his development regularly, you know, to stay ahead of things. He strikes me as a sensible, intelligent man whose main vice is his inability to restrain himself in the face of boredom and temptation, which is strange, since his father had a reputation for being a very stable man. But the rifles will keep Mr Wickham constantly occupied, preventing him from falling into that trap again.'

That is mostly said to his father, but then he faces Elizabeth and continues.

'Though the battlefield is always dangerous, Mrs Darcy, I'd prefer to be a low officer in the rifles over the same rank in the regular infantry. A smart man who cares for his men can advance quickly in the rifles, and in the field even the junior officers are allowed to make a lot of independent decisions. Which, as you will get immediately, saves lives, the battlefield is no place to stand by waiting for orders from up the chain, situations change quickly and being able to react instantly can mean the difference between life or death.'

Talking about his professional life shows the Colonel at his most dignified and adult, and Elizabeth is impressed with his bearing.

'Apparently the privates like Mr Wickham and trust him, and so far he has managed to steer clear of the vices that cost him in the past, women and gambling. I beg your pardon, Mrs Darcy, I suppose I shouldn't talk about such things in the presence of a lady.'

Frankly, Elizabeth is glad to be treated like an adult and a human being, and she doesn't hesitate to let the Colonel know. Everyone expects her to be impertinent anyway.

'I'm actually very glad my brother-in-law is behaving, Colonel. And I find it very refreshing to talk as equals, I do my best to act like a lady so as not to bring shame upon my husband, but it can be very hard not to be taken seriously. Thank you.'

'You are a delight to all of us, Mrs Darcy.'

The Earl seems to think Elizabeth's heartfelt expression of gratitude some kind of joke, but she has no chance to feel indignant, for he adds cheekily, 'And since we don't need to walk on verbal eggs around you, Mrs Darcy, let me add that Mr Wickham always shared his preference for loose women and gambling with my own lamented brother-in-law Richard Darcy. According to my poor sister Anne that was not a coincidence. Though she never shared her suspicions with anyone but me, if she was right, she was not the only victim of her husband's escapades. Seen in that light, Fitzwilliam, I would go so far as to call Darcy and your exertions on Mr Wickham's behalf no more than the poor man's due.'

Is he suggesting what Elizabeth has suspected for some time now? Well, that is enough to shock both herself and the Colonel. Still, there is no proof, and the Colonel's reaction really brings home to her that it would be wise to keep these speculations from Fitzwilliam until there is. She decides to explain in a way that will mislead the Colonel, he may discuss these things with Fitzwilliam and she doesn't want her beloved to become upset without proof.

'Mr Wickham did tell us one time that the late Mr Darcy used to take him on certain trips to the seedier parts of town. While Fitzwilliam was learning how to run an estate.'

This explanation pacifies the Colonel, but Elizabeth wants Lord Compton to know she has picked up what he really meant to say, so she adds.

'It's usually the elder son who gets to bear the responsibilities of an important family, is it not, Lord Compton?'

The Earl certainly takes the hint, for he replies, 'That is the undisguised truth, Mrs Darcy. But since he is also the one to profit most from the estate, it seems more than fair that he does the lion's share of the work. Younger sons are often left much worse off.'

Of course this is a sore point for the Colonel, who concludes this shocking part of the discussion with a heartfelt, 'Amen to that. Let us get some dinner, talking makes me hungry.'

It is difficult to let the subject go, but Elizabeth will do it, she has no doubt the Earl will get back to her about this and then she will find out the truth of the matter. But for now she will forget all about it, they have company and dinner is served.

Dinner is a truly superior affair, Cook has once again found that perfect balance between sensible food and impressive dainties worthy of Fitzwilliam's status in life. The new dish is a success, Cook's efforts having developed the recipe Lord Compton's cook wrote down at Fitzwilliam's request into a veritable feast of flavours and textures. Miss Anne certainly seems to enjoy it, and Elizabeth also likes it, boiled cabbage is a menace, but buying greens in winter must be rather difficult in town and prepared like this the humble and plentiful vegetable is perfectly palatable.

And again, Miss de Bourgh is eating much better than she used to at Rosings, and Elizabeth is not the only one to notice.

Miss de Bourgh is seated by Charlotte, after having talked to the latter rather intimately before they moved to the dinner-table. Busy as both ladies are continuing their lively chatting, they do not notice Mr Collins keeping a close eye on the two of them. He's actually quite subtle, despite talking to Frederick on his one side and Bingley on his other, nothing his wife and his patroness' daughter do seems to escape his notice.

Elizabeth, Lord Compton and the Colonel continue their conversation during dinner but in a more general manner, eating and talking, and Elizabeth learns a lot about being in the army. The Colonel truly holds quite a high rank, and when describing the daily routine in a camp, or relating an exciting anecdote from the time he himself was still an ensign at the front of the action, he seems to totally forget the regrets and the lingering affection he has been showing so clearly in Elizabeth's presence. With his father listening in attentively and yes, showing obvious pride in his brave son, Colonel Fitzwilliam is the polite and entertaining gentleman Elizabeth got to know at Rosings.

Of course Elizabeth cannot help checking out the rest of their company once in a while, especially Miss de Bourgh and Fitzwilliam. She expects her beloved to be jealous of his cousin and his uncle, but she is not going to encourage his irrational behaviour by avoiding the Colonel. She is convinced the latter can only get over his infatuation for her by interacting with her in a normal situation, not by watching her from a distance. And if that causes Fitzwilliam one of his strange moods, so be it. If he has one of his tantrums she'll face it as she promised him, by indulging in her own feelings. If he acts like an insecure boy, she'll treat him like one and comfort him.

But for now he controls himself admirably, he's sitting with Jane and Georgiana and seems perfectly fine. It will be such a treat to be together once again for their journey to Newcastle, just Fitzwilliam and herself in the carriage, it will be so much like their honeymoon. Elizabeth doesn't expect Lydia to be in the depths of despair, after her first impulse to rush to her sister's side, common sense once again has taken over. Lydia doesn't feel things as acutely as Jane or herself, she always manages to see the brighter side of things and was probably feeling a bit low or lonely when she wrote that poignant letter.

After dinner there is music, of course. To Elizabeth's surprise it's Georgiana who takes place in front of the piano, Eric sitting down with the others, ready to enjoy the music. But not before he has introduced his beloved rather formally.

'Since I will be entertaining the audience tonight, we've decided Miss Darcy will perform for you in this slightly smaller setting. Enjoy.'

There is no anxiety in Georgiana, she looks the part of the professional pianist. And despite being in her company constantly and hearing her practise for hours each day, every day, when she starts to play Elizabeth is surprised by her proficiency. That is one of Eric's virtuous pieces she's playing, and Elizabeth cannot fault her performance. Georgiana has improved manifold again, and Elizabeth never noticed. Is she developing Fitzwilliam's ability, or disability, to shut out constant playing? How can she have missed Georgiana's huge improvement?

Those two must have been working towards a wholly personal repertoire for Georgiana in the privacy of Eric's apartment, for Elizabeth is absolutely certain she has never heard the next piece her sister-in-law is playing. And the next, Elizabeth doesn't even recognise the style, it must be something Eric discovered through his connection to Mr Goodfellow. Good for them, to have Georgiana play her own music, that way she'll gain self-confidence, not comparing herself to Eric all the time.

The applause is as deafening as a small family-party can produce, and Georgiana looks at Elizabeth in particular. Carefully showing her surprise and admiration, Elizabeth knows Georgiana will explain later.

For now Eric joins Georgiana on the stool and they play their sonata, and another new piece, most likely one of the Bach's from Frederick's bundle. Those two have been very, very busy behind closed doors!

They finish with two harpsichord pieces, a Bach and a very lively assortment of folk-songs, and then they close the lid of the little instrument. That's it, Eric will not be playing solo until the concert tonight. He looks so incredibly proud of his fiancée, they have put so much work in this, without anyone noticing. For Elizabeth no longer reproaches herself for having missed Georgiana's great leap, they have carefully hidden it in duets and lessons, this little show-off was carefully prepared in the deepest secrecy.

As Lord Compton, the Colonel and Miss de Bourgh congratulate their cousin and niece on her virtuosity, Eric approaches Elizabeth with a very broad smile. See, she was right, they kept it from all of them, which frankly required total secrecy in Elizabeth's case, she would have heard.

'We've been putting our freedom to good use, Elizabeth,' Eric offers.

'You certainly did! Most engaged couples sneak kisses in private, but you two secretly prepared Georgiana for her own career as stage-pianist! And you're good, I never suspected a thing!'

'We had the hardest time keeping it from you, I admit. We can fool the rest, but nothing escapes you. But you did doubt yourself for a moment there, didn't you?'

'Have you been watching me? Yes, I did. I even blamed myself for not noticing before, until I started to realise I would have heard, you did it all in private. How you must have driven that poor girl!'

Elizabeth knows this is not true, but Eric deserves a bit of teasing for keeping this from her.

'You'd think that, but in fact Georgiana is much worse than I am. She drove herself much harder than I would dare, and worse, she wore me to a thread keeping up with her. She could sit back and enjoy the show at night, but I had to coach her all day, then work the evenings.'

It is obvious Eric doesn't mean this at all, but in a way he is right, he works evenings as well as mornings and afternoons. Not the playing, those concerts are a source of joy for him, but the talking afterwards. Elizabeth has seen him after one of those sessions often enough, totally wrung out. She takes a good, hard look at him to see how he really is doing, but can see no signs of overexertion or anxiety. He seems calm and intensely happy, and undergoes Elizabeth's scrutiny with a little smile, he is such a handsome, charming fellow.

'All right, Elizabeth, I admit. You've seen right through me, I love it! It was Georgiana's idea to choose a number of unique pieces and study them to the highest possible level. I suggested to do it in secret, to surprise all of you. Wasn't she just magnificent?'

He is so much in love, Georgiana is such a lucky girl to have met the perfect match for her.

'She was, Eric, I was stunned by her progress, and her courage to study unique pieces, not try to measure up to your playing all the time. But you must have spent all your time together on her work, aren't you afraid your own development will suffer for this?'

'Mrs Darcy, you noticed! I'm so sorry, Elizabeth of course, still working on that. You would notice, if anyone would. It is true, I have been neglecting my own studies a bit, there is not much hope for me to find a suitable tutor any time soon, so I've decided to make the most of my current fame and postpone my ambitions for a few years.

I still want to be the best pianist ever, but it can wait until Georgiana has developed enough to benefit, too. You know, Elizabeth, since Georgiana and I are allowed to love each other, those other things seem a little less important somehow. I mean, I love playing the piano, and I love being one of the best players in England. But I also love composing, and despite what you may think, I love teaching as well. I do! I can see you don't believe me, but I do, and I will learn how to adjust to my pupils' ambitions, not their potential. Remember your sister? I didn't ride her at all, did I?'

It's true, he didn't drive Mary to her limits, he merely advised her several pieces and tried to help her to improve her technique.

'I remember, you didn't drive her as hard as you tried to do to me.'

He smiles, a bit embarrassed, but also rather cheekily.

'Darcy was right, no-one can force you to do anything, Elizabeth. I tried and I failed miserably. You know I thought it was a waste of your potential, but in the end it was you who taught me something important; there are other things in life besides playing the piano. And I'm very glad you and Darcy and Manners are prepared to do those things so Georgiana and I can play the piano all day anyway.'

Such a saucy remark, he must have caught some of Elizabeth's impertinence, or maybe he got it through Georgiana. Well, it will not do him any harm, despite what he says he has become a lot more self-reliant since he moved in with them, and he is still very likeable.

By now, Georgiana moves closer to her beloved to share the attention and the praise of especially Mr Collins with him. Elizabeth finds herself addressed by Charlotte, who takes her to their own quiet little corner of the drawing-room and immediately starts to explain what all the fuss was about. Tone conspiratorially, she starts, 'You must have seen me talk to Miss de Bourgh a great deal, Eliza.'

Elizabeth nods calmly, eaten up alive inside by curiosity until Charlotte elaborates.

'When we bought those lovely dresses, and your manservant was offering both Miss de Bourgh and myself accessories to try on with them, I caught Mr Manners staring in our direction in absolute adulation.'

So they did catch him at it. Elizabeth can barely keep herself from swearing, she has come to like Frederick a lot, and it is painful to realise what such a tiny slip can cost him. But Charlotte is not done.

'Of course he wasn't looking at me, he was admiring Miss de Bourgh! She saw it, too, and came to the same conclusion. That dress was very becoming, and she has gained a lot of colour and spirit. I can imagine a man admiring her now, and Mr Manners is not a very handsome man, though he is by far the kindest gentleman I ever met.

So, Eliza, what do you think? Does Mr Manners admire Miss de Bourgh? She tells me she quite likes him and wouldn't mind getting an offer from him.'

With an effort, Elizabeth forces herself to look interested and even credulous. Apparently they don't even consider a man admiring another man, which is good. But at the same time Charlotte hardly seems to have noticed Simon, though he did her a very great service finding her two flattering dresses and matching accessories. Somehow Elizabeth is disappointed to find her friend refusing to acknowledge servants as human beings.

'You didn't expect your friend to admire Miss de Bourgh?' Charlotte inquires, having caught her displeasure, most likely.

Elizabeth tries to sound nonchalant as she replies, 'He doesn't strike me as the type to fall in love head over heels, no. He is very worldly-wise, Charlotte. Though he is kindness itself to everyone around him, and generally well-liked, I don't think he is very likely to commit himself to just one person.'

In fact Elizabeth believes Frederick will be as faithful to Simon as Fitzwilliam is to her, but it won't do any harm to sow some doubts with the two eager ladies, be it on a different front than where the real trouble lies.

'Well, you know him better than we do,' Charlotte replies, a bit disappointed to have her news received with less enthusiasm than she hoped. But since she was actually right about Fitzwilliam, that time in Hunsford, she may decide her friend Eliza is just not very good at reading men, and stick to her conviction that Mr Manners admires Miss de Bourgh. He did look at her as if he was struck with her after all.

Soon after this conversation they set out for the concert, and Elizabeth makes a resolution to warn Frederick that every kindness directed at her will cause Miss de Bourgh to entertain expectations of him. His familiarity when dealing with practically anyone may very well confirm her suspicions and make her determined to get him.

Mr Collins certainly seems to wish for the connection, but he is very quick to see an advantageous marriage, as the unfortunate rumours he spread to Lady Catherine after Jane's engagement to Bingley proved. Though in a way they were the ultimate means of uniting Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth, by provoking the Lady to pay her unsolicited visit to Netherfield and afterwards to Fitzwilliam in London.


	76. Chapter 76

Chapter 86

Fitzwilliam is waiting to hand his beloved wife into the carriage, and Elizabeth can easily discern that he has been in knots over her, though he is wisely trying to hide his feelings. It's just that she knows him so well, he cannot hide his slightly needy mood from her. But Elizabeth has decided not to hold his jealousy against him, the Colonel does often show his feelings too clearly, and he tends to seek her company a little more often than is strictly decorous.

And it's so easy to treat him well, her beloved, he is so handsome and so admirable. She secretly snuggles against him in the carriage, artfully covering his lap with her shawl so she can slip her hand under it and fondle his thighs just a tiny bit. That does the trick, he calms down instantly, and his bearing returns to his usual proud independence.

'I bet Bob was very pleased to hear we are planning a long trip with the thoroughbreds?'

Let Charlotte wonder who Bob is, if she pays attention she may find out. Mr Collins is watching London speed by through the window, he looks almost cute in his enjoyment of the city by night with all the lights and the people walking about in their best attire, the ladies with their beplumed hats, the gentlemen's moustaches artfully coiffed.

No, Fitzwilliam is cute, still relishing Elizabeth's naughty hand on his trousers, he'll kiss her as soon as he thinks no-one is watching. His reply sounds as sedate as ever.

'He was, very much so. He did worry about Fanny for a moment, I guess he's hoping we'll take her along. I didn't promise him anything, I suppose you want to be alone with me as much as I want to be with you. And it's not exactly good form to let a girl ride that kind of distance on the box. I'm not going to take Simon, that's a certainty, a shaking dog will not impress soldiers, they'll just think I'm soft. But we may need at least one attendant, I suspect lodgings may be rather bare in an army town, though undoubtedly picturesque.

I can't wait until next Thursday, my love.'

Fitzwilliam is whispering now, fortunately Mr Collins is still totally absorbed by the city sights, and Charlotte seems to be dozing off.

'To be on the road once more, just the two of us, it'll be like our honeymoon all over again, only better since we've grown so close. I'm sorry if it sounds selfish, my love, but I've had to share you with too many others lately. It'll be such a joy to have you to myself.

I'm going to thank your sister for offering us this chance to be together.'

Before Elizabeth has the chance to do more than take his hand and squeeze it to show him she feels exactly the same, Mr Collins turns towards her and observes, 'You are a very fortunate young lady, my dear cousin. I have often observed that but few people are given the chance to significantly better themselves. But you find yourself in such superior society, and I flatter myself with having been one of the main instigators of your rise in fortune.'

By ruining his proposal to herself? Elizabeth wonders if that is what's on his mind. But her cousin seems to have totally forgotten that unfortunate event, as well as Fitzwilliam's presence, for he explains proudly.

'By inviting you to my humble parsonage and bringing you into Lady Catherine's exalted circle, you came into such close contact with her nephews as to leave them with no choice but to acquire a value for your personal advantages. A fleeting acquaintance such as you had with Mr Darcy could never have offered him a chance to fancy himself in love with you, especially not with your superior elder sister so much more deserving of the attention. Without the advantages my connection to Lady Catherine de Bourgh gave you, you would never have succeeded in gaining such a remarkable influence over a gentleman of as noble a family as the Darcy's of Pemberley.

Mr Darcy seems to admire you very much, my dear cousin, even to such an extent that he quite overlooks that certain pertness you still display all the time, at least in your own circle. I suspect he has addressed it more adequately in public, or the papers wouldn't be raving about Mrs Darcy's fine personality.'

Before Elizabeth has time to phrase a suitably scathing retort, a lazy, deep baritone drawls from behind her.

'I'll have you know I was head over heels with your cousin months before Mrs Collins invited her to Hunsford.'

Mr Collins' look of surprise at discerning Fitzwilliam is extreme, and Elizabeth cannot imagine how he forgot his host was sitting right next to Elizabeth.

'But you are right that Miss Elizabeth's pert way of addressing my aunt captivated both myself and Colonel Fitzwilliam to form an even more lasting attachment to your cousin. Imagine someone brave and foolish enough to insult the character of the favourite of London high society, they'll not only have my influence and connections to contend with. I'm almost certain my cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam Compton will feel obliged to call out such a knave to a personal duel. Of course I'll gladly leave the rigours of a fight of honour to my superbly trained cousin, he has so much more experience in all forms of conflict. I know he's an avid fencer as well as an expert marksman.'

It seems Fitzwilliam objects to Mr Collins' veiled insults on Elizabeth's person. Good. And it seems her cousin can understand a reproof when hit over the head with it.

'You seem surprised, Mr Collins, at hearing me defend Mrs Darcy's right to talk back to whomever she likes,' her beloved observes, continuing in a very serious voice.

'I love Elizabeth's impertinence, and she has promised me to always tell me what she has on her mind. You don't have to like that, and you don't have the right to patronise her. No-one has, not even me.'

There is no reply from Mr Collins, he merely bows his head in acceptance, his superior attitude towards Elizabeth vanished. What a mean little fellow he is, never again will she be fooled by his intense enjoyment of music or a picturesque part of town. She thought he had some sense of beauty after all, but it must have been the status of those around him that kept him relatively quiet. He will bow to those he deems above him, and then try to tread on those he thinks he below him, starting with all females except Lady Catherine. Well, Elizabeth doesn't need Fitzwilliam's protection, she can handle the bigot all by herself.

For her friend's sake she will not seek a confrontation with her cousin, it will be easy enough to ignore him, spend her time on poor Charlotte, who will have to try and raise her child with her husband undermining her best efforts every step of the way.

Charlotte. She is wide awake and must have heard every word. But Charlotte has been married to Mr Collins for over a year and apparently she is used to his peculiarities, for she does not give a single sign of embarrassment. Fortunately the carriage comes to a halt soon after, and Fitzwilliam hands out not just his beloved, but Charlotte as well. Mr Collins is not yet forgiven for his transgression against Elizabeth, who relishes to see her handsome man treat her like his greatest treasure. No sign of need in Mr Darcy tonight, this is the proud, tall gentleman she fell in love with before she really got to know him.

And Elizabeth is not the only one to spot this change in him. Anne just cannot help keeping an eye on her tall cousin, her life has revolved around him for so long, she cannot just shut him out of her life all of a sudden.

Darcy looks really well tonight, it's almost demeaning to see him so spellbound by a woman, he lives and breathes for her, and of course it's a good thing they are so happy together but it's not like her cousin at all to be at the mercy of another human being. And Elizabeth is not yet twenty-one! The way he watches her when she talks with Fitzwilliam and uncle Spencer, he's almost jealous, when it's clear the girl is as smitten with him as he is with her.

How that came about Anne will never understand, Elizabeth is not fickle, or mercenary, and yet Anne could have sworn she hated Darcy when they met at Rosings. She probably made an effort to hide her dislike to keep up appearances, but it was always there, for everyone with the slightest sensibility to see. How on earth did Darcy manage to turn that around?

Come to think of it, he wasn't all that nice to Elizabeth either, Fitzwilliam has told her Darcy was already totally smitten with her, but Anne never saw anything of it, he was aloof towards a mere Miss Bennet, and very conscious of his superiority. Strange, very strange. Something very profound must have happened to make those two come together, but she agrees with Fitzwilliam that they are a very suitable couple.

It's just that she prefers to see Darcy as he looks right at this moment, proud, tall and dignified.

Though he does not look particularly happy about it. His adoring wife does, she seems very pleased with him and doesn't hesitate to show it. It's almost as if she's making a point to someone else, someone who doesn't like public displays of affection.

Ah, Mr Collins, he's the beneficiary of her slightly unseemly behaviour, the obnoxious fellow must have put his foot in it again. Anne will never forgive her mother for sending him to spy on her, Mrs Collins would be quite a pleasing companion but for that horrible little twat who's inexorably connected to her by some hideous invisible bond. It cannot be borne, Anne cannot face living under a roof where people like him are actually wanted, not ever again. Three weeks entertainment under her uncle's protection is all good and well, but it will not do. She is not going back to Rosings, and dull evenings playing cards with Mr Collins and Mrs Jenkinson, bowing and scraping to her tyrannical mother.

'I hope you're not in pain, Miss de Bourgh.'

A pleasant baritone breaks her reverie as Mr Manners touches her arm slightly to draw her attention. He knows whom she is looking at, he must confuse her determination with jealousy of Mrs Darcy.

Anne seriously wonders whether she hasn't always highly overrated personal beauty. Her cousin is so handsome, but after Anne lost her father and her spirit he never did anything to improve her life or her spirit, to ask her how she was doing, to include her in his life.

Manners looks like a wrestler dressed as a minister, but there is so much more to him than meets the eye. At twenty-six, she is forced to recognise that a man's character may be much more important than his appearance, and she has never had the pleasure of meeting a man with such refinement. Well, that's not entirely true, Fitzwilliam is as kind and as well-spoken, but somehow she has never thought of him as a potential match. Because he wasn't handsome enough, her subconscious chides her. As if you're so much to look at!

But now Anne has finally woken up, and has woken up well, it wouldn't do at all to marry a cousin, there has been too much of that in their family for generations. Uncle Spencer has some really interesting ideas on cousin marriages, he was very methodical in his inquiries after her illness, suspecting it to result from the constant consanguineous marriages in their family.

Mr Manners is patient as well as kind, not interrupting Anne's thoughts as she frames a reply.

'Thank you for caring, Mr Manners. I'm not in pain, I merely regret the time I lost waiting for my life to change when I could have changed it myself. I'm very grateful to you for spending so much time on me, it's as if I've known you for a much longer time already, I feel so safe and comfortable around you.'

Oh my, that was a bit much. Now he'll think she has a crush on him, which would be very sad indeed. To fall in love with the first man she meets after being disillusioned about her former object of admiration. Better set that to rights straight away, Anne has had enough of romantic ideals and mooning after men. She wants to get away from her mother, and marriage to a gentleman is the most socially acceptable option, besides being the least bothersome.

Too late, he's already let it sink in.

'I have that effect on people, Miss de Bourgh, I can't help it. It can be very annoying sometimes, people don't see the real me but some image my appearance suggests. Let's call it the minister-effect. But I assure you, there is a really bad boy hidden in this perfectly unassuming gentleman's shell, if you like I'll tell you about my misguided deeds in college, someday soon. The earlier I manage to dispel this bubble of seeming perfection surrounding me, the better.'

He does not misunderstand! Anne's heart goes out to him for a very short moment, then it's back to normal, seeing a potential accomplice instead of a slightly boring, homely gentleman. For Anne is not planning to be a meek wife, kept in seclusion in a country home breeding heirs. Not at all! She is planning to make the most of her family's new fame, and live life to the full.

But how does his dry comment fit with his smitten look the day before yesterday, at the little boutique? Did she imagine that? Mrs Collins saw it, too. A most intriguing situation, and one Anne hopes to be able to solve, but not too soon, for it's too much fun.

'Miss de Bourgh, I commend you for not showing disbelief at my frank confession, I must admit that most people do not believe me when I tell them. And I think I already know your answer, you want to hear me recount my misadventures and gladly. Good. I'll start with the one in which my friends and I had a schoolteacher suspended by setting him up with a room full of ladies of lesser virtue. Let me first assure you he deserved it, you know there is a firm tradition of corporeal punishment in boys' educational establishments?'

Between gathering in front of the venue until everyone of their party has alighted from one of the three carriages they are using, and taking their seats in still-empty hall where the concert will be taking place in half an hour, Mr Manners spins an outrageous tale of six boys driven to despair with unremitting beatings by a sadistic teacher. Deciding to save themselves and the other boys they hire a group of cheap women and lead them into the man's private quarters, then set him up to be caught by the principal. It really sounds too fantastic to be true, but Mr Manners assures her, 'Of course he claimed he was set up by his students, but no-one would believe him, the management just didn't believe a bunch of boys would do such a reprehensible thing.'

'But I thought students had a certain reputation,' Anne claims.

Now Mr Manners looks positively feral and concludes triumphantly, 'Of course, Miss de Bourgh, students are known to pull off pranks like that. But we weren't students by far, we were just schoolkids, the eldest of us had turned eleven a week earlier.'

He is so charming, and so familiar! Another man would be walking the very edge of acceptable behaviour sitting so close to her and resting his hand on her arm, but somehow it doesn't repulse Anne at all in Mr Manners. If only he wasn't so very homely, Anne thinks, she'd gleefully fall in love with him.

But by now Mr Fielding has finished what Anne supposes is his usual routine before a concert, checking the instrument, playing scales, and he has retreated to the small room behind the stage with Georgiana. Well, if it doesn't bother Darcy, Anne's the last person to object to the two of them fondling each other a little before he faces another crowd, they're engaged to be married, and apparently a date has been set for their marriage, right after Georgiana's seventeenth birthday in March. To be married at seventeen, and to such a man, Anne is almost jealous of her cousin, though she realises there are not that many women who could be happy with Mr Fielding. He is handsome, and very sensitive and kind, but he must have iron discipline to have reached his level of proficiency, and spend hours each day perfecting his art. Only someone with the same character and interest could bear with such single-mindedness.

'This will be en entirely new experience for you, Miss de Bourgh,' Mr Manners now observes, 'this is a middle-class venue, and tonight's audience will reflect that. I wonder that Mr Blackwood allows his girls to come here.'

Mr Manners would be shocked to hear what the Blackwood girls get away with. Which is exactly why Anne will do everything in her power to stay their best friend. The little clique of elegant young girls they are part of seems to have their parents' total trust, enabling them to go to some very dubitable places, from which noble maidens should steer clear. Currently, that means their evenings are taken up by following Mr Fielding around wherever he plays, but by day there are other places to go to, and Anne cannot wait to accompany them. They have promised her it will be spectacular, and safe, since they all take a sturdy servant to accompany them.

Yes, a little excitement is just what Anne needs to get her blood flowing again. She still feels languid most of the time, better food and exercise have done her some good, but it is always an effort to go out. The promise of excitement makes it so much easier to find the energy to actually do it.

'It's so much easier to have a sister, Mr Manners, to share the attention of one's parents. And two parents. When papa still lived my mother didn't bother with me all that much. But I have heard Angelina and Sophie are always accompanied by a very dependable servant. That will keep them safe from harm, won't it?'

Never mind trying to sound innocent, Mr Manners apparently knows what the little clique is up to for he snorts and retorts, 'From the most obvious harm, yes. But I have a feeling those girls have a lot more fun than their parents realise.'

'Mr Manners! And you introduced me to them to be my special companions!'

'You're a good bit older than these girls, Miss de Bourgh, and I suspect a good deal more sensible. I gathered you were due some amusement, I supposed you'd had enough drinking tea and doing needlework at Rosings to last a lifetime. But I also want to know what those girls are up to, and you can find out without getting caught up in whatever it is they're doing. Because you are a sensible adult.'

'You're planting me as a spy?'

Anne is merely very surprised. Why would Mr Manners care what those girls are doing?

'Not exactly, Miss de Bourgh, I'm not planning to betray them to their parents. I just want to know. And I suspect it's great fun, of which you are due a large portion. So never mind an old bachelor and have a good time.'

'And remind those girls of their position in life now and then?'

'If at all relevant, you might want to do that, yes. But subtly, they're not your responsibility after all. I'm very aware of the difference between my own college clique and this harmless little group. You'll understand better once I've told you more about our exploits. But society isn't fair to our better gender, I'm afraid, and girls are held to a much stricter code of behaviour.

Miss de Bourgh, I'm a bit of a busybody, if you do not want to pay for your entertainment with a certain responsibility I understand. Just forget what I just told you and let me know whether you want introductions to a less enterprising group of girls, or just want to enjoy this clique without trying to influence them. I'll understand, and merely ask you to stick to certain boundaries of decency yourself as long as you're under my protection.'

So serious all of a sudden. Anne is almost bewildered, this innocuous seeming gentleman has so many layers. Why would he care about other people's daughters? How did he find out what their own parents don't know? And most importantly, what is going on with the Blackwood girls? She likes them, she doesn't want them to be disgraced.

'Never mind, Mr Manners, I'll do as you ask. I like those girls, and you are right, I never want to see another piece of embroidery again. Thank you for caring.'

And at that exact moment, Angelina and Sophie, and two of their friends, take their seats right behind their own party. Mr Manners must have reserved those seats, for the rest of the hall is already filled up quite nicely. The girls again have a retainer with them, a burly liveried servant about Anne's own age with the neutral expression of someone not there to enjoy the occasion, but to do his job well. Still, those girls should be chaperoned by an older woman of some standing, like her own Mrs Jenkinson. Manners is right, something is going on, and Anne can't wait to find out.

They have five minutes to chat, and then the concert starts. Too bad she hasn't had the opportunity to talk to Mrs Darcy about Mr Manners. But maybe it's for the best, this new insight in his character does change everything, he seems more interested in Anne as a sort of spy than romantically. Did she read him wrong in that shop? She and Mrs Collins both? Or does he admire her but keep it hidden for some other unfathomable purpose? Is he testing her by planting her in a clique that apparently does some very naughty things?

Never mind, she'll meet Mrs Darcy again soon, and by then she'll know what the girls are up to, and hopefully have more of an idea of what Mr Manners wants from her.

Since this is a late concert they are all rather tired when Manners removes the last admirers from the hall with his usual diplomacy. Eric is not dissatisfied, playing concerts is still very gratifying, and he does make good money, which is important since he is going to be married soon.

Louise was in the audience again, in the back, with her mother this time. Mrs Zumpe was always good to him, and Eric rues being unable to tell her about his new life, but still he hopes they will not try to approach him to talk to him. There is nothing to be gained from trying to keep up a conversation, surrounded by admirers. It can only result in disappointment for all parties involved.

'Mrs Collins doesn't look to good, Eric,' Georgiana observes, 'look at her sitting there, I'd almost say she's in pain. Better tell Elizabeth, see you in a minute.'

She is right, the poor woman looks awful. If only Georgiana won't get with child too soon after their marriage, she's way too young to go through such an ordeal. Maybe it's a bad idea to get married already, maybe they should wait after all. Georgiana is passionate and strong-willed, there is no way he'll convince her to be married in name only for another year. Already she is exploring physical love to the exact boundaries of an engagement, keeping on the safe side of his ardour but only just. If they hadn't taken up the challenge of bringing her to stage-level within half a year, with her own very personal repertoire, Eric is certain she'd find another challenge, and he wouldn't give himself a dog's chance to resist her overtures.

He's an adult man with adult needs, and somehow this young girl knows exactly how to bring him to a frenzy of passion. Or does she? Does she know what she awakens in him when she strokes his cheeks and nuzzles his throat, then caresses his chest, with his shirt still between her muscular but so incredibly soft hands and his sensitive bare skin? The fever, the passion her touch causes him, it used to be so easy to ignore his drives, he'd just play the piano and they would disappear. But Georgiana won't let him escape her caresses, she insists on kissing him and stroking him, sitting in his lap and snuggling against him.

There is no way he can resist her once they are married.

'Elizabeth says she'll take care of it. Seeing her friend makes my poor sister very nervous, and I'll be glad to see the back of Mrs Collins, too. It's not that I don't like her, and not even to get rid of her horrible husband, it's just such a terrifying prospect that we will at one time find ourselves in the same condition. Will you still love me when I look like that?'

Dear Georgiana, still so obvious a girl, with her blunt way of talking. But Eric is glad she has made the connection, he may still have a chance.

'I'm sure you could never look like that, my love, but I'm afraid you might feel the same in the same condition. And it could happen any moment after we get married. Do you think we should wait a little longer? Until you're a bit older?'

'Certainly not! You're mine! And if that is the price I have to pay for it, I'm more than happy to do so. I'm sure playing the piano is something one can do up until the very last.'

See. Strong-willed his beloved is, she does not raise her voice, but her resolve is more than clear. And Eric doesn't want to wait, besides, not all women suffer that much, do they? Simon said Fanny's mother had several children quite recently, maybe she can tell them a little more about what it is like to live with a baby.

'I think you are right, my love. And I'll love you forever, and help you instead of ignore you to fawn on some gentleman.'

The gentleman in question isn't even very happy with the attention, at least it seems as if the Earl doesn't exactly appreciate the undivided attention of Mr Collins, since he quite bluntly and audibly says, 'Thank you, Mr Collins, now I'd like to have a little conversation with my soon-to-be nephew. If you'll excuse me.'

His tone is cold enough to drop the temperature of the hall several degrees, and not even Mr Collins can fail to take Lord Compton's hint to be gone. But while the Earl's figure is quite imposing as he comes towards Eric with large strides, none of it is directed at Eric, and by the time the old nobleman holds out his hand to Eric he is smiling warmly.

'That was magnificent, Mr Fielding! Now I understand what all the fuss was about! Welcome to the family, my son, you may not be as charming as Mrs Darcy but you are certainly as talented and an asset to our house. Besides, charm is very much a personal thing, and I'm sure most of those ladies appreciate yours much better than I.'

They talk until it is time to go home, and the Earl proves to be quite a good listener with a developed taste in music, though apparently he rarely has the opportunity to listen to music since no-one in his family plays an instrument.

'My late wife used to play the harp and I could sit by and listen to her all night. She taught me about music, and now I've been reminded how much I loved hearing superior music, I will do my best to visit concerts more regularly.'

Just before they enter Manners' carriage they take leave of the Earl and the Colonel, who take their own carriage home. Miss de Bourgh will go with her friends, who seem to be snugly cramped in one carriage, attended by a pair of liveried servants taking their stations on the back of the carriage. Mr Collins is finally spending some time on his wife, helping her to Darcy's carriage, while Elizabeth and Darcy saunter behind them, as close as always.


	77. Chapter 77

Chapter 87

When they arrive home, everyone goes straight to bed. Georgiana pulls Eric into a little nook in the hall and kisses him goodnight with fervour. That'll cost him at least an hour to wind down from, maybe he should talk to her and explain how a man experiences these little tokens of affection. Though it's less than a month until their wedding, maybe he can cope with the sleepless nights a little longer. Or he can play a few scales to unwind, no-one will hear if he sneaks into the drawing-room for half an hour.

Preferring sneaking downstairs to lying awake doing battle with his urges, Eric does indeed make his silent way down the stairs after the house has quieted down. Half-expecting to meet Simon or Mr Manners in the hallway, he is not surprised to hear a small sound in the direction of the servants' quarters downstairs. To prevent embarrassment, he steps back into the shadow to let whoever is about at this hour pass him by undisturbed.

But no-one does, and when he continues towards the drawing-room he can pinpoint the noises to Darcy's study. If there is someone downstairs he can forget about playing the piano in the middle of the night, but that does raise the question: why would Darcy be in his office at night? He is almost certain to not be in there right now, he values his time alone with his wife. That leaves the possibility of an intruder, or a servant snooping, which endangers two very good friends of Eric's likely to be caught at their own sneaking about. Or Georgiana, if it's a burglar. Better take a very careful look, and if it is Darcy after all he can ask permission to play the piano for half an hour, to unwind. Darcy'll think it's from the stress of the concert.

Excited now in a different way, Eric moves towards the study very, very quietly. It's kind of reckless to try and catch out a possible burglar, but if he rouses the house and it's Darcy after all, he'll make a nice kind of fool of himself.

Fortunately the door is left slightly ajar, and there is a light in the study. A burglar would not use a lamp, and with a little more daring Eric opens the door entirely, to find a nervous, dark figure rifling through the drawers of Darcy's desk. It's smaller than Darcy, and his patron would never rifle through anything in this room, he knows exactly what is where. Feeling a need for a witness, Eric quickly withdraws and enters the servants' part of the house, hoping to find Manners in Simon's room. A soft knock proves enough to get a reaction, but since Manners is not exactly supposed to be here, there is no reply. Someone is moving towards the door, though, and when Eric expects that person to have reached the door he says softly, 'It's Eric, there is someone in Darcy's study.'

The door opens and Manners comes out, still dressed, he must also have waited for the house to quiet down before moving downstairs.

'Simon's already asleep, we can handle it by ourselves.'

He sounds grim, as if he knows who it is in Mr Darcy's study. Once on their way, Manners moves much more quietly than one would expect of such a powerful man, and Eric is happy to fall in line beside him. No careful probing for his companion, Manners merely pushes the door open with force, then enters the room.

'Stay right where you are, Mr Collins!' Manners bellows.

Mr Collins? What could he be looking for in Darcy's office?

The tubby little fellow is now easily recognisable, staring at the two of them in guilt and fear.

Manners closes the distance between them in three long strides, grabs him by the collar of his coat, and orders, 'Fielding, check his pockets. And his clothes. Very thoroughly.'

'I was just looking for a few stamps! I didn't do anything! I'm a man of the cloth, I'm above your suspicion, how dare you imply that I would steal anything!'

Valuables then, or plain hard cash. Trusting Manners to know how far one can go with the cousin of one's host, even if he is so only by marriage, Eric starts with Mr Collins' coat, finding all the pockets and turning them inside out. A wad of bills falls out, and the man colours, then calls out defensively, 'That's mine! I already had that before I came in here!'

Eric picks up the roll, then walks to a certain cabinet, taking the lamp. He opens the third drawer from below, then a little box inside. It contains several neat envelopes, still sealed shut, and nothing else. With a heavy feeling, he marches back to Manners and hands him the roll of bills.

'That's your payment for the concert yesterday, I recognise the way it's bound together.'

'The girl was so proud of the pretty bow she'd tied in the ribbon. Said even money could be made to look nice. We just put it in the money box yesterday, there was no time to seal it away.'

'Better count the envelopes then, Eric. But first we turn the rest of his pockets as well.'

That seems to really upset Mr Collins, and he dares to struggle. In vain, of course, Manners is much stronger and in no mood to be lenient. Eric thinks he knows why, the very idea of this creep roaming the house at night must make his friend's blood run cold.

But hidden in one of the helpless man's garters is another item, it feels like paper rolled up, and at Manners' imperious gesture to get on with it, Eric loosens the man's trousers and retrieves what turns out to be exactly what it felt like.

'Let me do the rest, Eric. I'm afraid you may be too nice to thoroughly search a man. You check out that parchment, it looks official. If it's still sealed, do not break the seal.'

'It was sealed, but the wax has been broken.'

Manners really knows how to search a man from top to bottom, Eric isn't squeamish, but he is afraid his tall friend will include the preacher's private space in his search. He must have shown his disgust, for Manners laughs heartily, and observes, 'Eric, I didn't know you were so worldly-wise!'

Forgetting the seriousness of the situation for a moment, Eric cannot help joining his friend, his laughter is so infectious.

'I went to school, too, you know.'

That sets them off again, and Manners suggests, 'If that is the case, I may have to check the ultimate hiding place after all; this fellow went to school, too. Though I guess he never had friends who needed to smuggle certain items in and out of the building. Or friends of any kind. I guess he may have had quite a rough time at school, with the other guys amusing themselves at his expense.

Anyway, I don't think he expected to be caught, so I suppose it's safe to assume this is all he took. I guess Darcy will draw the line somewhere with what we can do to his house guest, even is he is a thief.'

Eric doesn't dare open the parchment he is holding, but Manners doesn't hesitate for a moment. He takes a few moments to read, then swallows hard.

'I'm going to retract that last statement. Darcy will have his hide for lunch. He's only a cousin by marriage, you see, and he stands to inherit Mr Bennet's estate through entail. They're not very attached to him or anything. You go get Darcy, I'm keeping an eye on this deplorable fellow. He'll be very, very sorry you caught him, for a very long time. What were you doing out here in the middle of the night anyway?'

Ignoring Mr Collins, Eric answers truthfully.

'I was going to play scales on the drawing-room piano for half an hour. My fiancée doesn't realise that it's difficult to find sleep after she has kissed me with a certain fervour, and I haven't the heart to tell her. Playing scales always calms me down instantly.'

'So that's what saved your virtue on that excursion to Grenfell's house. I did wonder at your self-control.'

Eric ignores that, it is not a night he cares to remember too well.

'When I got down here, I heard noises and went to investigate. That's about it.'

'I'm glad Georgiana did that to you, Eric. Now hurry up and get Darcy before he's asleep.'

This is a right mess to find going on in a good man's home. If Eric hadn't caught the creep, who would have been blamed for the theft? Johnson, the butler, is still a bit of a suspect in the house. And what is in that paper that caused even Manners to blanch at the thought of it being stolen?

It must be past one by now, but there is nothing for it, Eric needs to knock.

'Who's there?' a sleepy female voice asks.

'It's Eric, Elizabeth, we need Darcy. There's a situation downstairs. With your cousin.'

Fortunately she does not ask for an explanation.

'I'll see if I can wake him up.'

He's already asleep? Oh my, now they can only hope he isn't one of those people who wake up ill-humoured.

After a short while, and some mumbling behind the door, it opens, and Darcy comes out in a dressing-gown.

'You may want to dress for this, Darcy,' Eric dares suggest. That wakes him up nicely, he looks worried, but he doesn't ask for an explanation either and merely goes back in, to return almost immediately, dressed in a pair of his usual tight trousers, and shirtsleeves.

'No coat?'

'I don't need a coat to deal with the likes of him. Will you tell me what has happened, or do you prefer that I wring it out of him?'

'You know what he has done?'

Eric can hardly believe it.

'I suspect he has been snooping to find stuff to damage Elizabeth's reputation. He will regret it. Mr Collins fears my aunt Catherine, but even after a rather overbearing warning yesterday, he doesn't yet fear me. Or my cousin Fitzwilliam. Or my uncle.'

'Well, for the moment he is dealing with Manners, and I suspect that gentleman has already installed some fear of you in him. Besides, I suppose I'd rather cross the lot of you than Manners. You can have him defrocked for what he has done, but I suspect Manners may have the King's ear.'

'Defrocked? It's that bad?'

Darcy's voice sounds bleak, but that may be fatigue. The poor man was fast asleep after all.

By now they have reached the study and Darcy barges in, much like Manners did earlier.

Mr Collins is in a chair, miserable and small, Manners towering over him.

'All right, I'm here. Fielding told me very little but I can make an educated guess. He caught you rifling through my papers, looking for documents to discredit your cousin, my wife, in the eyes of the world. Did you succeed?'

Darcy is really frightening, icy cold, and the chubby clergyman cannot do more than gape at him in abject fear. Of course Manners is not impressed, he's very self-assured, but Eric does feel a bit intimidated by his patron's attitude. Mr Zumpe got off lightly, that's a certainty.

A roll with a broken seal is handed over the table. Darcy doesn't even open it, he knows exactly what it is.

'You gave up your connection to one of the most respected families in England for this? Elizabeth doesn't even know about it! It's useless to you, it proves nothing!'

'It proves you are an even better husband than I thought I knew. I salute you, Darcy.'

Manners bows to his friend, with profound respect. Eric almost wishes he knew what is in that little sealed roll of paper.

'I want you out of my house before breakfast. I will write my aunt to tell her what her ludicrous prejudice against my beloved will cost you. Be glad I will not sue you for damages.'

He looks at Manners, who is trying to catch his attention.

'There is more? More private documents?'

'No, Darcy. Plain theft. He had his paws in Eric's money box. I guess you'd better search Mr Collins' room, too, and count your petty cash. Jewellery, too.'

Darcy sits down on his desk, face in his palm.

'Now I understand the defrocking, Eric. Spying for my petty aunt is one thing. Stealing from you is another. You worked very hard for those fees. Imagine discovering it gone tomorrow. We might even have blamed Johnson, or one of the hired maids. And you caught him at it together?'

'We did, Darcy. And the birthday-girl made a pretty gift of the bills, it was unmistakeably Eric's.'

Shaking his head, Darcy looks at the miserable round-faced clergyman.

'Why? Why steal Eric's money? You've seen him work for it, all day and all evening. You're a man of God! How can you live with yourself? Can you imagine what Lady Catherine will do when she finds out?'

The coldness is gone, now. Somehow Darcy takes this a lot more seriously than the document.

And Mr Collins does, too. He whispers something, Manners bending over to hear it.

'He says he needed the money, and he didn't know it was Eric's or he wouldn't have taken it.'

Manners' sarcasm may be even scarier than Darcy's rage, he knows everyone who matters, he can truly break a man. Voice dripping contempt, he addresses Mr Collins.

'Well, at least it wasn't personal, I'm sure your patroness will see the difference between stealing from a gentleman and robbing an artist.'

Another whisper.

'He says there were some irregularities in the way he gained his University title, and someone found out and wanted money to keep quiet about it.'

'You are in deep trouble, Mr Collins.'

The way Darcy says the honorific it speaks of distance rather than respect.

'Out of respect for my beloved's friendship with your wife I would merely have severed all contact between you and my family. But if Lady Catherine finds out you have been stealing, or that your competence may be in doubt, you will lose your patronage and run a serious risk of becoming destitute. You will be thrown on the mercy of Sir Lucas, who has enough mouths to feed as it is. You will never find another situation, no-one will hire you, not even as a clerk.

Have you stolen other things in this house? I advise you to speak the truth, for we will search your room, tonight. And I will request Simon to count the petty cash tomorrow. Elizabeth can check her own jewellery. Now tell us, quickly.'

Surprisingly, now that all seems lost, Mr Collins does not grovel. Does he realise this would most likely agitate Darcy even further?

'I have not. I decided to nose around tonight because we were set to leave tomorrow. I never intended to take money until I saw it lying there. Lady Catherine didn't even ask me to do it, I was overzealous, please don't write to her! Our little baby, she will grow up destitute, my poor Charlotte, please don't punish them for my weakness!'

'Why, Mr Collins, why target Elizabeth?'

'She refused me! And not just that, she looked at me as if I was a worm, beneath her notice. When she had nothing! She should have thanked me on her bare knees, but she scorned me. And then she caught you. The way you look at her, the way you worship her, it's just not right. A woman should know her place, not be rewarded for despising her betters.'

'You are not Elizabeth's better, believe me! Eric, do you want satisfaction for the theft of your earnings? It's your choice, you can wreck his life with a single letter to my aunt.'

Who would have thought that in the throes of fear and remorse, Mr Collins would sound just like any other man? But Eric believes the man is sincere, though his apparent hatred for Elizabeth is despicable. Reducing him to less than nothing will not improve him, though, nor will it help his wife and baby.

'I do not want to see him fall that deep. But I do want him brought down a peg or two. He is not better than others, especially not Mrs Darcy. She deserves our love and respect, not petty jealousy. I say let her decide on his fate, since this was aimed at her. She will show him that she is a better person than he is. Mrs Collins has done nothing wrong, she should not suffer for her husband's crimes.'

'Good, I like to see justice done quickly,' Manners observes. 'Let's get on with it, I'm getting tired. You count your envelopes, Eric, and then we'll take this fellow to his room and turn it upside down. The petty cash can wait until morning, can't it, Darcy? Let's not wake the servants.'

But with the four of them stumbling across the hall in the dark, and Manners thoroughly searching every piece of furniture in the clergyman's room and every bit of clothing Mr Collins has with him, they do make a bit of noise on the first floor. They find nothing, not by the light of several candles, and Darcy admonishes his unwelcome guest to stay in his room until he is fetched in the morning.

'I have a deja-vu, Manners, of a certain evening at Netherfield. Shall we meet in the little confidence-room at ten? The three of us and Elizabeth?'

'An excellent idea. And now I'm going to my very own room to catch up on some sleep. Good night, gentlemen.'

Eric retreats, too. He will not need to practise scales to wind down, his ardour has left him some time ago, and he is so tired he can hardly find the way to his own apartment.

Darcy, on the other hand, doesn't expect to be able to sleep for at least an hour, yet. He needs to tell his beloved exactly what happened, and then she will have to decide what to do with her cousin. And consequently with her friend. Elizabeth will not be pleased.

But before he has time to do more than sit on the bed and remove his shirt, there is another knock on the door. Barely suppressing a really nasty profanity, he puts the shirt back on and opens the door without asking who is standing behind it.

'Oh Mr Darcy, I'm so sorry to disturb you but so glad you're still up! I didn't want to make a fuss, but since everybody was making a lot of noise anyway I thought I'd feel safer..'

It's Mrs Collins, in a dressing gown that is at least two sizes too small for her current proportion, and she stops talking mid-sentence with her face drawn in pain and her hands clutching her distended belly. Darcy can no longer stop the profanity from entering his thoughts, though he manages to clamp his lips on it.

Oh my God. She's having the baby. Right here in his house, from which he has barred her husband not even an hour ago.

'Elizabeth, I think you'd better put on a dress, quickly.'

By now, Mrs Collins has righted herself and is able to finish her sentence.

'Will you please get me a doctor? I think I'm in labour.'

Mrs Collins looks ready to faint, and Darcy catches her and takes her into their bedroom, to sit in one of the comfortable chairs in front of the fireplace.

'I'm not going to ring the bell, Elizabeth, that'll have everyone in a panic in the servants' quarters. I'll fetch Fanny, she'll know what to do. You give your friend a glass of water. Do you want me to fetch your husband, Mrs Collins?'

He is the last person Darcy wants in his bedroom with his beloved dressed in a rush and looking a tad dishevelled, but the poor woman deserves any support she needs.

'No, please! Leave him be. Please, Mr Darcy, he will not be of any help. Frankly, I can't stand the sight of him, but I knew what I was getting into when I married him and I'm not sorry. Though I fear his influence on our children, he will try to make them into little copies of himself.'

Pain sure has made Mrs Collins open-hearted, Darcy is afraid she will be sorry tomorrow for what she is blurting out now. Fortunately Elizabeth is done dressing, and she signals him to go fetch Fanny, just when Mrs Collins has another one of those pains. Elizabeth doesn't look very much at ease, but there is nothing they can do but find an expert.

Darcy decides not to walk quietly, that will only alert Manners and Fielding and rouse them from their beds again thinking he's Mr Collins back at his snooping. So he just descends the stairs as he always does and enters the servants' part of the house. He is glad Fanny no longer goes home at night, or they'd be in real trouble now. Fortunately she agreed to live with them once her engagement to Bob was official. They're set to get married in March, too, two weeks before Georgie and Fielding, better have Simon pick them a nice gift.

Starting with a soft knock, he soon gets a reaction.

'Is it Mrs Collins? I'm coming, please give me two minutes to get dressed.'

Just incredible. Such a young girl, and so observant. When she comes out of her room, the girl is dressed in a loose kind of gown that doesn't look very flattering, though it is very decent.

'Oh, it's you, Mr Darcy. Thank you for waiting. I just slipped on something comfortable, and not too fine, this may get messy, and it may take a very long time.'

She does not stand around to talk but is moving steadily, talking quietly, and her obvious calm makes Darcy a little less edgy.

'Mrs Collins didn't look very comfortable when you returned from the concert, so I counted on being disturbed. I also took the liberty of looking up the address of my mum's midwife, in case Mrs Collins needs her. I don't think so, though. But we'll see.'

By now they are close to Darcy's bedroom, and he gestures Fanny that her patient is in there.

'She's in your bedroom, sir? That doesn't seem right, I'll take her to her own room first thing, what if she wants to see her husband? I guess the mistress wouldn't like that. There we are.

Good night, Mrs Collins!'

If Mrs Collins hadn't been in the throes of one of those pains, she would have sighed with relief on beholding Fanny. As it is, she cannot hold back a cry of pain, and Fanny quickly takes the hand Elizabeth isn't holding, and lifts the pregnant lady to her feet. Shouldn't she at least wait until the poor woman is over this cramp? As brisk as her actions are, however, her voice is calm and very gentle as she addresses Mrs Collins once more.

'Let me get you back to your own bed, and we'll check how the baby is doing. My mother's midwife taught me how to do that, she thought it a useful thing for every girl to learn how to do.

Steady now, you're doing well. Will you come along, Mrs Darcy? I think Mrs Collins will appreciate that. We may need to send someone over to town, Mr Darcy, Bob can do it.

Now, Mrs Darcy, have you noticed whether those pains came regularly?'

Well, that's it, Fanny has taken charge. What a relief. Darcy considers picking up a book, but he is just too tired to read. He'll bring a chair and stay with the ladies to fetch and carry, maybe take a nap. Just outside the door will be the perfect place to sit waiting.

Waiting would definitely be less boring with a book, but nodding a bit is also quite pleasant. From the room, Fanny's voice still sounds capable and calm.

'So your water didn't break, and the pains are not regular, you say? That is good, for I suppose you'd rather have the baby at home. May I feel your belly, Mrs Collins?'

Before Darcy can get drift away, Fanny says, 'I think your baby is finding the right position, ma'am, it used to be a big high up but it isn't now. I think that caused the pains, they seem to be getting less frequent and less intense.'

'I do think you're right, Fanny,' Mrs Collins observes, no longer in a panic. 'I think I'd like to go back to sleep now, I'm sorry I made such a fuss.'

'Nonsense, Charlotte,' Elizabeth's voice breaks in.

'You were in real pain, it could have been the baby arriving early. I still think we should send for the doctor to be sure. What if it starts again in an hour or so?'

'Begging your pardon, Mrs Darcy,' Fanny dares to gainsay to her very own mistress.

'Yes, Fanny, what is it? No need to excuse yourself, Fanny, you have more experience with babies than both of us put together, so please tell me.'

'Well, ma'am, a midwife would be of more help to Mrs Collins, there are only a few doctors who know about delivering babies and I think they only come when something is not right. Mrs Collins' baby seems fine, and a midwife would be able to find out if that is true.'

'A midwife it is then, Fanny,' Elizabeth says with humour.

'Do you have objections if we have the one who helped Fanny's mother, Charlotte? She won't be a lady, you know.'

'But your brothers and sisters were all healthy, weren't they, Fanny?'

'Yes, ma'am, and Mrs Dales delivered me, and my mum, and most of the children in our street as well. She's very good, even with twins and breeches. Do you want me to send Bob to get her?'

'I feel fine again, actually. But I'd like to see her anyway. Can we send for her tomorrow, Eliza? Or if the pain comes back?'

'If that is what you want, Charlotte, of course.'

'If something happens, you can ring the bell, ma'am. There is one right outside my door, and I'll muffle the other ones so you'll only wake me. Then you don't have to worry about making a fuss. Shall I help you get comfortable now?'

This is Darcy's cue to remove himself, Mrs Collins doesn't need to have a doctor fetched, so he can go back to bed and wait for his beloved there. Right after he has put the chair back in its place, Elizabeth comes back and they snuggle under their blanket. Despite his fatigue, Darcy tells her all about Mr Collins. She doesn't use profanities, but she is angry.

'Can I decide tomorrow?'

'Certainly. You don't mind Fielding leaving it up to you?'

'I think he is totally right. This was aimed at me, so it's right I should be the one to pass the sentence. We can sue him, or we can write to Lady Catherine. I'd like to see him disgraced, I really dislike him.

But it would ruin Charlotte and she deserves better. I have an idea, but I need to think about it a little longer. And this does remind me of Grenfell, and my objecting to Manners' clique dealing out their own justice. Is it wrong, my love? Should we let the law deal with this? I'm too tired to think right, let's go to sleep and decide tomorrow. Poor Charlotte.'


	78. Chapter 78

The next morning, Elizabeth's generally optimistic nature has some trouble asserting itself. What a mess they find themselves in, with Charlotte in distress and not even aware her husband is in trouble. Even if they decide not to take action against him, there is still this vague person threatening to expose some misdeed from the past.

For Charlotte's sake Elizabeth really wants to help, but she is absolutely certain Fitzwilliam will not agree to that. And she knows it's his love for her that makes him so severe, Mr Collins has done his very best to harm her and Fitzwilliam will never forgive him for that. Strangely, she cannot seem to manage to take it all very seriously herself, her cousin is a silly man and she expects him to do silly things. Of course she was angry when he insulted her in the carriage yesterday, and last night when she heard what he had done, but somehow it doesn't really affect her anymore. It's so very easy to just ignore him.

But Fitzwilliam is probably right to be so determined in his actions and since Elizabeth is not going to miss her cousin's presence, she will not try to get him to relent over banishing Mr Collins from the house. Elizabeth certainly will not miss him. But isn't Fitzwilliam a bit too vindictive? He said himself it was a shade in his character. Shouldn't he be a bit more lenient now he has a had a little time to contemplate? Better wait what Frederick has to say about Mr Collins' deeds, maybe Fitzwilliam is taking this too far, he is so very protective of her.

It's his mood, too, that makes her feel a little out of sorts. He has been to see Charlotte early that morning, to inquire after her well-being, but also to tell her about last night. She must have been shocked indeed, for the visit has thrown him into a kind of gloom Elizabeth has never seen him in before. Elizabeth offered to go to Charlotte for him, but he objected to that, said she hadn't been there when they confronted her cousin with his deed.

'Shall we meet Fielding and Manners, my love? They're expecting us,' he asks, voice dull.

'Yes, let's have it over with. But first I want you to hold me for a few moments. It's not your fault, my dear, you didn't do anything wrong.'

He does as she asks and embraces her with feeling, he even rests his head on her shoulder, his warm breath in her hair. His voice is very soft.

'Don't I know it, but the look in your friend's eyes. And I can't even blame her for marrying him, what choice did she have? You were so brave to refuse me in an even worse situation than Miss Lucas'. At least she had a brother to take care of her and her mother and sisters.'

'I try not to think of that too often, my love. I don't think I realised then, fortunately. Do you think we would have been happy if I had accepted your first offer?'

'I certainly would have been. But I'm ashamed to admit you might have suffered at first. I did love you a lot, though, I'm sure I would have improved myself if you had shown signs of unhappiness. The very idea of my exulting in your love and not realising you hated me instead makes me slightly ill. But your father would have talked you out of it, I'm sure.'

'True. Well, let's go decide what to do about my awful cousin. When will they leave?'

'After lunch. I have sent for Fanny's midwife, and if she advises your friend not to travel, Mrs Collins can stay and we'll have Hugo take her home with the slow team. I will not have Mr Collins under our roof another night. I've sent Johnson to bring him some breakfast, at least he can't work any more mischief from his room.'

She knew it, Fitzwilliam may have changed a lot, there are still some things he cannot tolerate, and she should be happy that threatening to harm her is one of them.

After talking to Eric and Frederick, Elizabeth knows what to do. And to spare Fitzwilliam the sight of her cousin, she will take Frederick to the study, where she will have her cousin brought to her to tell him what the consequences of his behaviour will be.

'There was nothing else missing then?' Frederick asks.

'Indeed there wasn't,' Fitzwilliam replies, and then he hands Elizabeth a rolled up sheet of thick paper with a broken seal barely keeping it in that shape.

'This is what your cousin tried to steal, my love. I was planning to keep it to myself, because it's not very likely ever to be needed, and you used to be a bit sensitive over its subject matter. But since Mr Collins now knows about it, I think you should, too.'

Elizabeth unrolls the paper to find a very official document, signed by witnesses and sealed at the bottom as well as on the outside. The language is convoluted, and she has to read it a few times to understand, but also to believe what it says. It's hardly possible! Has Fitzwilliam really reserved twenty thousand pounds for her to live on should he pass away without leaving an heir? No, it's hers anyway, at least as far as she can tell.

For once, Elizabeth is struck totally dumb. The very thought of living without her beloved makes her eyes burn with the horror of it, and to think he'd provide for her in such a way is just too much. Tears threaten, and she lets them fall. Let them see her crying, all three of them, that'll show them she's still a very young woman, almost a girl, yet. Still a certain part of her can't help commenting dryly.

'It would have made Lady Catherine seething mad to read that. I almost wish he had succeeded.'

Her voice does sound unsteady, and Fitzwilliam holds out his hands to her with a face practically melting with love. Then she is lifted bodily and placed on her beloved's lap, again in a warm and comforting embrace. His voice rumbles in his chest.

'Cousin Anne might have come into her inheritance straight away. And my lawyer has the original, this is a signed and sealed copy.

Elizabeth, my love, I just couldn't bear the thought of your being dependent on anyone. I know Georgiana would take good care of you if something happened to me, but still... you need to be able to be you, and for that you must be free. Even our children can turn out differently from what we hope and expect.'

His beautiful hands gently wipe away her tears, and he sounds positively husky.

'Oh my dearest, my love. I love you so much, it breaks my heart to see you cry. It would break my heart to leave you, and I'm not going to, don't be sad.'

'It'll pass, my love. I'm just stunned you'd think of something like that. Thank you so much for your love and your care, Fitzwilliam, I'm so intensely glad you love me, and I love you so much I wish you could be me for a moment to feel it for yourself.'

'Better give me a kiss instead, my love, or my heart will burst and then Lady Catherine will declare you mercenary.'

That breaks the tension a little, and Eric and Frederick laugh heartily. They do seem a bit affected, it must have been a little embarrassing to witness such a private moment, but Elizabeth certainly never expected to be handed such a gift so casually.

'You two are my measure for domestic happiness, Darcy and Elizabeth,' Frederick comments, and he doesn't even sound envious or disappointed to know he is not ever going to have a chance at anything like it.

Eric merely looks a bit confused. She'll explain some other time, now she needs to do her unpleasant duty and browbeat her cousin.

As they leave the little room, Fitzwilliam does not follow her out, but merely blows her a kiss, then seats himself by Eric, talking to him in a soft voice.

Frederick seems to know exactly what they are discussing.

'I suppose he's explaining what the document says, Elizabeth. Your husband wants Eric to feel at home here, and being the only one here to not know would certainly make him feel left out instead. I told Eric to look at it when he'd taken it from your cousin, but he refused. He's a truly righteous man, Mr Collins could learn a lot from him.'

Elizabeth merely nods, she is not looking forward to this at all, though she knows it is something she needs to do or hide behind Fitzwilliam's broad back forever. Just before they enter the study, Frederick takes her hand and turns her towards him.

'Remember, Elizabeth, what you yourself told us only a few days ago: you're not even of age yet, it's not a sign of weakness to find this difficult. You've been under your father's wings until you got married, and your husband has very broad shoulders to lean on. He's nearly a decade your senior, and his father practically raised him to be a figure of authority. I admire him for letting you do this, and I admire you even more for offering to spare him the aggravation.'

He embraces her and kisses both her cheeks with feeling.

'I've been wanting to do that for ages. Now, let's go in and teach that bigot a lesson he'll never forget.'

Elizabeth feels very much heartened, not just by Frederick's encouraging, and very true, words, but also by his matter-of-fact demonstration of his affection. He will be behind her all the time, but he will not interfere. He's more like a witness than anything else, well, and maybe a bit of a bodyguard. Even a man like Mr Collins may resort to desperate measures when cornered.

First they put the study to rights, which takes ten minutes, Mr Collins did not make a terrific mess, he must have felt quite secure to take his time searching those drawers. Then Elizabeth sits down in Fitzwilliam's office chair, Frederick seats himself on a chair behind her, but within easy reach. See, she wasn't imagining things, he's guarding her.

Elizabeth rings the bell, and when Johnson answers it, she politely asks, 'Will you escort our guest Mr Collins here? Do not let him out of your sight.'

To her surprise, the butler doesn't even object to his mistress requesting to bring her a man the master ordered confined to his room.

'Yes, Mrs Darcy, right away.'

'Thank you, Johnson.'

He bows in acknowledgement before he leaves the room, those conversations he had with Simon must have been rather serious to have changed his ways so nicely.

Within minutes, Mr Collins arrives, closely followed by Johnson, who shuts the door behind them as if he expects his charge to try to escape. Elizabeth addresses her butler first, ignoring Mr Collins totally.

'Thank you, Johnson, you can leave us.'

When the butler is gone, she directs her attention to her cousin. He is certainly stunned to find himself in his host's study, but with his cousin instead of her fearsome husband.

'Sit down, please, Mr Collins,' Elizabeth says with dignity.

He does. And he is back to humility, more than ever, more even than towards Lady Catherine.

'Cousin Elizabeth. I'm so exceedingly sorry for what I have done, words fail to express my regrets at having desecrated the sanctity of your home and your hospitality. I have not been able to find any sleep last night, having discredited myself by blaming you for my own weakness and depravity. You were so right to refuse my hand, you have proven to deserve better.'

He stops only to draw breath, he is one step from prostrating himself, Elizabeth suspects. Unfortunately, his insincere humility has always provoked Elizabeth, and she feels nothing but a slight aversion. No empathy, no sympathy. She realises she almost sounds like Fitzwilliam at his coldest as she replies.

'I refused you, Mr Collins, because I did not love you and was certain I could never love you, not because I thought you were in any way beneath me. And I am very sure I was always the soul of courtesy towards you.'

'You were, you were, my dear cousin, it was my own mistaken pride that read hauteur where there was none. Even your esteemed husband never treated me with anything but kindness and condescension.'

Severely, Elizabeth corrects him, 'Fitzwilliam never treats anyone with condescension, not even the maid who empties his chamberpot!'

That is a hit, either her calling her esteemed husband by his first name, or mentioning chamberpots.

'You know as well as I do that he gave you more respect than Lady Catherine de Bourgh ever did.' Even Mr Collins must be able to hear the rest, the bit that she doesn't voice: 'and you threw it all away.' And he does.

'Please, my dear cousin, I know the unforgivable crime I have committed, and I already regret my transgressions against Mr Darcy and yourself very much. It was a despicable thing to do, born of jealousy. I was jealous of your magnificent position in life, not just affluence, but respectability, too. The superiority of your family-circle, the approbation of the society press.

But what I didn't realise yesterday was that you shared it with me freely. You let me sit at your table, eat your delectable food, talk to your friends, listen to their exalted music, visit the concert and even go behind the scenes. I know Mr Darcy will never acknowledge my presence again, and rightfully so. He has ever been the most righteous of men, protecting his own from the evil in society, of which I am now part. But may I please beg you to continue to notice my dear Charlotte, and my children?

I had hoped our eldest would be a daughter, to grace our own humble abode with the hallowing sound of music.'

As Elizabeth feels herself soften against her will by her cousin expressing a wish for a daughter instead of the obligatory son to cut off the entail, a cold voice behind Elizabeth brings her back to reality.

'Even in your fall you stick to your pomposity and conceit, Mr Collins. Remember that you are being judged here, it behooves you to show true respect for someone who can reduce you to what may be your true stature.'

There is only one Frederick Manners, there really is, and Elizabeth is glad he is on her side. Even Fitzwilliam cannot deflate someone so totally and so quickly. She can almost hear Mr Collins shrivel like the windbag he is. He hangs his head and whispers.

'I stand corrected once again. I will not beg for mercy, I will await my penance in silence.'

He seems almost like a normal man, now. Elizabeth suppresses her discomfort passing judgement on a living, breathing person as if she has the right to.

'For invading our private space and stealing a very sensitive document whilst enjoying our hospitality, you will not be sued, nor will we inform your patroness. Unless you talk about it, of course. You are, however, no longer welcome in any of our houses, though your wife and children may visit as they see fit.

Mr Fielding has decided to forgive you for stealing from him, under the following conditions.

Since you are obviously unsuitable to be the head of your household, this role will from now on go to your wife. She will make the major decisions raising your children and running your household. You will adhere to her decisions.

If you do not, Lady Catherine will hear of your mistakes and undoubtedly take steps to correct them.

Do you agree with these conditions?'

Mr Collins shows nothing so much as relief, relief he will be spared the humiliation of being cast out of his current comfortable position.

'Yes, I agree, I agree. I will take Charlotte's advice, and let her decide on how to raise the children. I should have listened to her much earlier!'

Elizabeth rings the bell and Johnson enters immediately with Mrs Collins, as arranged.

In a strange reversal of roles, Fitzwilliam is supposed to have spent the last half hour telling Charlotte how they plan to turn this unfortunate event around so Charlotte may profit from it instead of suffering from her husband's idiocy. Hopefully it will work, there is no way to guarantee Mr Collins will keep his end of the bargain, if he does not Charlotte will have to risk her own future to complain. That is why she is here now, to see him brought down a peg or two so she dares take charge.

Charlotte comes in and sits down without waiting for permission, why should she, she's Elizabeth's best friend. She looks tired and her face is solemn, almost bleak.

'How is the baby, Charlotte, and how are you?'

For a moment her friend's tension lessens, and she replies, 'Both very well, Eliza, thank you so much for everything. Fanny is so sweet and helpful, and that midwife she advised is very knowledgeable. She felt my belly and listened to the little one's heart, and she says everything is just fine. There are probably no more than two weeks to go.

She said those pains were caused by the baby settling in deeper, it should be no problem to travel for a few hours in a good carriage.'

That of course brings them to the issue at hand, for Mr Collins will have to leave, whether Charlotte is ready to travel or not. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Charlotte seems to enjoy browbeating her husband, for she sits back and sighs mournfully.

The effect on Mr Collins is astounding. He falls to his knees and rests his head against her skirts.

'Can you ever forgive me for endangering our future, my dear Charlotte?'

Then, a lot less pathetic, 'Did something happen to you or the baby last night, my love? Are you really all right? You look tired.'

'I am tired, Mr Collins,' she replies frankly. 'I should have stayed at Hunsford, so close to my time, but I didn't dare because I was afraid you would make a public spectacle out of yourself. Instead you did something much worse. I am very much afraid, and very tired. Carrying a child is very hard work.'

'And I have made it so much harder for you. There is nothing I can say to make it better, I have endangered everything I promised you in my offer to you; to love, cherish and protect you. I deserve neither you, nor the precious baby you carry. From now on, I will listen to your advice, as I am bound to.'

Charlotte is affected, that is so easy to see. She strokes his head without revulsion, and he looks up at her with what seems to be true devotion. Blinking once, Elizabeth still sees the same picture of a man who loves his wife, and his wife who tries really hard to reciprocate. Blinking twice, nothing has changed, except Mr Collins' expression. Instead of relief and, yes, Elizabeth cannot find another word for what he showed than love, he now looks up at his wife in horror. She seems beyond caring, Charlotte needs rest most of all.

'Oh my goodness!' her cousin expresses his terror, 'it's not over at all! I thought the danger had passed, but it has not! There is still a year mate, and indeed Mr Manners, they did all pick on me, who can ruin me. Will ruin us, my dear Charlotte, for there is no way I can pay him.

A whole bunch of us cheated on a test, someone had stolen the answers, I don't know how, I just knew I wouldn't pass without buying them. Anyway, this one man found out and now he threatens to tell Lady Catherine about it.'

Well, if that's all. That fellow must have been very pleased to find one victim who didn't laugh in his face when he tried to extort him. Even Charlotte is not put out, she merely strokes her chubby husband as if he's a dog sitting at her feet, his head in her lap.

Checking out Frederick, she does not find him looking on in contempt, or even amusement at Mr Collins' foolishness. He looks positively soft. Elizabeth sends him a smile and a fat, juicy wink, to let him know she's seen through his act of popular tough leader of a college clique that is not above applying its own justice, right into the heart of a tender-hearted sentimentalist.

Suddenly, Mr Collins looks up at Charlotte, then at his two executioners, face filled with wonder, anxiety and shame forgotten for a few moments.

'Charlotte, she kicked me! The baby kicked me!'

Two weeks to go, and he never felt that before? That is kind of sad, and the very reason why Elizabeth never even considered marrying Mr Darcy when she still hated him, despite her bleak prospects in life. What is a marriage without love? How can children from such a union ever grow up to be sensible adults? Well, in fact she is one of them, and Charlotte now seems to have every chance to make sure hers will turn out as well as Elizabeth and Jane did. In fact, she bends over with a little difficulty, takes Mr Collins' chubby cheeks in her hands, and kisses him. On the forehead, but that may be because her huge belly prevents her from reaching any lower.

Nonetheless it has an effect.

'All right, all right, I admit it. I am a hopeless romantic! Never mind the fellow from school, Mr Collins. Just give me his name and address, and I'll make sure he keeps his quiet to your Lady Catherine de Bourgh. I'll threaten him, or find something on him, it's not a grave sin to cheat in a test. Merely very foolish and a bit shabby. I'm actually quite sure your patroness will forgive you if you confess in a suitably humble manner. You just mind you treat your missus well!'

And just like that it's done. Elizabeth rings and has Johnson bring an early lunch for four to the study. She is not going to let Charlotte leave on an empty stomach. Frederick saves her from Mr Collins' attentions by telling him some stories of his friends' exploits at college, one of whom is actually a clergyman, too, Elizabeth seems to remember. Apparently it is nothing out of the ordinary to cheat a little on one's tests, something that probably has eluded only this one silly, self-centred man.

Charlotte seems a bit distracted, not miraculous considering what she has been through last night and this morning.

During lunch, Johnson enters and respectfully announces the carriage has arrived, and immediately after they finish their meal, Charlotte kisses Elizabeth and observes quietly, 'Thank you for letting him get away, Eliza. I think I would have had him deported to the colonies myself. And thank you for the rest, too. He seems to really have some feelings for me, I didn't know that, I will make use of that knowledge to improve things at home. Maybe I have been too accepting of his peculiarities, it seems he is not altogether insensitive to corrective measures. I'll apply them when called for. Frankly, I could get used to having him at my feet.'

That certainly promises well for Charlotte and her new baby, and Elizabeth feels a little less guilty letting her travel after such a night.

'Please don't feel bad over this, Eliza, your Mr Darcy explained exactly what Mr Collins did and I agree with him he should feel it. We planned to leave today anyway, and next time I visit I'll leave him in Hunsford. We'll have such a good time! Frankly, I'll be glad to be home, I can't wait to start changing some things in the house. Bye now!'

Elizabeth takes leave of her cousin with a mere nod, though she's never felt more like kissing him than just now. Still, it's not a pleasure she regrets to forgo, and there is no real urge to touch him in any way. She still dislikes him very much.

Mr Collins slinks away like a beaten dog, but Charlotte leaves in a much better humour than she arrived.

'I'll write when the baby's born!' is the last thing Elizabeth hears as the carriage pulls out.

'I bet you're glad to see the last of him,' Frederick comments dryly.

Slowly, Elizabeth realises she is. She has never seen anything humorously in her cousin, he has always irritated her. While she still cannot blame him very much for disliking her, it will not be hard to let go of any connection to him.

'I am. And I have some hope that Charlotte will manage him better from now on.'

'Oh, she will,' Frederick observes with humour, 'she certainly will.'

'I'm going to see to Fitzwilliam, Frederick. I think he feels bad about this. He once told me his good opinion once lost is lost forever. Do you think he is being vindictive? I don't like my cousin but he's mostly silly, not really malicious.'

She really feels a need for an adult opinion, she loves and admires Fitzwilliam, but isn't this resentment bad for him as a person?

An arm on her shoulder gives instant relief.

'Don't worry, dear Elizabeth, no harm will befall your beloved over this. Your cousin not only offended you, he was truly spiteful. I myself would have thrown him out like the common thief he proved himself to be. But there is more, though it will sound overbearing to you. Your cousin behaves as if he is one of us, as if he has a right to act like one of us, look down on those he considers beneath us and thus himself. But he has nothing to recommend him.

You've seen how Eric has been received, you've been welcomed by the queen's ladies yourself. You both have a right to be one of us, you have proven yourself worthy.

Your cousin has done the reverse. Darcy has borne with him admirably, has acknowledged him as a relative, has given him great honour without your cousin having anything to offer except being your relative.

Thus, when your cousin turned against you, he threw away the only reason Darcy had to allow him close. And on top of that he abused his hospitality and tried to harm the two people who have really earned their place among us, Eric and you. I don't blame Darcy for what he did, and I don't think he overreacted. I would have done the exact same thing, except I might even have sued him and offered Mrs Collins a divorce. Though just now I thought there may still be some hope of their affection becoming mutual when they have a baby to connect them.

Do not worry, Elizabeth, your beloved will be just fine. Just take him to your own room and give him some loving attention, he deserves it, and it will make him feel a lot better.'

Elizabeth decides to do exactly that, she does find Frederick's reasoning overbearing, but he is from the same class as Fitzwilliam so he is bound to know what drives a man like him. To think she is allowed to be one of them, it's rather arrogant, but somehow she cannot hold it against Frederick either. Besides, Elizabeth's father is a gentleman, she is a lot less below Fitzwilliam than Frederick's lover is beneath him, and Elizabeth doesn't have a single doubt he'd take his beloved into public life if only he were a girl. That realisation makes him a lot more human, and he did offer Mr Collins to solve his other problem for him. He is a good man, and his life is not easy.

As they enter the drawing-room together, they find Georgiana and Eric practising Georgiana's pieces openly, but Fitzwilliam is not there. Where can he be at this time of the day? She tries his study first, because that is closest, but without success. Then the dining-room, maybe he is still reading the paper there. But he isn't.

The library, no Fitzwilliam, their bedroom, no-one there. Where can he be? The stables? Or did he go out? On the stairs, she meets Simon, who merely says, 'The master is in the stables, Mrs Darcy.' Then he turns around to go back down.

'You came to tell me he's in the stables?'

'I did, I guess I was a little late, though. Seems you've looked everywhere already, sorry ma'am.'

'Never mind, Simon, you cannot be everywhere at once. I'll go see him.'


	79. Chapter 79

Chapter 89

She finds him in the stall of his black horse, stroking the smooth flanks, deeply disturbed.

'Do you blame me?' he asks when she stands right next to him, one arm around him and the other stroking his beautiful face.

'I was a bit worried for you, but blame you, no. You had reasons. Remember, we didn't even invite him.'

'But you wouldn't have kicked him out. I haven't been this angry for years, since Wickham, frankly, and I don't like it. I feel childish, resentful. I've had such bouts of jealousy these last few months, it's as if I'm turning into a nasty, vengeful shade of who I want to be. Letting you do the dirty work. It's the old Darcy come back, my dearest, and I'm afraid you'll not be able to love him. I'm afraid he doesn't deserve to be loved.'

Well, it's almost as if he is with child and over-sensitive! Suddenly a thought strikes her. It's the jealousy, he hates feeling like that but he cannot help it. That helplessness is causing this, not foolish Mr Collins. It's time for one of those episodes, for him to let everything go for a an hour, let someone else be in charge. What can she do to tease him out of this state? Indulge him? But she doesn't want to be mean to him, she wants to spoil him and make much of him. Maybe it's not too late, yet, if she says the right thing, maybe it can still be averted.

'I liked browbeating my cousin. I have disliked him from the first, and it felt great to deliver him to Charlotte. Remember I offered to do that? And how you faced the overwrought spouse? You're not vengeful, my love, and you're certainly not a child. You're in fact a very masculine, very handsome man. Do you want to sit down in that empty stall at the very end and make out a little?'

Her hand has moved towards his thigh once more, without the cover of a shawl this time.

He looks her over, not with lust, but practicality. His voice sounds normal, but his eyes beg to differ. It's very close, his next episode. Then he has decided.

'Yes! I really, really want to sit in the straw and be with you.' And with a final pat he leaves the black's stall, leading Elizabeth out and closing the door behind her.

But instead of to the empty stall, he moves towards the carriage standing in its usual place, then rummages under the box seat. Pulling out a woollen blanket, he scrutinises it, then observes, 'Hmm, I'd hoped this would protect your dress from whatever is in that stall, but it's obviously been used outside in all kinds of weather. It needs a thorough washing. Come, let's look inside.'

That is good, that is very good, he is taking the initiative, leading her. All is not yet lost. Inside the carriage are several cleaner blankets, and they take those along to the last stall. It's hardly ever used for horses, and Bob has taken to keeping a few bales of straw there, to save himself a cold, wet walk to the storage-shed each morning before dawn.

Elizabeth has eyed it before on their daily trips to the stable to go riding, it looks just perfect for trysting. Unfortunately it's not exactly what ladies and gentlemen are supposed to do, make out in a stables, but today feels different. They need to do something exciting and forbidden, to put the emphasis within their marriage back where it belongs, on the love that binds them, not on what society makes of it.

Hand still over hers, her beloved leads her to the stall, the front is almost entirely filled up with bales, but they climb over them and find a nice little space behind the stack. It's covered in loose straw, and there is no smell besides the general odour of straw, hay and horse that suffuses everything in a stables. It's just perfect, if Bob and Fanny weren't so perfectly decent, Elizabeth would suspect the former of having made this little love-nest on purpose. Well, maybe he did, all engaged couples like to sneak kisses and caresses at times.

Checking out the back of the straw-stack she is certain at once this is not a coincidence, it's shaped like a recliner but slightly broader, with just enough space for two people to sit side by side and do some serious snuggling.

But for their own purpose, Elizabeth soon wishes it weren't so perfect. She expected them to rip at each other's clothes and do some fevered kissing and petting, then lie down for some serious lovemaking on one of those blankets. The sight of a perfect two seater has a wholly different effect on her beloved. He drapes the blanket over it, though it seems perfectly smooth, it must see regular use, then invites Elizabeth to sit down on it. She doesn't want to, the look in his eyes presages danger, she wants him to grab her and take her, not worship her. The image of Mr Collins kneeling before his dear Charlotte is still too vivid, she does not want to see Fitzwilliam in the same situation, tempting her sense of the ridiculous. But she cannot refuse her beloved either, not when he practically exudes his need. Oh, bother, now she's in for it. Well, she knew it was coming, could see it coming for weeks, there is just nothing she can do to stop it, unless they move to Pemberley forever, or better still, to a little cabin on the moors with no-one around for miles in every direction.

As he leads his beloved away from the box to grab a few cleaner blankets inside, Darcy knows what's coming. He also knows it'll disconcert Elizabeth to see him this way, and she has been so calm throughout, even though it concerned her most of all. The realisation that his humble moods burden his beloved makes him feel guilty, and he tries his very best to control himself. Maybe a little romp in a bed of straw will make the difference, it will be exciting at the very least.

Another four days and they'll be all by themselves, on their way to a picturesque little guest house at the seaside. Easy enough for Fitzwilliam to say it'll improve Darcy's connections to stay with the local Colonel, an acquaintance of uncle Spencer's, but Darcy has to have his beloved all to himself for a few hours each day. He cannot bear to be dressed up all day, breakfasting with the family and making friends with the local gentlemen's wives and daughters in the evenings when he will be spending most of his days with the officers already, trying to get Wickham into the rifles. No, the mornings and evenings will be theirs and theirs alone, as will the trip over. If Bob doesn't want his fiancée travelling with him on the box, they'll hire a local maid for Elizabeth. It's better if she doesn't look the part of the London icon of fashion anyway, it will only cause all of them to look at her with longing, trying to claim her time and her attention. Darcy has to bear plenty of that at home.

Arriving at the last stall, it looks like a bit of a climb to get inside, the bales of straw are stacked at least four high, though Bob has already used a few on the sides, accidentally making an excellent set of stairs. Accidentally? No way! This is meant to be climbed by someone in long skirts. Naughty Bob!

Of course Elizabeth barely needs his assistance, and if so, only because she's wearing inconvenient skirts. She's nimble enough, his prize, his perfect little lady. Look at her, she's worrying over him, he'll show her there is nothing to worry about. Darcy knows she is his, knows his jealousy is undeserved and useless. And he'll get the better of it, he will! It may take a little longer in London, but his mind has always been in control of his feelings. Eventually he will triumph.

But when they descend into the stall and find the little seat made out of straw bales, his feelings prove him wrong by taking over completely. As Elizabeth studies this sweet little love-nest, knowing with certainty who made it, Darcy spreads the blankets over the straw sofa, though it looks perfectly clean. Bob would never allow his divine Fanny getting smudged.

Bob doesn't seem to be jealous of Fanny at all, though she really is beautiful and he is rather plain. And by now her professional success is very much on the rise, whereas he is a little stuck at the moment, his pride and joy, the thoroughbreds, in the care of another. Maybe Darcy should ask him how he copes with feelings of envy and jealousy, he must have them.

Elizabeth lets him lead her to sit on the little seat readily enough, but it's easy to see this is not what she expects or wants. And that's the last straw, he can't help himself anymore, he knows he is asking too much, but she loves him, she'll forgive him for this. She is so beautiful, there is such strength in her, how she offered to deal with her cousin, how she made a joke to spare her companions the embarrassment when his legacy for her caused her to cry.

'I'm sorry, my love, I can't stop it, it's too strong.'

It's so good to be sitting in this snug little hideout, dark, cramped, smelling of horse and clean straw, his head in her lap. Certainly, he doesn't dare look up for fear of seeing Elizabeth displeased or even hurt, but he will hope for the best and steal this moment from her. If she cannot cope, he'll deal with it later.

For now his beloved doesn't seem to mind very much, she has not pushed him away or begged him to get up. When she strokes his hair gently he notices he was holding his breath in suspense, and now he dares to let go of all his negative feelings and just sit there a little longer.

Nothing happens to disturb their peace, the hand stroking his hair now includes his cheek and his neck, and finally he dares to look up. To find Elizabeth looking down at him with as much admiration and love as with which he looks up at her. When their eyes meet, a smile lights up her beautiful features. A diverted smile, she is laughing at him!

'That is quite a relief, my love. My cousin sat like this at his dear Charlotte's feet not even an hour ago, and I was so afraid I'd respect you less for having that memory so fresh in my mind. But there was no need for fear, you are such a handsome man, and I admire and love you so much, there is no comparison. He looked like a fat puppy, you look like a prince. My prince.'

She bends down towards him, takes a firm hold of his jaws, then kisses him with ardour until they both gasp for breath.

As soon as that is done, she kisses him again, and directs him towards the straw-covered ground. There is no blanket to keep their clothes clean, but neither of them cares, there are more important things than clean clothes. Lying on the straw with his love looming over him isn't bad either, especially since she's still holding his jaws in a surprisingly strong grip for those elegant little hands of hers.

One of those hands now takes hold of his neck, the other explores his whole face with caresses and the occasional tickle, alternated with kisses and even some little bites. He does not reciprocate but rather submits to her touch, not really trying to find out whether that is her intention. After his face, she moves on to his throat, caressing it, slowly undoing button after button, kissing his bare chest wherever it is exposed. Her voice is soft, affected, as she speaks for the first time in minutes.

'Last time you were like this, my love, I was angry with you. Now I feel only love. You are so cute and loveable when you're helpless, I don't want to be mean to you. But I don't think I need to be to give you what you ache for, I think this is enough.'

And that is true, he'd prefer her to be really bossy, but if this is what she can give without going beyond what is comfortable to her, it is enough to give him that special feeling of being safe with her.

She has loosened his trousers as well, and with some expert manipulation of her own skirts he feels her sitting down right on top of him, very tantalizing and good, but he cannot take the initiative as he'd usually do. He merely enjoys the warm feeling, and her caresses, until she gets it. He receives a little nudge in his side, and a kind rejoinder.

'Come on, Mr Lazy, you have to work for your keep, you know!'

She knows he's ticklish! The nudge causes him to heave up, and that is exactly what she wants him to do, of course, she groans a bit excessively and comments, 'Just like that, yes. And again, you're not done yet!'

Another nudge, and he gives it another go, but no more, he will be lazy until she puts him to work. A light in her eyes says she has taken up the challenge, maybe he can get her to be bossy without realising it.

And it works, though the price is high. She knows him so well, and she is an experienced rider by now, the two combining to a few minutes of ecstasy mingled with torture, as his beloved gets him to give her what she wants by removing most of her weight from his stomach, and tickling him mercilessly in his sensitive sides, causing him to heave and buck under her.

Before he can beg for mercy, she stops tickling him, sits back down firmly and observes dryly, 'I suppose that is not what I had in mind, I don't mind teasing you but it mustn't become abusive. I'll have to get my due some other way.'

Bending down towards him she kisses him lovingly, then gets up resolutely and sits back on the straw seat. It's a bit disappointing to no longer be connected to his beloved, but frankly that is his own fault, trying to get her to order him around a little.

'I suppose if I want you, I'd better give you what you want first, my love. I cannot refuse you anything, anyway. So you'd better get back up on your knees, and be quick about it for I'm starting to lose patience.'

Yes. No laziness in this man, whatsoever. Within a minute he's back where he aches to be, and gets his kisses and caresses, and then she lifts her skirt and gestures what he is to do next. His beloved likes that, well, that's no wonder for he also likes it very much when she does that to him, but not now. Now he may lose himself in her, still on his knees, touching her most intimate place until she tells him what to do next.

She lets him stay there for a very long time, tension draining from him, his love and his ardour growing until he really has to hold himself back with all his formidable self-control. This is how it should be, to forget everything in one big rush of feelings. When he has felt the third deep shudder run through her, she starts to understand he will go on until she tells him to stop or do something different, he's happy just where he is.

This time her hands tell him what to do, they take hold of his arms and pull him upright and towards her. One guides him, the other holds his neck to keep his mouth within reach of her kisses.

'Since we're going to spend a lot of time in Wickham's company the next few weeks, my love, I want you to be strong and free of doubt. So do as I say and let it out, all the ardour I can see in your eyes, and in the way you hold yourself. Give it to me, all of it.'

He lets go of his control.

Afterwards, this time, she does not feel bad about acting her part, she's very affectionate, kissing him and running her hand across his back with long strokes.

'You're such a magnificent specimen. Feel better?'

'Much better. Thank you.' It's easy to lie on the thick layers of straw and talk.

'I'm working on it, my love, the jealousy, the resentment. It's not who I want to be.'

'Didn't we conclude one time in the past that every character has a shade? I love you with or without yours, Fitzwilliam. I like the way you got me to do what you wanted with humour. And I have a feeling that resisting your need only makes it stronger. Humour makes it better. We'll find a solution, and until we do, this isn't so bad. I can't wait to be alone, with our hair barely decent, and our clothes mismatched. And no-one to make a fuss about it.'

'Well, I've arranged things so we can be together most of the time, but we'll have to visit some connections of my uncle's, Colonel Drummond. We cannot afford to insult him by ignoring him, he's the one who can make or break our brother-in-law's career. And he and his friends, and their wives most of all, read the society pages.'

'I know. We've let something out of its cage and now it will keep pestering us. But it's not that bad, really. I have kind of gotten used to being nice to people. It gets easier with practice, don't you think?'

'It does, my dearest. Ever since you convinced me I really needed to be nicer to people, I've tried my best, and it does get easier. Also, it has its own reward. People are nicer to me, too. And I have you.'

The silly thing is, that what had built up over a few weeks, is now gone. Darcy seriously cannot remember the neediness, the insecurity, the jealousy. And his beloved is right in one thing: he will need all the calm he can gather around him, for Wickham will be a nuisance worse than Mr Collins. Or will he?

'Not counting their actual misdeed, Elizabeth, who is the worst company? Your cousin or Wickham?'

'My cousin, love. Wickham is actually quite entertaining. I bet he has plenty of interesting tales to tell, especially if we can get him to talk about your father. If you can handle what you'll hear, that'll be very enlightening, he knew a totally different man. I liked hearing Wickham talk about his time in the army. Mr Collins hasn't said anything worth hearing in his entire life.

And Wickham has some very interesting insights in the situation with France. I could stand to listen to him for a few hours. But only if you can bear it, if you want me to, I'll avoid him. I do not want you kissing my stockings at your uncle's connections' dining-table.'

Since she says this laughing, he retorts with humour.

'No chance, Elizabeth. Wickham will not be invited there, he's just a lowly ensign.'

'Are you certain? He is related by marriage to Lady Catherine de Bourgh, you know. Even if it's several times removed.'

'You are the most precious thing in the world, Elizabeth Darcy, and you're all mine.'

Staying with the Blackwood family, Anne decides to take things one step further with nearly all her new acquaintances tomorrow. They are sitting on Sophie's bed in the room where the three of them sleep together, a girl's dream in pink, with frills everywhere, and more embroidered cushions and dainty knick-knacks than a truly sensible person should own. But they're good natured, sweet girls, and if Mr Manners is right, they are seeking entertainment in places that would seriously harm their reputation if someone were to find out.

'Angelina and Sophie, what would you say to paying our respects to my cousin Mr Darcy and his wife tomorrow morning? I'm pretty sure his sister will be there, with the adored Mr Fielding. You can get acquainted with them, maybe even hear them play. No-one outside the family circle has ever heard Miss Darcy play.'

Sophie nearly faints.

'You'd do that for us? Mr Fielding? Really? You think he'd talk to us?'

'You've been so nice to me, I feel I should repay your kindness with what I have to offer. And that is a connection to your favourite pianist.'

'We'd love to, Anne,' Angelina says, 'I know we offered to take you to some really exciting places, but I'm afraid we cannot rival the honour of meeting Mr Fielding in person. He is so beautiful! Did he really write that stunning music for your cousin? She's beautiful, too, they look like a god and his goddess.'

'He does write music for dear Georgiana. He's actually very nice, a very friendly man. And my cousin is also very kind, almost shy. They would both certainly talk to you. If they are in when we visit, I cannot guarantee it.'

That's settled then, she'll send a boy over to let them know they're coming. Sophie and Angelina will be so happy, and after this they'll take Anne with them wherever they go. For herself she hopes to have the opportunity to talk privately with Elizabeth for a few minutes, and to meet Mr Manners again and see if she can catch him in a weak moment. She is starting to doubt the admiration she saw in him, he is very kind and seems eager to please her, but he has not tried to visit her or even talk to her outside their normal interaction. The man's mind is as complicated as his appearance is simple.

'You'll have to come with us on our next excursion then, Anne,' Angelina offers.

'I'd love to, Angelina. What are you planning to do?'

Angelina thinks for a moment, then replies, 'I think we'll go to a dance first, right, Sophie? Start small, and build it up later? Can you dance, Anne?'

'I can,' Anne replies, but she doesn't really feel the certainty she expresses. She has had lessons of course, but it has been some time, and she fears she still doesn't have the energy to keep it up for long. Walking is fine, but dancing? It's not something she likes to confess to her friends, but they have already seen her doubt.

'When you get tired, you can sit out a few dances. We'll have someone keep an eye you so no-one will bother you.'

That doesn't sound very comforting, but she can always try dancing before they go out, it will be a good reason to call on Mr Manners, it's not impolite to ask him for assistance, after all he has more or less told her he'd take her under his wings for the duration of her visit. Maybe she can repay him with a little information.

'And if I may ask, what are we building up towards?' she asks nonchalantly.

Both girls laugh heartily, and Angelina offers, 'Well, we've been to dances before, and to a strange little circus just outside of town. Very old and creepy, almost sad. But that's no fun in winter, we'll take you there in summer.'

Sophie continues.

'A month ago, we took Maria and Leonora to the Execution Dock to see a hanging. It was so exciting! First we saw the condemned men on a large cart, I think they were pirates, they sure looked like they were, their leader was a ravishingly handsome man but clearly bad to the bone. One other was as black as the night, his skin, too! The whites of his eyes and his teeth were the only things not black about him. We followed the cart with the convicts and saw the executioners there with them. And there was a man in a carriage, and some on horseback, very official. Nick told us who they are were, but I forgot.'

Nick is one of the servants they take everywhere, the girls' familiarity towards him rather unsettling to Anne. He is in his twenties, very burly and self-assured and not at all bad-looking for a low-born servant. And Anne must admit he seems to be quite devoted to his mistresses.

The girls now tell her exactly how the hanging proceeded, they were in the middle of the crowd, in their finery, with just Nick and three more menservants to protect them. Apparently it didn't bother the girls at all to see three men die rather horribly, and the crowd cheering them on.

'Nick didn't like it much, said to be ready to leave if the mood turned ugly. He has a weapon, you know, but he keeps it hidden beneath his livery. We know exactly what to do if he needs to use it, he'll clear a path and we follow, the other servants guarding our back. But when the pirates had died, everyone just went away.'

Angelina sounds as if she still regrets that. Sophie seems a bit milder of character, she happily changes the subject, and they proceed to tell her more about the dances.

'We go to a different part of town, Nick says it's decidedly lower class, but we're safe because people don't know who we are. We wear different dresses, you see, and we talk like them. Nick has some kind of soft cudgel hidden in his clothes, he and the other servants also wear common clothes, not livery. We take one servant for each one of us, that's the safest, and of course that way we always have partners to dance with. It keeps them loyal, you know, really liking us, Nick would fight a lion to protect us. Though we also know other nice men there, we dance with them often.

Then our servants still keep an eye on us, but of course they have to dance with the local girls or they'll find out we're not of their kind.'

That is even worse than she thought! Manners has piqued her curiosity immensely by more or less suggesting that what those girls are doing is in violation of common decency for young girls, but what they have told her so far must exceed his worst fears. Still, Anne wants to be part of it, though rather as a kind of neutral observer than as participant.

'It's so exciting, Anne, you'll love it!' Sophie exclaims.

'We'll start with one of those dances, and when you're used to wearing one of those different dresses, and taking heed of what Nick says, he insists we do that or it would be dangerous, we'll take you on our next trip. We're planning to visit a madhouse, Maria's maid's uncle works there, and Maria has promised to get us in.'

Well, that does it. She'd better keep eating as well as she does now, or the least bit of anxiety will cause her to faint. And to be carried back to their carriage by some cudgel-bearing servant is not Anne's idea of a day well-spent. Still it may be best to talk to Mr Manners before going on one of these trips, he may not like her risking her respectability like that, though he did introduce her to the Blackwood girls, and by now she is certain not in ignorance of what they are doing. She trusts he is not trying to get her into trouble, she really is convinced he expects her to save those girls from dangerous pleasures and have some fun herself in the meantime. And depending on what Angelina and Sophie mean by taking heed of their servant, Anne is willing to take a little risk to spy for Mr Manners. It cannot do harm to build up some credit with such a respected man.


	80. Chapter 80

Chapter 90

The visit is a great success for all parties involved. Well, at least for Anne and her friends.

At first, Anne is a little apprehensive over their reception, she and Darcy have not been very close for at least a decade, and there is that little thing between them. She is rapidly coming to terms with his marriage, in hindsight Anne wonders whether she could ever have been happy with a righteous, rather unbending man like him. Elizabeth is so playful, she is just perfect for him, Anne can imagine her fearlessly teasing him out of his shell. Though it may have taken her quite a lot of courage at first to challenge Mr Darcy's dignity, he was so impressive in Miss Elizabeth Bennet's presence.

Anne realises she is mostly afraid that Darcy will be resentful, that he will be displeased to have her visit him because he has not yet forgiven her for claiming him against his wishes. She does not fear Elizabeth's reaction, which is actually surprising. But somehow she knows Mrs Darcy is kindly inclined towards her, whatever the impression she made when they first met at Rosings. Elizabeth is not the kind to hold grudges, Darcy is.

But her fears prove unnecessary. When the butler announces them to the party assembled in the lovely, fashionable drawing-room, they are received with the greatest cordiality by Darcy and Elizabeth, and by Mr Manners. After the formal introductions are made, they sit down, Angelina and Sophie showing some of their disappointment at the absence of their idol. But all is not yet lost, for soon servants bustle in with everything needed to enjoy the coffee associated with a morning visit, and Mrs Darcy, now really the hostess and not just her cousin's lively partner, addresses one of the servants. Anne can only discern 'Georgiana' and 'Eric' in what she is saying, but that's enough, Anne knows Eric is Mr Fielding's first name.

That is a pretty familiar way to talk to a servant, even such a handsome one, but Anne seems to remember the fellow from Darcy's numerous past visits to Rosings: it's his valet Simon, who never did know his place, something maman wasn't above noticing and complaining to Mrs Jenkinson about. Anne has no clue what a valet is doing serving coffee, but that is none of her business anyway. He leaves the room and surely enough, shortly afterwards the door opens and Georgiana and Mr Fielding enter the room. Together, and obviously very much in love.

But Sophie and Angelina don't care at all. Their rather dark and plain faces light up in adulation, and the resulting shyness seems to have them glued to their very comfortable chairs. And now Georgiana proves to her cousin that she has indeed grown in more than grace and beauty, for she unhesitatingly glides towards their visitors and kisses Anne, then shakes hands familiarly with the girls.

'It's so good to meet you, Miss Blackwood and... Oh, I'm so sorry, you must think I'm terribly rude, I know you are Miss Sophie and you are Miss Angelina, but I've only heard you were twins, not which one of you is the elder.'

Georgiana does not feel the embarrassment her words express, Anne is sure of that. She is merely showing her interest in a very polite way. The girls nearly swoon, though they are substantially older than Georgiana and obviously very worldly-wise. Angelina is the first to find her voice.

'Oh, Miss Darcy, please don't feel bad about that. Most people cannot even tell us apart! I'm so honoured you know our names! You could not have known which one of us is the elder, for our parents have ever kept that a secret. They do not want people to treat us differently, it would be so hard on the youngest. So neither of us is Miss Blackwood, we're just Sophie and Angelina, as you said!'

Sophie has also managed to get up from her chair, and she curtsies elegantly and dares to say something, too.

'Thank you, Miss Darcy. You are so beautiful, and your dresses are always stunning.'

Now Georgiana shows a tiny bit of true feeling, she still finds it hard to be treated with adulation, but Anne is sure only a keen observer who has known her for years will notice it.

'I guess my fiancée doesn't need an introduction, I've seen you in the audience more often than not, but I'm certain you will want to shake hands with him and test his powers of observation: does he know the names of his most avid admirers?'

Oh, she has caught Elizabeth's pertness for sure, but the girls love it. They shake hands with their idol, Anne suspects they'll refuse to bathe for days not to wash that touch off, then stand waiting for him to address them. Mr Fielding is quite the charmer, and such a good-looking man, he bows to each girl and names them perfectly, starting with the one Georgiana addressed last. Anne appreciates what their life must be like, always in their best looks and on their best behaviour. For a moment she feels bad about invading their privacy, but then she tells herself they need the goodwill of Mr Fielding's admirers. The Blackwood girls are well-liked among their peers, they will praise their idol sky-high, assuring Mr Fielding some new fans.

With the help of Mr Manners and Elizabeth a lively conversation soon ensues, Sophie and Angelina chatting freely with the object of their adulation. Objects, actually, for they seem as willing to worship Georgiana as Mr Fielding. And those two live up to their reputation, they are smart and kind and interested in their visitors.

When they have finished drinking coffee, Georgiana invites the girls to sit in the lazy chair next to the piano, where she plays for them, causing them to gape at her in surprise and admiration. Anne seeks out Elizabeth, now growing a little apprehensive how to start. But her hostess has no such qualms and comes to the point rather skilfully.

'Mr and Mrs Collins left yesterday, Miss de Bourgh, in your mother's carriage. I'm quite certain they will tell your mother that you are well cared for and happy in town. But I'm afraid my cousin will take it upon himself to spin a few tales to your mother, about you and Mr Manners. He is convinced that gentleman admires you because the latter spent quite some time talking to you. My cousin didn't hesitate to mention his expectations to us, and I'm sure he will do the same back in Kent. I'm very sorry he could claim hospitality from your cousin, because of me.'

Perfect.

'No need to apologise, Mrs Darcy. I know my mother, this had nothing to do with your relative's curiosity, my mother sent him. Mr Collins does not have the strength of mind to refuse her, of course he is totally dependent on my mother for his livelihood so I cannot even blame him. But I do wonder why he thought Mr Manners admired me, his wife must have told him of her suspicions. Did Mrs Collins tell you what she saw?'

Though warned by Mr Manners' obvious complexity of character and his lack of distinction towards her, Anne still feels a little pang of regret at the sight of Elizabeth's countenance. She obviously believes Mr Manners does not admire Anne, but she doesn't know how to tell a woman who has been nursing an unrequited affection for years that she is on the road to the same situation. Of course Anne knows it's not like that at all, and she will explain eventually, though Elizabeth may be shocked, being so much in love with her husband herself. To find another woman planning to marry for convenience instead of love must affront her.

'I don't think Mr Manners is the type to fall in love within a few days, Miss de Bourgh, if at all. He likes being with people, I've seen him very familiar with two ladies-in-waiting of the Queen herself, please do not set your sights upon him too firmly. I would hate to see you disappointed again, when you are doing so much better.

Of course I may be mistaken, but if I am, he should increase his attentions towards you soon. I have a feeling he can be incredibly charming towards someone he truly loves. But I also think his heart is not won easily, he is such an intricate man.'

Elizabeth is certain she is not mistaken, that much is clear. But she is thinking in terms of love, not mutual benefit, which is Anne's object.

'Thank you for your honesty, Mrs Darcy. And please do not fear for me, I am not in love with Mr Manners, I have not replaced one unattainable man with another. Romantic love is not something one has a right to, something one can count on finding in one lifetime. I merely seek to marry to get away from my mother and living death, to have a chance to live. A kind and developed husband is all I ask for. And freedom, I think I have found it at last, and I am not going to give it up.'

Elizabeth is affected, that much is clear. But she does believe in love, and why not? She's found it. A love so deep it survived rejection and even outright hatred. All she had to do was recognise it and open her heart to it. Of course she wants everyone to have that, but that is just not possible. Anne will settle for freedom and a little happiness.

'I'm very glad to hear you say you're not in love with Mr Manners. But I'm rather sad you would give up on love altogether already. Why not give it some time?'

'I guess I will, but I'm going to have a lot of fun first. Thank you very much for your kindness, Mrs Darcy.'

'We're related now, so won't you call me Elizabeth?'

See, it's more natural that way.

'If you'll call me Anne. I must admit it feels strange to call you Mrs Darcy when you're younger and so much more alive than I am.'

'Please give it time, Anne, you still need to grow a lot stronger before you can feel truly alive. And remember, marriage is not the only way to escape living with your mother. And that is something that Mr Manners can and will gladly help you with, I'm sure. Or Fitzwilliam, my Fitzwilliam, well, frankly, yours, too, and your uncle. I think none of us want to see you back in a torpor at Rosings.'

And to prove she isn't planning to sink back into living death at all, Anne encourages Mr Manners, who is looking for permission to join them, to do just that. As soon as he is with them, she addresses him.

'Angelina and Sophie want to take me dancing, Mr Manners, and whilst I have told them I can dance, I'm not certain at all that I still can. I still tire very quickly, and it's been years since I've actually danced. May I impose on you to help me try out my legs and lungs in relative secrecy? Meaning I don't mind Elizabeth or Darcy seeing me fumble, but as much as I like them, preferably none of the Blackwood girls' clique?'

Mr Manners grins broadly, and replies with surprising seriousness.

'Of course, Miss de Bourgh, though I may not be the happy proprietor of as athletic a figure as Darcy or Fielding, I'm considered an excellent dancer. And I can so imagine you don't want to risk your young friends seeing you struggle. Will tomorrow afternoon be soon enough?'

Then he turns really serious on her.

'And will you allow me to take you to a reputed doctor just before we try your dancing skills? You'll have to bring a chaperone of course, I'm sure your uncle or the Colonel will be pleased to accompany you.'

Is he ever used to getting his way! He doesn't even give her the chance to refuse, he's like maman, only a bit more subtle. Well, a lot more subtle. But it's very clear visiting a doctor is his requirement for indulging her wish to practise her dancing skills with him. Anne is tempted to refuse, she does not like being manipulated! She's had plenty of that at home, thank you very much!

But whereas she's sure that Fitzwilliam will be pleased to help her out, they have no piano at home. And Darcy is a fabulous dancer, but Anne is not going to ask him, besides, she isn't at all certain she could dance with him already and feel no regrets.

'Miss de Bourgh, I'm sorry!'

A hand on her arm pulls her out of her unpleasant musings, and Mr Manners shows his feelings openly, for once.

'I have this unfortunate habit of being just a little too decisive. Take things on myself that are none of my business. Please believe me that I am not trying to force you to visit a doctor. I will gladly help you to find your dancing feet again without any strings attached, I'm sorry if it seemed as if I was patronising you. I'm not your father nor your keeper, you are a grown woman and very capable of making your own decisions. Will you forgive me?'

Elizabeth's smile proves this is not the first time Mr Manners has overstepped himself. Now Anne wishes she'd given him a smart retort, not shown her feelings so much. But the fact is, she has been ruled for so long now, it's just too much to ask. Yet.

'Thank you Mr Manners, I'm very relieved to accept your apology. I can't seem to think of anything smart to say, I was just stunned because you sounded so much like maman.'

Now both Elizabeth and Mr Manners are almost choking with laughter, as if she has said something very diverting. Oh. She did. Well, maybe there is some hope then. Fortunately Mr Manners is not insulted, but still rather amused.

'Good, you seem to have caught Elizabeth's sense of humour already. Usually it spreads rapidly, I guess you'll be impertinent at will in about a week's time, depending on how often you two meet. So, I guess I'm forgiven?'

'You are, Mr Manners. And I accept your proposition, on both counts. I do need to see a doctor. And Elizabeth, since I'm obviously not immune to your influence and I desperately need some courage and ability to talk back to people, will you accompany us? I'd rather have you along than my uncle or cousin, no matter how kind they are to me. This asks for female company I think.'

'I'm very glad to find you so accepting of me, Anne. I'll gladly accompany you.'

Shortly after this conversation, the three girls leave, and Elizabeth seeks out Frederick to tell him about Anne's designs on him.

'I've wanted to tell you this earlier, Frederick, but I forgot in all the commotion over Mr Collins. Miss de Bourgh caught your admiring look at Simon, you know, when we were buying dresses? Only she thought it was meant for her, and now she intends to catch you. She tells me she is not in love with you, but I suspect it won't take much to win her heart, she seems so starved of love.'

He has become such a good friend, no matter how much she wants to spend time just with Fitzwilliam, she will miss this man a lot, especially once he takes Simon away with him to explore foreign countries. He does not seem surprised or worried as he replies.

'Thank you so much for your warning, Elizabeth, you're a good friend. I must admit I'm not unprepared, it's not as if I'm not under constant siege by well-born young ladies. Ask your man, he must have managed to elude any number of them since he was still free at twenty-seven to fall for a superior woman when he finally met her.

But Miss de Bourgh is smart enough, and good company. And I don't think she'll fall in love again so soon, my guess is she's still not entirely clear of your handsome man, she still watches him a lot. I'm going to assume Miss de Bourgh is merely wanting to have a good time with me, and I am very willing to give her what I think she has a right to.'

'So you had noticed already, and decided it wasn't going to cause problems? You are as familiar with her as ever.'

'You are very observant, Elizabeth, but you are forgetting I have sources of information that you lack.'

He likes being ahead of her, a big smile transforms his plain features to almost handsome. Not in a noble way, like Fitzwilliam, whose beauty can easily resemble aloofness if he isn't in a lively mood. Charming, like a slightly naughty schoolboy, that's what Frederick looks like when he is happy. Very charming, but not at all what he really is, though Elizabeth is certain he can be very naughty.

'Simon already warned me, Elizabeth. Mrs Collins told Fanny, who asked Simon whether I had to be informed. He told her he'd take care of it, and she just let it go there and then, that girl is a treasure for being discrete. Also, Mr Collins praised me excessively to my face, and again to Simon, not hesitating to express his hopes for his patroness' daughter's happiness once connected to my exalted family.'

'I should have known. But I could not see you knew, not at all.'

Frederick smiles again.

'I suppose if I wasn't a rich gentleman free to pursue a life of intrigue, I would be an actor. I've been playing a part all my life, Elizabeth, I've gotten really good at it. You see the real me most of the time, and in the company you keep I'm almost myself. But the rest of London would not recognise the Frederick Manners you'd describe.'

That is so sad!

'Don't feel bad for me, I've had an easy life, I like acting. Nobody forced me to become a public figure, I could have stayed on my estate entertaining other gentlemen of my inclinations, or handsome stable-boys and huntsmen. Even now I could take Simon there and make some changes in my staff, there are ways to find people who do not talk. But I like society, and he does, too. It's just that we cannot enjoy it together. At least your cousin is gone so we can pick up our German classes together.'

The next day, Frederick takes Elizabeth with him to pick up Miss de Bourgh for her appointment with the doctor. Once the carriage is moving, he asks, 'Elizabeth, I've just heard something that really concerns me, and I'd like your opinion. It has to do with Miss de Bourgh. You know I introduced her to the Blackwood girls, because they're great fun and of an excellent family. But now I must confess to you that I had heard some rumours of those girls engaging in pastimes that are not considered suitable for sheltered ladies, and I hoped Miss de Bourgh would agree to befriend them and find out exactly what they do. Spy on them, frankly. She agreed to do so, I expect her to have some information for me soon.

Now you know they were here yesterday, and Simon talked to their favourite retainer, a fellow in his twenties named Nick. He was very willing to tell Simon about his special connection to Angelina and Sophie. Apparently they trust him in everything, even let him make decisions as if he's their father or maybe an older brother. They tell him about some spectacular place they want to see, and he decides whether it's possible for him and his colleagues to keep the girls safe there. If so, he takes them there.

He told Simon the girls dance with him and his fellow retainers, they obey his orders when they are in some questionable place or neighbourhood. I feel bad about getting Miss de Bourgh into this. Should I warn their parents? I cannot betray Simon's involvement.'

Elizabeth takes a few minutes to digest all the information, then observes, 'Miss de Bourgh is a sensible woman, Frederick, not an impressionable girl. If what they are doing is so bad, she may be able to convince them to give it up. You should tell her, though. Unless you think she is in serious danger, then you should advise her to drop the connection. But you saw yesterday how little she likes being led or forced. She needs to make decisions for herself, and I bet she liked being confided in by you. I think she is a perfect spy, young enough to fit in, and old enough to stay sensible.

Was this retainer disrespectful towards his employer's daughters?'

'No, he actually seemed rather fond of them. But it all sounds so inappropriate.'

'Well, you'll insult Anne if you demand or even urge her not to go. All you can do is tell her what Simon heard and let her decide for herself.'

'But I cannot let her know I'm close to Simon. She'll suspect something is going on there. And he cannot tell her for he shouldn't even know she is invited to those trips. Besides, she wouldn't listen to a mere servant. And you cannot tell her, for you shouldn't know about those trips either.'

That is all true, but Elizabeth is certain something will come up to solve this.

'You don't need to tell her which servant told you, do you?'

'You are right. I'll take your advice and give her the information. Then she can decide for herself whether she wants to go or not. Thank you for your opinion, Elizabeth. I really tend to forget that decisiveness is often confused with being bossy.'

After a merry lunch with the girls and their father, Anne is ready to go out. Waiting for Elizabeth and Mr Manners in the parlour she feels rather apprehensive, what if she has something dangerous after all? She doesn't feel that bad, but she's still so tired all the time, and though she eats well, it's always an effort. And what if the doctor leaves her even worse off, as maman's favourite always seems to do?

She hasn't told Sophie and Angelina where she is going, they'll start pampering her and she wants them to take her seriously, especially since she may have to intervene in their amusements pretty soon. If Mr Blackwood finds out what they are doing they will most likely be banished to a convent, or at the very least their freedom will be severely restricted, and they're too nice to let them risk having to lead the life she led for so long. Better choose their outings a little more carefully and keep the freedom.

'I hope your business in town is not as bad as it seems, Miss de Bourgh.'

What? It's that Nick, the girls' manservant. How dare he address her so familiarly! Though he does not sound disrespectful, none of maman's servants would ever dare talk to her without being spoken to first.

But this is not maman's house, and Angelina and Sophie like this man very much, trust him like an older brother, Anne suspects he is the only thing standing between the girls and irremediable infamy. He may be the only person who can convince them to tone down their amusements just a little.

And Darcy also keeps an outspoken servant and seems very fond of him. Maybe she should try to win this man's trust, and see how that works out. He's a nice enough looking fellow, not elegant but strong, and with a frank and open face, though right now it's changed to decidedly hesitant.

Studying his very serviceable livery boots intently, he speaks in a low voice, 'I'm very sorry, Miss de Bourgh. I seem to have displeased you. Please forgive me, it will not happen again.'

So he knows he's out of line. He merely treated her as one of the girls from his young mistress' clique. Anne realises that she finds his sudden diffidence very appealing, she wants to touch him, put a hand on his shoulder to reassure him. Her strong feelings are slightly worrisome, has she been held back so much at home that she now wants to repress the people below her to feel powerful?

Keeping her hands to herself really carefully, she does reassure the faithful servant with words, and to prove to herself that she does not need to browbeat helpless servants to feel good about herself she makes sure to be very kind.

'Never mind, Nick, I know the young ladies allow you to be very familiar. You merely startled me, maman's servants do not address members of the family unless spoken to.'

Her intent to fit into this family while under their roof must be clear to him, for he lifts his gaze back to hers and actually dares to reply cheekily.

'What if there was a fire, Miss de Bourgh? Would they let your maman burn for not daring to warn her?'

Though a ridiculous example, it does bring home to Anne what this is all about: loyalty. Servants are people, too, and if one gives them trust, they return it in the shape of loyalty. Nick likes his mistresses, because they acknowledge his humanity. And she can't help smiling over his impudence, she's trying to learn some of that herself and she so appreciates it in Elizabeth. It's a sign of intelligence, and a good heart, she is convinced.

'I suppose so, it never came up. Nothing exciting ever happens at Rosings, that's why I came to London.'

And on impulse she adds, 'I'm going to consult a doctor, I've been suffering from faintness and lack of vigour for almost ten years now. I'm very afraid nothing can be done, that I'll have to spend the rest of my life in a haze of fatigue. I don't want Angelina and Sophie to know, or they'll treat me like an invalid.'

The effect is immediate. Nick bows solemnly and says with utter respect, 'I'm sorry to hear that, Miss, please rest assured no-one will hear anything from me. If you need anything special while you are staying here, please let me know. I'll make sure you get it without having to ask the master or the young ladies.'

So that's how it works. Anne is sure he isn't trying to get some hold over her, her display of trust will cause him to exert himself for her, gladly. A good servant does his work and only speaks when he is spoken to. She could undoubtedly get Nick to do that, though by now the very thought of treating a human being that way is almost disgusting to Anne. But very clearly the best servant is one who actually wants to please his mistress, because she trusts him. Nick will not merely do what he is paid for, out of loyalty he will go far beyond that, even for a mere visitor like Miss de Bourgh.

A carriage can be heard outside, and Nick peers out of a window.

'It's Mr Manners' carriage, Miss.'

Anne gets up, slowly, if she moves too fast she sometimes feels faint. It's obvious her attendant is restraining himself from offering his assistance, he is astute as well as obliging. As soon as she is standing up, however, he does hold out her coat for her, he must have had that on hand somewhere. The butler is nowhere to be seen.

Thanking Nick, Anne dons her coat and closes the buttons, then walks towards the door. He opens it for her, and as she passes him he says calmly and with apparent sincerity, 'Good luck, Miss de Bourgh.'

He is already adapting to how he thinks Anne wants to be treated: a little more respectful than Sophie and Angelina, she's considerably older after all, but with a little room for kindness and humour, even if that means talking to her without having been spoken to.

Mr Manners is already holding the carriage door open for her, and Anne can see Elizabeth inside. Well, the sooner they reach the doctor's office, the sooner she knows how bad it is.


	81. Chapter 81

Chapter 91

Mr Manners can see her anxiety as well as the servant, of course, and he doesn't hesitate to take her hand in his.

'Miss de Bourgh, I'm sure it will all be fine. This is a very good doctor, I have great trust in him. Though I may be predisposed in favour of him since he doesn't believe in bloodletting.'

This is said with humour, but in fact Anne is deadly afraid of bloodletting. Ever since her illness right after her father's decease, she has been plagued by her mother's physician practising his only skill on any ailment she contracted. When her monthly bleedings started and were so painful and accompanied by such profuse blood loss that she could not venture from her rooms for at least two days out of every month, she could not hide her suffering from her maid and thus her mother, no matter how shameful the cause of her misery.

The doctor proclaimed she must have an excess of blood to purge it so copiously once a month, and convinced her mother that letting it out gradually over the duration of the month would save Miss de Bourgh the two or three days of extreme pain her period caused her. Anne was desperately afraid of the doctor and his lancet, but maman brooked no resistance, and Anne was bled twice a week from that moment on. After those treatments she felt weak and listless for days, and her monthly bleedings weren't reduced at all.

But the pains did get a lot better, so Anne bore with the bloodletting, though she privately suspected the powders the doctor provided for her to take against the pain had a lot more to do with her relief than the main treatment.

Does Mr Manners really not love her? She has to believe Elizabeth, who knows him so much better than Anne does, but such kindness, such concern, can a man really feel that for just another young lady of his acquaintance?

Mr Manners has sat down next to her in his beautiful carriage and has an arm over her shoulder. She must have shown her fear of doctors. If she wants to stay in London, she will have to learn to control her feelings, it just will not do to have even the servants fussing over her.

'Miss de Bourgh, are you afraid of going to the doctor? You almost fainted at the mention of bloodletting, did someone bleed you dry under the pretence of curing you? Regularly?'

The anger in Mr Manners' voice is not directed at her, but apparently at doctors who regard bloodletting as a cure-all. Maman wouldn't agree, she swears it has kept her healthy for all these years while her sister and several aunts and other relatives were sickly and often suffered from spells of the lungs. But maman is strong as an ox, she never felt faint after bloodletting though she bled much faster than Anne, filling the same cup in minutes instead of close to an hour. Seeing her mother bleed never caused Anne fainting spells, nor did the sight of her own blood. It was only afterwards that she felt wrung out and weak, often for days.

'Twice a week, Mr Manners, from the moment I became a woman up until a week before my uncle fetched me to visit London. Maman says it will make me as strong as she is.'

Anne is not inclined to tell a relative stranger, a gentleman she has certain designs on, that she bleeds so heavily each month that she is indisposed for days. It's just so...embarrassing.

'Small wonder you look ready to run and hide, those butchers are so eager to kill anyone with their fleams and lancets. I'm getting more and more hope for your total recovery. But let's wait for Dr Parker to examine you and ask you a thousand questions. And not all of them entirely decorous, Miss de Bourgh, but I entreat you to answer them nonetheless, his school of medicine believes in looking at the patient in his or her entirety, not just a little part of them.

Oh, we're here already. You still look a little faint, may I offer you my arm to support you?'

'I suppose I am a bit afraid of your doctor, Mr Manners. If you help me out of the carriage I will manage. I need to learn to control my feelings a little better or London will be unsafe for me. No-one will take me seriously, even the manservant just now enquired whether I was feeling well. I want to be free, and that means helping myself.'

'A Blackwood servant?' Manners asks, rather pointedly.

'Yes, Mr Manners. The girls' favourite, they call him Nick.'

Now he looks positively serious, does he know something about this fellow?

'Did he insult you, Miss de Bourgh?'

For some reason, Anne feels bound to come to the man's defence, he meant well, he should not get in trouble over his kind concern for a lady in some distress.

'He most certainly did not,' she replies with determination. 'He was very polite, and you know Sophie and Angelina encourage him to be very familiar. When he noticed my displeasure at being addressed spontaneously he felt it very much. And I had to review my own behaviour towards him and servants in general. He was merely concerned and I did not react well.

How so, have you heard something about him? I do think he keeps Sophie and Angelina out of trouble, you know.'

'Merely some gossip from the servants' quarters, it may be nothing. But first we'll see the doctor.'

Elizabeth has said nothing besides greeting Anne as she enters the carriage, but she is listening with intent. Something is going on between Anne and Frederick, and it's not love. It's a kind of plot involving the Blackwood girls, who apparently need protection from, well, from themselves, if she hears correctly.

Poor Anne, to be sickly for so long and have to bear with twice weekly bloodlettings on top of that. Elizabeth regrets all the uncharitable thoughts she directed towards Fitzwilliam's cousin, when all this time she was really unwell and probably unable to be more lively and interested in the world around her. She cannot imagine how Anne can fail to fall in love with Frederick, with him so incredibly kind and showing his softest side, and her already inclined towards him.

Fortunately he does stick to his promise to merely assist her out of the carriage, as soon as she's on the pavement he releases her hand and merely walks by her side. And she is not showing any distress, she was probably right, her anxiety caused her to feel a little faint. Elizabeth has never suffered from any faintness herself, for as long as she can remember she has been ill only rarely, and privately she is convinced Lady Catherine is of that same kind, inherently strong and not likely to ever be sick. No-one has ever tried to bleed Elizabeth, she'd like to see them try, especially now, with Fitzwilliam guarding her like a fearsome wolf.

It appears Anne wants Elizabeth by her side even in the doctor's office, a very cosy space about half the size of Fitzwilliam's study and clearly the haunt of a man obsessed with his work. There are large cabinets on all walls, except of course the front with the large windows and where the door is. The cabinets consist of bookshelves stuffed to the brim with books of every age and description, brand-new volumes with gold leaf lettering as well as old tomes with battered leather covers and sagged bindings. One cabinet has little drawers from bottom to top, there must be a hundred of them, all marked with neat, hand-written labels. The cabinets are obviously well-used, but they look in perfect order.

The desk however is huge, half again the size of Fitzwilliam's, and very cluttered. There is a tiny clear space where the doctor can write, but the rest is filled up with papers, instruments and some very cleverly made models of what Elizabeth guesses must be insides of people. Though incredibly life-like to Elizabeth's untrained eye, they have to be models for there is no smell besides a certain herb she should be able to identify but cannot, and the musty odour of old books. No cloying smell of blood or worse.

Also in the room is a kind of bed on high legs, covered with a large cloth, and a screen behind it. That must be for the patients to undress behind, and the bed to examine them. The doctor himself has a very comfortable chair, and after shaking hands and an introduction by Frederick they have taken place on two elegant but much more simple chairs on their side of the desk. Frederick has taken leave politely, he is waiting for them in the hall, this is why Anne wanted a woman present, she will be asked to undress at least partially and of course not even her uncle or the Colonel would feel comfortable to remain in the same room with her.

The doctor himself is as neat as his cabinets, and his looks do help to trust him. He is on the wrong side of fifty, with a neat grey beard, short grey hair that still seems rather abundant for his age, and a trim figure, smartly dressed. As they came in he was reading with great concentration, but after his butler announced them he took off his spectacles, carefully folded them and put them on top of a pile of papers.

And now he sits in his chair and asks, 'Will you please tell me the symptoms of your indisposition and when they first occurred, Miss de Bourgh?'

Anne starts out with quite a bit of anxiety, but since the doctor listens to her with patience and interest, she soon calms down and relates her lack of energy and spirit dryly. The doctor now and then asks her to specify certain things, and is nodding in understanding. When Anne has finished, he says, 'I have several things I'd like to see for myself, if you'll please go behind that screen and remove your shoes, coat and any long-sleeved garment you are wearing, then lie down for me, I will start my examination.'

And the doctor is very thorough in his examination, but also very gentle. He checks all kinds of things, like eye-whites, the inside of her mouth, her breath, her pulse, and explains why he does it. Then he holds out her arm and points at her skin, asking, 'You say you were bled regularly, was that always in this part of your arms?'

'No, sir, maman's doctor started there, but when he couldn't find the veins anymore he moved to my ankles, then when they had gone useless he turned to my neck. That was very bad, his face was so close to mine and I felt so helpless.'

The neat little doctor seems to be holding in quite some anger, and he mutters, 'Another beautiful young woman disfigured for life.'

Then to Anne, 'Did you bleed out quickly, or slowly?'

'Very slowly, doctor. It sometimes took a full hour to fill the cup which maman filled to the brim in maybe ten minutes.'

'And may I ask why your doctor saw fit to bleed you dry, what was it, every other week?'

'Twice a week, doctor. He said it would stop me from bleeding profusely and suffering great pains during my monthly inconvenience.'

The doctor in all seriousness utters a terrible profanity, and asks with dreadful calmness, 'And did it? Did the bleeding stop, and did it relieve the pain?'

'No, doctor, the bleeding remained as it was, and I think it was the powder he gave me to take whenever I was in pain that actually helped against the cramps. I often felt very weak after his treatments.'

Now the doctor rights himself, showing he is indeed a rather small man, but with plenty of presence.

'Young lady, you may think you are weak, but I put it to you that you must have an iron constitution to still be alive. Your doctor did his very best to kill you, fortunately all that he succeeded in was permanently disfiguring your arms and ankles. Your neck seems fine, at least the scars don't show that much.'

'He only did that three times. Then uncle Spencer fetched me to go to London. Do you really think bloodletting is bad for a person?'

'The occasional bloodletting isn't very harmful, Miss de Bourgh, but twice a week? When you already lose so much blood every month-time? Our good Lord didn't put all that blood in our bodies for nothing, Miss, we need it. How long ago was your last bloodletting? These two cuts are healed, but not yet scars, I'd say not a month old?'

'Two weeks, doctor. Last time I fainted dead away, I think with fright, but the doctor decided to wait a week before doing it again anyway.'

'You may be very thankful to your uncle for putting you beyond reach of your doctor, or butcher, more likely. Mr Manners, too, but even without a real doctor you would eventually have recovered, with your blood staying where it should be, inside you. As it is, I think I can help you feel much better within the week. Just promise me you will never let anyone calling himself a doctor bleed you again. Ever.'

'I do, doctor.'

'Good. Now let me tell you what I think has been wrong with you for, you say ten years?'

'From the time I became a woman, doctor.'

Another profanity.

'Some women bleed stronger and more painfully than others, Miss de Bourgh. No-one knows why, though it seems to be something that goes from mother to daughter. It is inconvenient, but not very harmful. Painkillers help, I will give you some to take during your next time.

Losing so much blood does seem to make woman feel faint, like after a bloodletting. I will give you a list of foods that have proven to strengthen the rest of the blood, to help you gain strength and appetite. I also think your blood is a little weak of itself, you tell me it flowed slowly, that is a sign of weak blood. That is not harmful in itself, it can cause you to feel a little dizzy getting up, or looking up. The same foods I told you about just now will help for that, too.

So, with good food, painkillers to stop the monthly pain, and no more bloodlettings,' the doctor accentuates those three words, 'I think you will feel better within a week, improving up until about a month from now, to allow the food to reach its full effect. To help make your blood stronger I also advise you to exercise regularly. A long walk every day, or riding a horse, or running up and down a long staircase ten or twenty times. I guess a long walk is the easiest until you feel a lot better. Dancing is good, fencing if you feel the inclination. Wrestling is very good for the blood, but no-one will teach a lady how to wrestle I'm afraid.

Do you have any questions?'

'Only one, doctor. How come I felt weak for ten years because of the bloodletting, and maman felt much better for it?'

The doctor thinks for a few moments, then explains.

'Your maman bleeds quickly, you say?'

Anne nods.

'I guess she has strong blood, then, and strong blood replenishes itself more quickly. Also, guessing her age from your own, her monthly bleedings will have stopped. Besides, dear child, some people have a very strong mind. If they believe something is good for them, they can feel it, and nothing anyone says will convince them otherwise.'

'That is maman all right,' Anne remarks dryly.

'Did he bleed her twice a week?' the doctor now asks.

'I don't think so, he bled her once a week, together with me, but when I was waiting for the cup to fill up the second time he would take her somewhere else for the rest of the hour. Maybe he bled maman somewhere else.'

Oh my God.

Elizabeth manages to keep her surprise and anger hidden quite well, but the doctor has had it.

'Damn him. No wonder he skipped one when you fainted, couldn't leave you with a sliced neck to bleed dry while he 'treated' his patron lady.'

The sarcasm in his voice confirms what the new, worldly-wise Elizabeth instantly comprehends, but innocent Anne doesn't get it at all. Well, Elizabeth is not going to tell her, and neither is the doctor. But Fitzwilliam will know before Elizabeth has crossed the threshold of their house for more than five minutes, to make sure that Anne is not going back to Rosings, to be slowly drained of blood and life to give her mother and the doctor an excuse to be together. Damn them both!

As Anne dresses behind the screen, the doctor puts on his spectacles and writes down some kind of list. Then he rings a bell, and the butler enters the office.

'Send Mr Manners in, if you will, Dover.'

Within minutes, Frederick is with them, and the doctor summarises what ails Anne and what will cure her quicker than merely waiting for her blood to replenish itself. He does hand the list to Anne herself, not to Frederick, after which he leaves his desk to open one of the little drawers of his cabinet, taking out a bottle with a cork stopper, which he also hands to Anne.

'Use those only when you are in severe pain, not for a common headache. No more than one every six hours, and no more than three each day. No more than three days at a time. It's written on the bottle as well, stick to the instructions very carefully. Do not give them to anyone else, especially not children or elderly people. They can be dangerous.'

Then his kind face turns very serious one more time.

'Miss de Bourgh, you could have died of those bloodlettings. You say he took a cup twice a week, which makes for twelve ounces a week, which is almost five pints of blood each month. That is a quarter of the amount of blood a person has, it's a miracle you survived for so long. You will grow stronger daily, especially if you follow my advice. I'm certain I will not see you again very quickly, you are a very strong young woman who will no longer sicken easily. You'll grow a good deal fatter as well, be prepared to dodge suitors until you find one worthy of your fine person.

Good day, all of you!'

And he shakes hands with all of them, shakes his head another few times, then is back to his reading before they have followed the butler out.

Frederick offers Anne his arm, and she takes it without hesitation.

'I'm going to be strong enough to ride a horse or wrestle soon enough. Or climb a tree for that matter. Right now I need your arm to support me, Mr Manners, so I'm going to take it. I'm stunned. If maman had tried to have me killed she could have done only slightly better.'

And stunned she is, for she does not speak all the way back to their house. Once there, Frederick asks, 'Are you strong enough for a bit of dancing? Shouldn't you rather take an hour's rest?'

But Anne sits up straight, and answers with determination.

'Maybe I should, but I'm not going to. I've lost ten years of my life through my mother's gullibility, I don't even reproach myself for letting them do it, I was past caring. But now I'm going to live, I'm going to cram two days of fun and joy in every day, to make up for all those years I spent at the brink of death. I am sure your doctor is right about the cause of my illness, and pushing myself to exhaustion will not make a difference. So that is what I'm going to do if I feel like it. And today I feel like it, I just got my life back and that calls for a celebration.'

Amen. That is what Elizabeth thinks, but she doesn't say it out loud. Anne will find her own spunk soon enough once her body recovers from years of abuse, she no longer needs Elizabeth to help her with that.

'Then I will help you celebrate, Miss de Bourgh.' Frederick is pleased with the results of this morning's effort, that is clear.

'And so will I, Anne.' If anyone deserves a party, it must be Anne.

And Anne manages quite well. When they get back it's time for tea, and tea at Darcy's place is always very soothing, with beautiful music and a lot of interesting conversation. Half an hour is enough to settle her nerves, and since no-one knows where Anne went, no-one asks. Darcy undoubtedly knows, but he will not ask in front of the others. Besides, Elizabeth lagged behind Mr Manners and Anne, ostensibly to give her husband a good cuddle after a whole hour of separation, but Anne is certain she did it to give him the news. And that is as it should be, husband and wife should have no secrets between them.

After tea, Elizabeth claims the piano, and two couples are formed. First Mr Manners leads Anne through a few dances, and then Mr Fielding requests her hand.

'It's good to practise with different partners,' he says, and he is right, it feels different to dance with him. He is very light on his feet, and though his lead is not as strong as Mr Manners' that is fine, since Anne's energy is still sustaining her.

Then Mr Fielding succeeds Elizabeth at the piano and Anne sits out a few dances, as Elizabeth dances with Darcy first, then with Mr Manners. Georgiana is not tired yet after dancing every turn so far, but after a few rounds with her brother she sits beside her fiancée at the piano, leaving Elizabeth to dance with Mr Manners as ...oh my, Darcy bows to Anne and asks, 'Will you dance with me, Anne?'

This is the first day of the rest of her life, so of course she'll dance with him. He's tall, he's handsome, and he is a great dancer. And he's nothing more to her than her cousin, somehow her crush and her broken dreams belong to her old life. Darcy was never meant for her, Anne wants a lively man, an outgoing, kind man like Mr Manners, and that fellow at the Blackwood mansion.

A servant.

Never mind, she's a bit overexcited, it happens to people who have been told they were at the brink of death but are going to make a full recovery. Tomorrow she'll start walking out, even at the Blackwoods', and she'll have her list taken to the..

If she doesn't want to tell anyone, she'll have to deal with that servant again. Nick is his name. He did offer to help her, and she knows instantly she is going to let him do it. They will be intimate anyway the coming months, if she is going to accompany Sophie and Angelina on their excursions, there is no way she can avoid him, and why should she? It's all about living now, isn't it?

Her mother is nothing, her foolishness cost Anne so dearly. Now she is going to decide for herself, and if she makes some mistakes or does something foolish herself, well, at least she's not going to harm someone else.

'You're not too tired, are you, Anne?'

Darcy is concerned, that's just too cute. He knows, and he will give maman her due, together with Fitzwilliam and uncle Spencer. She is almost to be pitied, those three men against one elderly woman, Anne wouldn't trade places with her for a thousand pounds. She wouldn't anyway, Anne is young, and will live in the present, not in the past glory of a marriage that had lost its shine long before Anne's father passed away. He loved Anne more than he loved maman, and she never forgave Anne for that, no matter how much she clung to her beloved daughter after her husband's decease.

'I feel better than I have in a long time, Darcy. Though I am getting tired, but it will not harm me. I'm going to be strong again, like when I climbed trees with you and we rode your pony bareback. And astride.'

Does he feel it? That Anne is over him? He smiles and observes, 'Elizabeth rides astride. At Pemberley.'

So what if he can only think of one woman? He did go through a lot of trouble to get her, and frankly, she's worth it. He's still a great dancer, and he doesn't mind supporting his cousin, who is starting to falter now.

'You are tired, Anne. Better sit down for a bit and continue some other time. Anne, Elizabeth told me, but I suppose you knew she would, didn't you? We will not tell anyone else without your permission. But I do want you to know that if you need a place to stay after uncle Spencer and Fitzwilliam leave town, you will be welcome to live with us. At Pemberley, too. You cannot go back to Rosings, Anne. Ten years, damn it! If you want to sue the bastard, let me know, we'll all back you up. We can have him in chains and on his way to Australia this time next year.'

He is very frightening when he's angry, Anne is glad this is not aimed at her. And she is very glad to have a place to stay, Darcy always honours his promises.

'Thank you so much, cousin. You have no idea what a relief that is, to be assured of a home where I will not have to fear being killed for my own good. And I do want maman to know what she has done, but I prefer to visit once I'm back to normal, so she'll be able to really see what she did to me. I will tell uncle Spencer and Fitzwilliam, and together we'll decide. Elizabeth, too, I like the way her mind works. She was such a solid companion to have along. You're a lucky man, Darcy, and I want you to know I have no regrets over you. Just over ten lost years, and I suppose I'm merely going to make up for them, not try to seek revenge. That will only cost me another year of my life, and I suppose I can spend my time much better by making fun and building a future while I'm still young.'

Then he kisses her, her reticent cousin, and together they sit on the sofa and dig up childhood memories until it's time for Anne to go back to the Blackwoods' to dress for dinner.

'Are you certain you don't want to go back to uncle Spencer's? To get some rest, and the food you need?'

Darcy is cute when he worries, but Anne already has everything figured out.

'No need, I'm fine. I think I have a contact within the household to arrange my new diet. And regular exercise. You know Fitzwilliam really has to go back to his troops, soon, and uncle doesn't complain, but he suffers from the smoke that chokes the whole city this time of the year. I don't want him to just sit there and wait for me to come home every few days. With your permission I'll stay with friends as long as they enjoy my presence and I enjoy theirs, and then I'll come here. I no longer care what maman thinks or does, and I'm sure you can handle her. You, and uncle and Fitzwilliam, even Mr Manners. He was angry, too.'

'Elizabeth and I will be in Newcastle for three weeks, her youngest sister is in distress, but Georgie and Mr Fielding will be here, with Elizabeth's eldest sister to chaperone. You'll like her, she's very sweet.'

And when Mr Manners' carriage pulls up in front of the town house where her friends live, Anne is quite certain what to do. This time it's the butler who takes her coat, but Anne knows no-one in this house will think anything of her next request.

'Will you please send Nick into the parlour? I have some business to discuss with him.'

The butler says, 'Yes, Miss de Bourgh,' politely, and leaves, taking her coat. Anne takes herself to the parlour and chooses the best seat to wait for her friends' favourite manservant.

He arrives very shortly, and bows deeply.

'You sent for me, Miss de Bourgh?'

It's a bit too much this time, he's not that humble, he's indulging her, giving her what he thinks she wants, maybe even needs.

'I did, Nick. Will you please stop the humble act? It doesn't suit you, nor do I deserve it.'

He perks up instantly, and now only his voice sounds humble, his face the total opposite with a surprised smile.

'Yes, Miss. Indeed I'm not humble by nature, but you do deserve respect, Miss.'

Then his face turns serious.

'Will you tell me about the doctor?'

He does doubt his reception, still he asks, of course he's used to being indulged in this household.

'I will, but not now, it's nearly time for dinner. You offered to help me out with anything I need, does that offer still stand?'

No hesitation at all, he must be in a position to back it up then.

'Yes, Miss. You name it, and your humble servant will get it done.'

'I have instructions from the doctor that I need to eat these foods. Not all the same time, I will get better without them, but they will help me get stronger faster. Can you ask the cook to include some in the menu, or will I have to ask Mr Blackwood?'

'So you will get better, then! I'm glad to hear it, Miss de Bourgh. And yes, I believe I can just give your list to the cook, if it's not too exotic he'll make it for you. He thinks you're too thin, it offends his professional pride to have a lean lady in what he sees as his household.'

He takes the list from her, and offers, 'Shall I copy it then return it? I suppose your uncle's cook will need it, too, for when you dine with him?'

That is very nice of him, but he must have other duties. She can copy it herself, but not if the cook has it. Bother. Well, it's not that much work, better not make a fuss.

'Thank you, Nick. You're very kind.'

'My pleasure, Miss. Is there anything else you need?'

Well, here goes.

'Actually, there is, but I hardly dare ask. If it's too much trouble, or interferes with your duties, please do not hesitate to tell me so. I need to exercise every day, and the doctor suggested I take long walks. But of course I cannot go out without an attendant, and I have only my maid, who would not be of any help to avoid trouble.'

Before she even needs to pose the difficult question he offers.

'Yes, I can accompany you. An hour each day? Before breakfast? Or would you prefer to go after?'

'Would you? And can you be spared? Before is more sensible, don't you think?'

'I am sure it is, but most young ladies prefer not to get up too early.'

That is true, at least for his young ladies, they like to stay in bed until their maid has to get them ready before breakfast is served.

'Not I. I'm going to be well, and gain a lot of weight, and I'm going to enjoy life and not waste another minute, not even before breakfast.'

'In that case, Miss, I'll wait for you in this very room an hour before breakfast. Are you certain your family approves of your walking out with just a manservant to accompany you?'

'I'm an adult, and an independent woman, Nick. I will tell you tomorrow morning why maman has lost her right to decide what I do with my life. Thank you very much, and see you tomorrow.'

'Actually, tonight, Miss. We're going to another concert, remember?'

And seeing her face he adds softly, 'You can plead off if you're not well, Miss. Everyone has a headache once in awhile.'

'I'll think about it. Thank you, Nick, for reminding me.'

He bows, deeply again, then leaves the room, list in hand. Anne stays for another ten minutes, collecting her wits and her thoughts. She is actually looking forward to telling this servant about her visit to the doctor. It may get her in terrible trouble, but then again, it may not. She doesn't care that much anymore. She likes him.


	82. Chapter 82

Chapter 92

When Darcy leads his beloved into the concert hall that evening, he cannot find his cousin in her friends' party. Worried that she may have overstrained herself that afternoon, he saunters towards the gaggle of girls and finds them indeed escorted solely by three young liveried servants, no chaperones. The girls are chatting to the exclusion of the outside world, but one of the servants, a rather sturdy chap with a friendly face, addresses him respectfully.

'Begging your pardon, Mr Darcy, for imposing on you like this, but Miss de Bourgh asked me to tell anyone of your party who enquired after her that she decided to stay with Mr and Mrs Blackwood tonight. She needed some time to order her thoughts.'

Darcy must have shown his worry clearly, and this fellow must be one of Simon's ilk, for he adds, 'Miss de Bourgh wasn't indisposed, sir, she ate really well of a dish our cook prepared at her request. She told me to assure all of you she will be a little better tomorrow and every day after that.'

He bows beautifully, he is trying to show Darcy the respect a gentleman is entitled to, which is more than Simon does for anyone. As far as Darcy knows, Simon even treated Lady Catherine like any other person. Politely, of course, but without undue deference.

'Thank you...' Darcy starts out.

'Fowler, sir. But most people call me Nick.'

'Thank you Nick. I'll tell the rest. Will you give her my best wishes?'

The man, not that much younger than Darcy himself, bows deeply.

'Of course, Mr Darcy, thank you for your kindness.'

Does the fellow presume to speak for Anne, or is he glad not to be chewed out for talking to his better? His posture suggests the latter, and Darcy acknowledges it with a nod, then walks back to their own seats. The girls haven't even spotted him. Elizabeth has told him there is something going on with those girls, and both Manners and Anne seem to know it and want to do something about it. Maybe Manners sent Anne in to save their...yes, what? It seems as if their manservant is doing an excellent job of keeping them out of trouble, he seems able enough. What can Anne do that the fellow cannot? Darcy decides to spend this concert observing them, Fielding is a handsome fellow but Darcy can look at him all day, though arguably not in this fabulous outfit.

Darcy knows Manners by now, he is a complicated man, and as such may have hatched a convoluted plan. But Anne is Darcy's cousin, and he feels guilty about what was done to her without his ever noticing something was terribly amiss. He merely ignored his poor cousin, made crude remarks about her to Fitzwilliam. It's time to make up to her.

Watching the little group of girls is not that hard, he is seated perfectly to do so unnoticed. And is Elizabeth doing exactly the same thing? It surely seems that way, not that there is anything really remarkable to be seen. The girls keep chatting until the show starts, watch the concert in stunned silence, then try to make their way to the front to talk to Eric. He recognises them and greets them with a hearty handshake. The servant, Nick, the others stay back and wait for their leader, herds his charges out of the fray before their presence becomes a nuisance. It's the first time he intervenes, he seems to have them well-trained otherwise. For it certainly looks as if he is in charge, no matter how servile he acts. Of course Anne will never stand such treatment, something strange is indeed going on, and tonight they are having the truth of it from Manners.

Back home, Eric and Georgie immediately take Eric's fee to the study, the sealed envelopes are piling up steadily, it's time for them to decide what to do with it, invest or save up. They know most available options by now, though suddenly Darcy thinks of one extra, not exactly suitable for a landed gentleman, but possibly very profitable: invest in Mr Gardiner's enterprises. Darcy is convinced Elizabeth's uncle makes a tidy profit on his business, and tradesmen are always looking for investors. Maybe he should talk to him as well, invest some of the money he has reserved for Elizabeth. Times are changing, and Mr Gardiner is very careful to keep his trade respectable.

But first, Manners. It's time for him to come clear about what he is getting Anne into, he promised to protect her, whatever is going on? Darcy wants to enjoy his trip to Newcastle, not worry about his cousin being herded towards trouble by some family-retainer.

Well, if there is one thing one can call Manners, it's observant. As soon as Georgie and Eric are out of the room, he offers, 'The confidence room? I can explain, really.'

Maybe, just maybe, Georgie and Fielding will not go straight to the piano, but Darcy won't bet on it. Still, if Manners wants to sit somewhere really secluded and especially, quiet, it's fine. Elizabeth does not wait for an invitation, though Anne is no relative of hers she did beg Elizabeth to accompany her to the doctor, a visit she turned out to dread beyond all else.

As soon as they are sitting together, Simon brings a bottle of wine and three glasses. On impulse, Darcy says calmly, 'Please stay, Simon. Maybe get yourself a glass first?'

He will be very useful to gauge this Nick's motives.

Darcy uses Simon's absence to pour wine in the three glasses, the silence in the room starting to get positively noisy. When Simon returns with a fourth glass, Darcy nods at him to fill it himself and is instantly obeyed. Suddenly regretting his lack of courtesy towards his trusted man he realises that paying someone a wage does not give him ownership of that person's dignity.

'I'm sorry, Simon. I should have asked politely. Common courtesy never hurt anyone.'

Simon throws his master and former idol a mild look, they used to be so close, and he still understands Darcy better than anyone except Elizabeth.

'I'm very glad to have a chance to drink this quality wine, sir,' he replies cheekily, taking most of the discomfort out of the situation as well as letting Darcy know he's forgiven, even before he has asked. Simon is still very fond of his master.

They toast, and Manners waits for Darcy to speak first. He can be considerate of another man's status.

'What is going on, Manners?' Darcy blurts out, 'I see things and hear things but I have no idea what to think. Is my cousin in danger? Will she be herded from concert to concert by a Blackwood retainer? I thought those girls would be excellent company for Anne?'

It's obvious Manners expected things to work out totally differently, and he carefully replies.

'I think I made a grave error of judgement, Darcy. I thought the Blackwood girls were proper, ladylike girls from an excellent family. I admit there were rumours that they were a bit wild, and I guessed Miss de Bourgh would like that, since her life has been rather the opposite so far. I thought she might enjoy herself and do a bit of spying for me, I was really curious what those girls were up to.

But now I've heard things from Simon that worry me, and yet Elizabeth tells me I cannot pull her out. It's obvious you've been watching their little group closely tonight, as have I, as, no doubt, has Elizabeth. Can you tell us what you've heard, Simon?'

'Sure, Frederick. Don't beat yourself up over it, you couldn't have known. Besides, I still doubt there is reason to worry. Nick knows those girls and he will not let them do anything really bad. But I'll tell you what he told me.'

This is a Simon Darcy has never seen before, an adult man who admonishes his partner not to make a fuss. He has truly grown because of his relationship with Manners, who is instantly moonstruck. Darcy feels the tension leave him, if Simon thinks it's not that bad, he seems to have the best information and he knows servants.

'You know I often hear things from other servants, and when those girls visited yesterday Frederick asked me to go talk with their retainer, so I did.

He seemed a bit edgy until I addressed him nicely, and then he got talkative, he was very pleased the girls liked Mr Fielding so much, it made it easy to keep them out of trouble. They usually wanted to seek more exciting entertainment, like watching a hanging, or go dancing in a lower-class establishment. When I showed an interest he described how that went about, how the girls kept the nature of their entertainments from their parents, and how he and his colleagues tried to keep the girls safe by being a kind of older brother.

They always go out one-on-one, a servant for each girl, his master hires an extra hand and the girls' friends bring their own men. Usually, they dress in livery and Nick has a nasty weapon hidden under it, I'm sure he knows how to handle a slapjack, he's a burly chap like Frederick here, only toughened on the streets. I like him. He mentioned Miss de Bourgh, said he had high hopes for her talking some sense into the girls.'

'I saw him herding them out after the concert. Imagine Anne being browbeat by a servant!'

Simon sounds a lot more respectful to Darcy than to Manners, but he does manage to make a difference between Darcy's twenty-five year old cousin and those eighteen or nineteen year old spoiled girls.

'Nick has a lot of respect for Miss de Bourgh, sir. He'd never herd her, in fact he hopes she'll lead them towards more suitable entertainment. Though I did not get the impression he disliked going to those dances or even a rancid theatre with his girls. He likes to see them enjoy themselves, and if it can be done without real risk, he will do it.'

Darcy remembers visiting a rundown carnival with Mrs Younge, it was very entertaining, he'd have taken her to any establishment she wanted, as long as there was no chance of being caught at it by his connections. These days, he'd have to fear running into the press.

'Remember that blood-soaked show in the old theatre, Elizabeth?'

'I do, it was great fun. Fitzwilliam, it doesn't sound as if Anne is in real danger, so I suggest we leave it up to her what she wants to do. You're just her cousin, you know. You're entitled to worry about her, but not to patronise her. I'm sure she will be just fine, she's an adult woman. Why don't you go see her tomorrow, Frederick, tell her what Simon told us, listen to what she has heard from the girls, then let her make an informed decision. I've let Simon teach me all about city life, so I don't see why Anne shouldn't listen to an informed servant when she wants to learn about society. She's terribly naïve, and she knows it.'

Simon nods, he agrees with Elizabeth, and Darcy is very proud of his beloved. Manners seems a lot less frantic already.

'Well, if you two say so, I cannot but have faith in your judgement and stop worrying so much. He did get those girls out at exactly the right moment, just before they made a nuisance of themselves.'

'And do not be mistaken in the trouble four or five self-assured spoiled ladies can give, Frederick,' Elizabeth adds pertly, 'it takes quite a strong will to deal with that. Remember, I have four sisters, and my father never managed to control the youngest two of them. Frankly, make that three, I'm positive I chose to behave, or maybe Jane's excellent example forced me to adapt a veneer of civilisation. London society and the press finally managed to tame me.'

'Please let that be untrue, my beloved. I love your impertinence and it would gravely disappoint me if you continued wearing the latest fashion and make-up once we're back at Pemberley.'

'I can't wait to be back on a horse astride and in breeches,' Elizabeth retorts gaily.

Darcy knows he must clearly show his anticipation, but he doesn't care. The others know he adores her, as they adore each other.

As if in some silent agreement they do not retreat to the drawing-room, not yet. They finish the bottle of wine in a close companionship that Simon can share. And though they discuss all kinds of issues, politics, art, literature, never once does Darcy feel as if Simon is not part of this little group.

Anne wakes up in her own guestroom at the Blackwood town-house. It was not that she was in pain or too tired to go out with Angelina and Sophie last night, it was just their age, and their insatiable lust for amusement, it reminded her of her own best years spent in a deathlike state. This morning she feels much better, the past is the past, today she will start working on her health, and a place in London society, either from this house or her cousin Darcy's. Marriage will probably be best, but she's not going to wait for Prince Charming to drop by. She is still prepared to make compromises, undying love is not required, respect and kindness is. Her name and fortune, as well as her status as heir to Rosings, practically guarantee an abundance of suitors, and Anne is planning to choose the one who will allow her the most freedom.

Mr Manners is still very much in the running.

She dresses quickly but carefully, her maid is used to the hours Angelina and Sophie keep, no matter, she'll need to change anyway after a brisk walk, let Dora do her other duties now and not be the wiser what her mistress does before breakfast. Maybe she should send her back to Kent, she may be a spy for maman. Servants gossip, she can ask Nick what Dora is like with her peers.

Once in the parlour, a pleasant surprise awaits her. A steaming cup of tea and a delectable treat pull her in by their lovely scent, and she can feel her stomach growl in response. Though the room is empty, there is no doubt they are meant for her, and she practically devours the light pastry with a spicy meat filling. Someone in this house already knows she is not partial to sweets, not even in the morning. The tea is also perfect, plenty of cream and no sugar.

Before she has finished the tea, Nick comes in with her coat.

'Good morning, Miss de Bourgh. I can see you slept well, and you've finished your pastry. The cook suggested you might like a light treat before exercising. He really lives for food, which is probably not surprising.'

He does not sit down but waits for her to finish her tea standing attentively, he's in livery, with a matching overcoat. Anne wonders whether he is carrying a cudgel for her protection. Surely not, they're not going to any questionable neighbourhoods, are they?'

She does not tarry but she does drink all the tea, she's thirsty, and the cream will help her gain weight quickly. As soon as she gets up Nick holds out her coat, and she lets him help her put it on. It's no more than one expects from a servant.

'I've notified the butler of our absence, Miss de Bourgh, in case you are missed. Shall we go?'

Of course he holds both doors for her, it is a lovely winter day, not frosty but dry, and the air is still relatively clear of smoke. He clearly knows where they are going, and since Anne has only seen this neighbourhood from a carriage window, she is happy to follow him.

'I thought you might like to see a few trees and breathe some fresh air, Miss, so I've taken the liberty of planning an hour's walk to a beautiful park that is rather close-by. I hope you don't mind, Miss.'

They are walking side by side, and Anne is very happy to be walking again, it feels so invigorating to be active, and the air is so clean here, almost as if she's back in the countryside.

'Of course I don't mind, Nick. I'd get lost in a minute if I tried to lead the way. I'm going to use my energy to enjoy the walk and look at the people and the houses. Do you know why the air is so much cleaner here than elsewhere in town?'

'I guess it's because there was quite a lot of wind last night, Miss. It usually stinks as bad as the rest of London. The park doesn't, though. Does it trouble you, the smell of smoke?'

'I'm not used to it, I've lived in the country all my life. But frankly, I didn't get out much, except for little rides in the neighbourhood. But they didn't help to improve my health. My problem was not with my breathing, so smoke doesn't bother me more than you or anyone else. It's part of life in a big city I guess.'

He merely nods, he's too polite to ask what did ail her. But she is going to tell him, she actually wants to, see what a total stranger thinks. Should she have stood up for herself? That question has plagued her all evening, she's twenty-five and she has an independent fortune. She could have left home any time she liked.

'I promised to tell you about my visit to the doctor yesterday, and I want to. I heard some things that shocked me, and talking about them will hopefully help me to come to terms with what happened.'

'You can tell me anything, Miss. I like spreading news, but I can keep my mouth shut if needed.'

She tells him about her visit to the doctor and of her life at Rosings. He is a good listener, he doesn't say much himself, he nods and keeps his attention on her, though they are still walking at a goodly pace.

When she gets to the last part, where the doctor answered her question, why her mother never seemed to suffer from the bloodlettings, and Anne relates his reply, Nick reacts as vehemently as the doctor did, with a heartfelt curse. Anne dares ask him why, she knows she has missed something, Elizabeth was put out as much as the doctor, and she clearly told Darcy. There must be something else, something much worse.

Nick falls silent instantly, he is clearly thinking hard and fast.

'I don't know you very well, Miss de Bourgh, so I have no idea how you will take it if I tell you what made your doctor and relatives angry. They chose not to tell you. This concerns your mother, whom you love. I'm a mere servant, I'm in your power, I don't want to be the proverbial bringer of bad news. Can't you ask Mrs Darcy?'

This must be very bad, and Anne needs to know.

'So it's something my mother did. And it's really bad, worse than letting your doctor half-kill your daughter.'

'All right, Miss de Bourgh. I cannot deny your distressed face anything, you have been through hell for ten years, you deserve to be treated fairly. Against better judgement, I will tell you, though it will be very embarrassing as well as dangerous to me for it will probably make you very angry. But you have to know, and your relatives may find it even harder to tell you this. It's a connection you couldn't have made, since you have no experience with what goes on between a man and a woman. I recommend myself to your charity.'

And with quite some effort he manages to tell Anne the horrific truth.

'While your life was trickling away into a bleeding bowl, your mother had carnal relations with the doctor. Once a week, like clockwork.'

It's true, Anne knows that instantly. Maman, with that gross man. Who bled out Anne's life, not for her health, but to satisfy his own lust. Walking on doggedly though she's gasping for breath, Anne cannot feel anger, or hurt, it's even worse than she thought, no wonder Elizabeth didn't dare tell her. How could she have? They hardly know each other. Her voice sounds dry as she forces herself to speak to her anxious attendant.

'Thank you Nick, for being honest with me. I don't think Mrs Darcy could ever have told me such a terrible thing. But I'm glad I know, I would have given my mother the benefit of the doubt, the lame excuse of being ignorant. Not now. Not anymore. I am an orphan.'

Dry-eyed and numb she looks up at the servant walking next to her. Strangely enough she is very aware of the beautiful scenery around them, they are in a lovely park, a wild park, not the cultured perfection of Rosing's Park, but a true wilderness, in the largest city in England. But Nick has no eye for the beauty around him, he's used to it, of course. He is in agony over what he feels he has done to her, when in fact it was her mother who did it. The doctor, too, but he is no relative, her mother should have protected her daughter, not sacrificed her for a chance to fornicate.

'Oh Miss, what have I done? You look like you've seen your own death! I wish I could hold you for a moment, to prove to you you are worthy of being held, of being loved. I was angry at what they did to you, Miss, but I didn't fully realise that you actually lived through all those lost years, all ten of them, day in day out. You should have been told among loved ones, who are permitted to comfort you as you have the right to be comforted.'

Frankly, Anne doesn't care. She wants to be comforted, right here and right now.

'Do it, Nick, hold me. If you dare, that is, I do not want to make trouble for you. I'd rather it was you, I couldn't stand the looks and the compassion of my relatives. This time, they're too close.'

He dares. As his strong arms close around her, she lets her head rest on his liveried chest, avoiding the brass buttons poking her cheek. He holds her firmly and even strokes her hair gently, this is good, no need to talk, just a bit of comfort for her shattered feelings. For however much Anne disliked her mother's dominant nature, and her overbearing ways, she was her mother and she did love her. But that feeling is fading rapidly.

The calm presence seemingly all around her does take some of the immediate sting out of the situation, and she starts to become aware of the man holding her. He may be a servant, but he is a man like all others, and a good deal more human than some. His breath is warm in her hair, and she can feel his chest move up and down with his breathing. Inside her, some long-neglected part of her stirs to life, though not without the sarcastic thought that her mother certainly didn't neglect that part of herself.

Anne resolutely wipes out the thought, and relishes the feeling of excitement Nick's nearness causes her. She looks up at him again, his face is calm but concerned, and rather soft.

'You're such a kind man, Nick. Will you kiss me? After all these years, I want to feel like a woman.'

He looks back at her with a sudden fire in his eyes, but his reply is as frank as he has shown himself to be.

'I'd love to kiss you, Miss, but I don't want you to get hurt even worse. Before I kiss you, I have to warn you that I've kissed a lot of women, ladies, actually. And more than just kiss them. I'm a kind man, but I'm kind to everyone, somehow women like me a lot and I've made love to many.'

'So you don't want a girl of your own, to settle with?'

He still sounds very respectful, but he has taken her into a little path between the trees, arm across her shoulder.

'No Miss. I love my job, but it takes a lot of time and dedication. I cannot see myself struggling to keep a wife and a family, have those I love live on the edge of poverty and see me only in my rare spare time, in a state of fatigue. And then go to work and see others live in opulence and indolence. I'd rather enjoy what my professional life has to offer me.

I find you very attractive, Miss, and your plight has touched me deeply. But before I can kiss you I need you to understand that though I want to give you the love you crave, I cannot be claimed. I cannot guarantee there will not be others, the opposite actually.'

Frankly, that only makes him more attractive. The feeling Anne has now, the heat, the thrill, she can so easily imagine experiencing that with other men as well. She doesn't want to be claimed either, this suits her excellently!

His voice is husky as he proves he has read her expression perfectly once again.

'Your strength surprises me, Miss, and after hearing such a terrible thing. But I can see you're different from most ladies. They generally want to bind a man to them, want him to promise to be faithful to them forever. Unless I am greatly mistaken you, Miss, see a whole new world opening before your mind's eye, and it bears a close resemblance to mine.'

By now, they have arrived in a very quiet glade in the middle of a thick patch of brush. Did he take her on this particular walk on purpose? Did he know she'd want to kiss him? Did he make her want to kiss him?

He laughs heartily, he knows women.

'I know places like this one in every part of town, as I said, I do this a lot. I even have a cosy little spot in the Blackwood mansion. None of the family know, but I may give you a tour some day. If you want to.'

Well, for now Anne only wants to know one thing.

'Do you, you know, make love to Angelina and Sophie, too?'

His abhorrence seems genuine.

'No, Miss! They're children! I could never do that with them, they are my responsibility! And the mistress is out of bounds, too. But her friends all like me very much. It's the livery, you see.'

Well, the livery is very becoming, but Anne is certain that's not it. She's never felt attracted to Darcy's valet, though he is much more handsome than Nick, and generally dressed in a livery that is better designed and cut to perfection. Almost as if it's tailored to him, actually.

No, Nick's attraction is similar to Mr Manners', it's a kind of sympathy with mankind, they are friendly to everyone regardless of stature, everyone's concern is theirs, they want to see people happy.

She lets him take her in his arms again, feeling no need to be comforted this time. And then he bends his face down to hers, he smells good, masculine but not overpoweringly so, and his lips touch hers. Anne experiences a physical shock, and a strange feeling of excitement almost overcomes her physical strength. Her knees buckle, but he is strong and she is slight. He looks at her to see whether she is still enjoying it, and she manages to whisper, 'I want this very much.'

Then he seems overcome by some form of eagerness himself, and he crushes her against his body and intensifies the kiss manifold. At first she is a bit overcome by the intimacy of it, but he tastes as good as he smells, and the softness and closeness of it are so good she gives herself up to him with all her heart.

It seems to last forever, that fabulous kiss, but even the best things in life have to come to an end. Panting a little with heat and lack of breath, Anne looks up at him. He is not unaffected, it's not as if doing this often has made him take exchanging intimacies in stride. Still in a tight embrace, she wants him to do it again, and this time she knows what to expect and is not overcome. This time she gives as good as she gets, a hand in his neck to keep him close, the other firmly around his waist, and he seems pleased by her brashness.

'Again your strength belies your appearance, my dear lady. Small wonder your new doctor praised your constitution.'

They kiss one more time, then turn back towards the path through the park. Nick is instantly back to her retainer, a proper distance between the two of them, matching his stride to hers. His face doesn't show pleasure or triumph, he is his usual self. He must do this very often, he is obviously very good at it.

But an hour's walk turns out a bit too long for Anne, when they leave the park and return to the nice part of the city where the Blackwoods live she is on her last legs with fatigue. She does not want to slow down, she wants to be strong, as strong as she used to be, running through the woods with her cousins, climbing trees and rocks they couldn't get a good hold on.

'Give it time, Miss de Bourgh, a few weeks, a month at most. Will you please take my arm? We need you in a good shape today, you may expect a visitor, Mr Manners sent word this morning to announce he would call on you this afternoon.'

And without the slightest sign of envy he adds cheekily, 'He rarely honours ladies with afternoon visits, though most ladies would love to receive him. I cannot think of a more desirable bachelor, not since your cousin got married.

Who, by the way, was rather civil to me when I presumed to give him your message last night. He did keep a very close eye on me all through the concert. I tried to keep a low profile, but I really had to keep Miss Sophie and Miss Angelina from smothering Mr Fielding with kisses. The world was watching, you know.'

'You really care about them, don't you?'

'Yes, Miss, I do. I was raised in a large family, with three younger sisters and two brothers. My parents were always busy providing, and my younger brother and I took care of our sisters and our littlest brother. I have no desire to sire children myself, but I cannot help feeling responsible for young people. Miss Angelina and Miss Sophie are polite girls, but they are used to getting their way. I do what I can to curb their enthusiasm, but if I displease them I will be replaced. They love me and allow me to keep them out of trouble, but I walk a narrow line. I'm very afraid to fail them, have one of them get hurt or shamed, but they will not stand for enjoying the usual amusements of girls in their situation in life. I'm afraid I inadvertently contributed to their constant drive for more exotic pleasures, by indulging them and merely keeping them safe.'

Hearing about someone else's cares makes it easier to bear her own, and frankly, it seems hers are over whilst Nick's may just be starting.

'When all is said and done, Nick, you know they are not your responsibility, do you? Their parents should really keep a closer eye on them.'

'But they trust me to notify them when their daughters do things they shouldn't. Yet if I do, those girls will have me fired, and if their parents find out what I have already allowed them to do, I'm certain I will not get any references. So I keep walking the line, trying to dissuade them from the most outrageous enterprises, checking them and their friends with the help of the other staff. Their infatuation with Mr Fielding has given me some respite, and I am not above begging you to not agree to their more absurd schemes.'

'No need to beg, Nick, I like them, too, and I do not want to see them shamed. Their exploits are not as unnoticed as they think, you know. I'd almost say they need a husband.'

Poor Nick, he seems really upset hearing they have been seen. He is in a difficult position, Anne understands that perfectly. The taste of his kiss lingers in her mouth, and she can still feel the moist softness of his tongue, the solid mass of his chest against her slight form. Well, despite Nick's suggestive comments, Anne thinks she knows why Mr Manners is coming to visit her. Darcy must have seen something he disliked when he was keeping an eye on Nick and his girls yesterday evening. Anne knows how protective Darcy can be of those he loves, which means he loves her, and though not as she once hoped, it's very encouraging that he does. If she has lost a mother, at least she has gained the love of both her cousins and her uncle.

Since she is holding Nick's arm to support her, it's not very strange to put her free hand on his arm as well, in a reassuring gesture. She can even use the extra support, since she is very tired indeed. A small squeeze has him looking at her, and she decides to tell him the truth.

'Mr Manners is not coming to woo me, Nick. He introduced me to Sophie and Angelina because there had been rumours that he wanted me to look into.'

'He sent you as a spy? Mr Manners? Oh my god, I'm done for. If he finds out where we've been I'll never find another job.'

'He will not hold you responsible, Nick. I'm his source of information, and the girls have told me they think up these mad plans themselves, and trust to you to make them possible. I will not let you be blamed. Do you want to talk to him yourself? He may have an idea of how to stop this, how to turn things around.'

'What does Mr Manners care about a lowly manservant? People say he is on intimate footing with the King!'

Servants really gossip too much.

'I'm reasonably sure that is not true, Nick, and Mr Manners is a very friendly man, who heard a rumour and decided to investigate first, not cry wolf. Though some might rightfully say this is none of his business.'

By now, Anne starts to recognise the neighbourhood, they are nearly returned to the house.

'Don't upset yourself about Mr Manners and rumours, Nick. I'm pretty sure we'll find a solution that will make your life easier and still keep those girls amused. And thank you for the kisses, they were wonderful.'

'I will do anything you want, Miss de Bourgh, if only you can keep me from becoming the scapegoat when this all gets out.'

Another squeeze, they are almost at the door by now, but Anne really needs the support of a strong arm, so she just leaves her hand where it is.

'Do try to stop worrying so much, Nick. Mr Manners is the most subtle man I know, and I don't even know him that well. Sophie and Angelina are just girls, he'll outthink them with no-one the wiser.'

He is so distraught he doesn't even hear her say something really absurd, though Anne is truly convinced that Mr Manners is even more complicated than she realises. If Anne can convince him that Nick is a victim of his dependency on the Blackwood establishment, Mr Manners will help the poor man.

Anne does not have to exaggerate her fatigue to give herself an excuse to cling to a manservant, she is totally exhausted, and the butler does not spare the two of them together a second glance. He lets Nick take her coat, but finally seeing the state Anne is in he offers to take it from his colleague.

'You support Miss de Bourgh into the breakfast-parlour, Fowler, or better yet, help her to her room to take a breather before the master sees her, you should know better than to let a young lady walk herself to exhaustion.'

What? Is that how things work in this household? No wonder poor Nick is deadly afraid the girls' escapades will come out. She will straighten that out right away, sounding at her haughtiest.

'The young lady would prefer not to be treated like a child, Wellesley,' she says, 'I asked Fowler to accompany me on a walk my doctor proscribed me, and he was kind enough to help me return when I misjudged my strength.'

And, knowing the butler usually is the highest ranking member of a town staff, not wanting him to vent his disgruntlement on Nick, she refrains from being much kinder to the latter, rather addressing him as formally.

'But Wellesley is right, Fowler, I'd better not stumble into the presence of your master and mistress looking grey with fatigue. They may see things differently than myself, and I'm merely visiting. Will you take me to my room? I need to change anyway, and let Dora do my hair.'

'I'm sorry, Miss de Bourgh,' the butler says, 'I overstepped myself. Please forgive me, for a moment there you looked in a really bad way.'

'Please don't mention it, Wellesley. I may be a bit overinclined to feel patronised. If you forgive me, I'll forgive you. Agreed?'

'Yes, Miss. Thank you, Miss.'

The butler bows and leaves with her coat, and Nick lets out an audible sigh of relief.

'You're not too bad a hand yourself at subtleties, Miss. I really thought I was in for it, but now he'll most likely let me get away unscathed. Wellesley does not like my influence with the girls, Miss, nor my popularity with other highborn ladies. He's waiting for me to slip.

Do you want me to carry you upstairs, Miss? I can do that easily, you know, I'm very strong.'

Anne doesn't doubt he is, but she likes to keep whatever dignity she has left after missing her mother's sin and misjudging her walk so badly. Better shorten it for tomorrow, she's not up to an hour yet, not at the pace she wants to keep.

'I've had a few moments to catch my breath, Nick, I'll be fine with your arm for support. I'm sorry I almost got you in trouble. Tell me if he pesters you with it, I'll talk to Mr Blackwood to exonerate you.'

Mr Blackwood likes Anne, as does Mrs Blackwood, when she notices any of the girls. Anne suspects the lady of the house of having a slight problem with spirits, she's often very distracted and drinks wine surreptitiously, from an early hour. Sophie and Angelina know, but they do not mind very much, since their mother's negligence affords them a lot of freedom.

'Will you be all right, Miss?'

Nick has helped Anne right into her own bedroom, where she sits down in an easy chair with obvious relief.

'Yes, Nick, I'll be fine. I've been tired like this more often than not, and I'm very glad I have to walk for an hour nowadays to reach this state of exhaustion. A month ago I got up like this and went to bed like this, and while the servants probably wouldn't have let me burn in my bed, none offered to assist either. Except my own lady, but she treated me like a child in return.

Will you send Dora up, please? And before you go please tell me, do you think she reports to my mother? I guess you see her all the time, she probably likes you. I need to know, for if she does I need to send her back to Kent.'

'I haven't talked to Dora much, Miss, she's really shy. I do think she is very loyal to you, not to your mother. I will find out for you, Miss, get her to talk to me. Will we go out again tomorrow?'

'Yes, please, Nick! I need to exercise, maybe less than an hour, but I really need it. And I liked having you along, and not just for, well you know what. I like to talk, too, I want to hear more about your youth, and where your siblings ended up.'

He bows deeply, and retreats from her room, turning towards her one last time.

'I'll send Dora, and have Wellesley plan a walk with you into my work schedule for tomorrow morning.'

Another bow, and he is gone.

She kissed a man without being married to him. And still she is not dying of shame, on the contrary, she wants more, and soon. Examining her feelings, she has to conclude that though she likes Nick more than she ever thought she could like a servant, she is not infatuated with him. His easy assurance that he sleeps with a lot of different women, preferable noble ones, and has no wish to marry and have children, does not hurt her. It doesn't even shock her.

Instead, she tries to remember that moment in the little patch of brush, and finds the memory very vivid indeed.

A knock on the door pulls her out of her thoughts, and she gives Dora permission to enter. Fifteen minutes later she is dressed for company, and her hair is done up beautifully instead of practically. Anne is overjoyed to find her body recuperated from the morning's fatigue, she can get up easily without feeling dizzy, and she almost skips down the staircase to join the family at the breakfast table.


	83. Chapter 83

Chapter 93

She kissed a man without being married to him. And still she is not dying of shame, on the contrary, she wants more, and soon. Examining her feelings, she has to conclude that though she likes Nick more than she ever thought she could like a servant, she is not infatuated with him. His easy assurance that he sleeps with a lot of different women, preferable noble ones, and has no wish to marry and have children, does not hurt her. It doesn't even shock her.

Instead, she tries to remember that moment in the little patch of brush, and finds the memory very vivid indeed.

A knock on the door pulls her out of her thoughts, and she gives Dora permission to enter. Fifteen minutes later she is dressed for company, and her hair is done up beautifully instead of practically. Anne is overjoyed to find her body recuperated from the morning's fatigue, she can get up easily without feeling dizzy, and she almost skips down the staircase to join the family at the breakfast table.

Mr Manners' announced visit is soon the subject of the conversation, and Anne discovers every single member of the family thinks he is coming to pay court to Miss Anne de Bourgh. And yet Anne cannot remember his giving her undue attention, especially not in public. He has treated her with respect and friendship, but Mr Manners treats everyone that way.

Finding herself on the other side of the fence, now convinced he is not in love with her, she can only just suppress a fit of laughter. She'll tell him, of course, and then it's his own choice to treat her with less warmth in public, or just let the people talk. People will do that anyway, so why should she let them lead her life for her? But maybe Mr Manners values their opinion more than Anne does. After what happened yesterday, and this morning, Anne cannot bring herself to care much about anything other people do or think anymore. She is going to enjoy herself, and though she will try to escape public exposure, fear of it will not hold her back from living life.

Be that as it may, Anne does not try to stop the bantering about her influence on one of the most respected gentlemen in town, she'll still marry him if he were to ask. Maybe. And being part of a family is nice. Although things in this family are not as they should be with the daughters ruling the roost, the mother insensible with drink most of the time, and the father trying to make everything work besides handling his trading affairs, there is a distinct warmth here. The Blackwood family may not be as rich as Anne's family, they are respectable, and Mr Blackwood certainly does his best to maintain a solid front towards the outside world. Anne bets no-one outside this house knows of Mrs Blackwood's little problem, and Nick keeps the girls in line in the more public places.

As they flatter Anne with the critical eye she has managed to catch, she smiles and accepts the compliments for what they are worth. She teases Sophie and Angelina in their turn, and Mr Blackwood beams to have such a nice family breakfast. By now Anne is reasonably sure that with her influence on Mr Manners and Mr Blackwood she can save Nick from infamy, whatever happens. If it's the worst, he may have to find other employment, but at least he will be able to find it, for she will make sure he'll get his references, and good ones.

After breakfast the girls retreat to their bedroom and start planning their next outing, Anne's first, a simple dance with just the three of them, Maria, Leonora and their retainers. Anne wonders whether she will have her own guard, too, she has not seen the second Blackwood servant around the house, he must be from the stables, or maybe even a hired guard. Mr Manners will want to know where they get him, for he will be a possible leak to the press, not being close to any of the girls.

'Do you want to invite Mr Manners to our dance, Anne?' Sophie asks, innocently.

'Don't be ridiculous, Sophie! If he finds out he won't want to marry Anne, or he'll make a fuss and spoil things for all of us. Then papa won't need Nick anymore, and you'll never see him again in your whole life! Papa will probably force you to marry a gross old man. He'll do that anyway, but at least you will have had some fun before you have to breed heirs until you get old and fat.'

Wow. Maybe Angelina needs a little information as well. Mr Blackwood would never marry his girls off, if Anne is sure of anything that is it.

'Where did you get that idea, Angelina?' Anne asks kindly. 'Your father is a good man, he'll never force either one of you into a marriage I'm sure.'

Well, that certainly breaks something loose in the outspoken twin.

'We're not exactly pretty, Anne, and we've only ten thousand on our name, and that's mostly from papa's trading. Who would want to marry us besides an old man looking for a last chance to breed heirs?'

'Angelina, listen to yourself! Who told you you're not pretty enough to marry well?'

'I can see that myself, can't I? Every time I look in a mirror? Besides, Maria's maid told me, several times.'

Their friend's personal maid? Telling vulnerable young girls they are too ugly to marry well? Well, that is something to discuss with Mr Manners, for all their maids know quite a bit of what the girls have been up to, they can't just tell them to behave or find another job.

'Angelina, you're two fine looking girls, and people like you a lot. You know that. Your papa adores you, and he will never force you to marry. And do you really think only beautiful ladies get to marry well? Love is not at all about beauty, it's about what's inside you.'

Good, she's starting to think. And Sophie is probably simpering about Nick, does he know? Probably. But he's not going to take advantage of her.

'And you know gentlemen aren't always handsome, not even the young ones. You were teasing me with catching Mr Manners, he's not handsome, and I suppose he's not that young anymore. And still I got the impression you don't think he's a gross old man.'

Judging by their reactions, Mr Manners is a catch, he'll be pleased to know even girls this age like him and admire him.

'If you think Mr Manners likes me, how can you believe you're not going to find a nice man as well?'

Angelina cannot believe how stupid Anne is.

'But you're beautiful, Anne! And you're from the best family, and rich, and one day Rosings will be yours. And Mr Manners isn't an ugly old man, he may not be as handsome as your cousin, but at least he dresses well.'

Angelina thinks Anne is beautiful? Well, that's a surprise. Like Angelina, Anne has eyes and a mirror. And all she can see in a mirror is a ghost of a girl, skinny, flat-chested, colourless, and with some clear signs of ageing around her mouth and eyes. Anyone wanting to marry her must be after her fortune and her prospects. Except Mr Manners, he likes her for who she is, but he doesn't actually want to marry her. And he likes everyone for who they are. Like Nick. Maybe Mr Manners is like Nick, finding his love wherever it is offered. It would explain his being single at his age and with every eligible genteel girl hunting him. Or he is waiting for the right one, like Darcy was. But somehow, Anne finds it difficult to compare Mr Manners to her cousin, they're so different in the way they relate to people.

'Thank you for your compliments, Angelina. And please trust me, you will have plenty of opportunity to meet a nice man who will marry you for who you are, not just for money. And maybe you should talk to your father sometimes, you'll find he loves you very much and is not planning to marry you off to anybody.'

Angelina clearly doesn't believe her, but she's obviously not willing to discuss it.

'Now I know we cannot invite Mr Manners to this kind of outing, but tell me, where will we be going to dance, and what shall we wear, and who will accompany us besides Nick? Do I know him?'

The girls are very eager to think of their coming trip, and soon forget all about marrying old men. But Anne will not. She has a plan how to keep the girls from falling into disgrace, and at the same time get them to meet nice young men who will be eager to please reasonably pretty, good natured girls with ten thousand to their name. Mr Manners will be able to tell her whether it has any chance of succeeding.

The arrival of the thoroughbreds causes quite a stir in such a quiet household as theirs, and Darcy excuses himself to greet his stablemaster and check out his pride and joy, his best team. Well, if one has to be a rich landowner, better make the most of it, the world will be watching anyway. Bob is beaming, those slim, noble horses are his pride and joy as well, and it's very obvious he cannot wait to drive them across more than half the country.

Hugo looks fine, not as tired as one might think, of course he's a fine horseman, though Darcy guesses his pupil Bob outclasses him in driving skills, if in nothing else. Hugo is a superb rider, an excellent manager of goods and people, and he has a canny eye for good horses, as well as for hidden ailments and unsoundness. He is still the best choice for a stablemaster, of course he's very good at handing out orders, too.

'Mr Darcy, good morning! You will be pleased to use these beauties again, they're frisky and very eager for a long trip.'

They shake hands, and Darcy admires his beautiful team as Bob leads the horses to their usual stalls one by one.

'They look absolutely perfect, Hugo.'

'Thank you sir! It's the new stable-boy, Bruce. He does all the heavy and dirty work, so I've had plenty of time to teach Peter how to exercise these babies well. And he has had plenty of time to keep them in perfect shape.

There have been days when Bruce fell asleep at the dinner table, but he's built up a little stamina by now. Doesn't talk back at me anymore, either, so I'm thinking of promoting him to polishing harness instead of having him shovelling manure and lifting bales of hay and straw and bundles of firewood. Mrs Reynolds misses him and so do all her maids, since I no longer lend him to her to empty the chamber pots. He does however still haul the firewood and clear out the privies, so whenever he can keep from falling asleep as soon as he sits down before or just after dinner, he is quite popular among the house staff. Quite a looker, too, with all the fat melted off him. Well, once he is cleaned up, that is, and that is only on Sundays, after the horses have been fed and the stables have been cleaned.

Anyway, I can see you've let Bob grow fat and lazy now, sir.'

What has gotten into Hugo? He never used to be this jolly, nor as impertinent.

'He has gotten a bit tubby, hasn't he?' Darcy nevertheless replies in the same spirit, 'he has bullied those big strapping mares into shape, but lost his own in the process. Getting engaged does that to some men, they know they're set for life and stop making the effort.'

Hugo checks his master out from top to bottom, as if he's a horse he considers buying, then dares to remark airily, 'Hmpf, hasn't done you any damage sir, getting married.'

'Don't you have any newspapers in Derbyshire? Mrs Darcy is the celebrated icon of fashion these days, if I let myself go the pack of wolves howling at my heels will bring me down, then fight one another to take my place by her side.'

Good, at least Darcy's still master of the bantering, even if his servants feel free to treat him as one of their own. But secretly he is quite happy to be included, and matching wits has to be one of the most pleasant pastimes he knows. Which he found out because of his beloved, before that the only way he knew of making fun with words was at the expense of others and in fact rather mean.

Which of course reminds him of Miss Bingley, and for a really short moment he wonders how she is doing. Whether she has continued her acquaintance with Grenfell. But only very shortly, for besides clever remarks, Hugo also brings news from Pemberley, and since Darcy now seems to be included in some masculine peer group, he learns a lot more than he has through Mrs Reynold's correspondence.

Apparently Peter's missus is indeed back to work, and she is presently spending a lot of time on a hunter for Elizabeth! Hugo has found one he thinks is a real prize, discarded by his former owner because he didn't grow to the size that burly man expected.

'His training was never completed, but Mrs Norman has been working with him for a month now and he is just sweet. Fast, but not truly spirited. He's a red bay, a very showy horse.'

That is such good news, so exciting!

'Better not tell Mrs Darcy, Hugo, she'll only worry about it. It'll be a nice surprise when we arrive in March.'

Hugo nods and continues with the news.

'And Mrs Reynolds has had the doctor over a dozen times this winter, sir. I bet she didn't tell you, but I thought you should know. It was the influenza, and then she went back to work too soon and caught something on top of that. The doctor told your steward that she really needs to take it slow until she stops coughing but she will not let up. We're all worried she will work herself into an early grave.'

'I was planning to spend at least a night at Pemberley anyway. I'll give some orders that she cannot disobey. Thank you for letting me know, Hugo, Mrs Reynolds is very important to all of us. Maybe I'll send her off to her family for a few weeks, or even months.'

'She'll probably find something to do out there, sir. Better let us keep an eye on her, if you order her not to work she will not do it, not in your house. But elsewhere...'

'True, we'll keep her then.'

'And that large willow on the opposite bank of the stream came down in a snow-storm at the end of December. It tore down half the bridge with it, and it was too cold for repairs all week. But now it's back to its usual sturdiness. The bridge, the tree was a loss.'

'And what about Bruce, Hugo, was he really so much trouble?'

'No, sir, I was merely joking. Driving through town with four nearly priceless horses was very stressful. The relief of arriving safely made me giddy, I'm sorry for my impertinence, I'm glad you didn't seem to mind very much.

Bruce is in fact a reformed character, he has been very quiet and humble the entire time. I did give him the dirtiest and heaviest tasks available for three weeks, not limiting myself to the stables. Clearing privies does wonders to bring a message home to a thick young lad. And he did lose a lot of weight. But I allowed him to wash every evening, not just on Sundays. And I may have had Peter give him some riding lessons, you know riding a horse for the first few times is a punishment all in itself. Especially if you have to get up the next morning, in freezing temperatures, to do hard, dirty labour all day. I wrote a letter to his mother for him and he didn't complain. Told her that the house looked pretty in the snow. Which was true.'

'Well, I'm glad you've told me about Mrs Reynolds or I would have sent her more instructions. And I'm glad you all arrived safely, I can't wait to leave for Newcastle Thursday morning. Mrs Annesley has instructions to let you set your own times, you're not in town that often so make the most of it. Miss Darcy rarely uses the carriage, but I believe Bob has found a perfect place to exercise the mares. Of course you may ride them if you prefer, but that'll take a lot longer. I'm sorry to saddle you with the riding-horses as well, but it's just for these three weeks.'

Hugo will be staying in town for the duration of their absence, and while that means he has to muck stables and exercise the slow team and the riding horses as if he is a lowly stable-hand instead of the stablemaster, it also means he has the opportunity to enjoy life in town during his ample spare time. He'll probably go to that shop with hunting gear, possibly with a list from Darcy's huntsman with things to buy. It's an expensive shop, but the quality is unrivalled, and both men make good wages which they will find hard to spend in Derbyshire. They've probably saved up all year to choose some luxury items from town.

When he gets back to the drawing-room, it's terribly empty. Georgie and Fielding are upstairs in Fielding's apartment, practising most likely. Fielding has that haunted look of an engaged man being hunted by his fiancée. Women just don't understand that those negligent caresses drive a man out of his mind.

Which more or less proves they've stuck to those innocent caresses, a few kisses, a bit of stroking. Too bad Elizabeth is visiting her sister, or they could engage in a few of those intimacies, too. Maybe not in the haystack, with Bob and Hugo chatting away in the stables, but their bedroom functions pretty well. Maybe he should have gone with his beloved and asked Bingley about his sister. They used to be so close, and now he doesn't ever think of Miss Bingley anymore.

Of course Mr Manners does not ask to see Anne in private immediately, first he entertains the entire family where they are gathered for tea. Surprisingly, Mr and Mrs Blackwood do not seem to know Mr Manners very well, Anne thought they were friends, but it is clear that her hosts are trying to make a good impression on their visitor. A good first impression. And they succeed beyond expectation, Mrs Blackwood seems almost sober, and proves to have a good conversation and a broad knowledge of literature, music and even politics. She could do so much for her daughters, if only she'd take the trouble!

Mr Blackwood shows his deference for his visitor, Anne knows Mr Manners is much wealthier and of a more traditional family, but so is Anne. Mr Blackwood treats her with a certain distinction, but not as he does Mr Manners. Who is not very much impressed anyway. But Anne is happy to find Mr Manners not paying her undue attention, he does not single her out from the other girls, and spends as much time on them as on her. Good.

Then after half an hour he merely asks to see Miss de Bourgh in private, to discuss some family matters, and their hosts show no hesitation at all to let them retreat to the parlour, now a favourite spot for Anne, for its comfortable furniture, its quiet, and the lovely view over the front yard.

As soon as they have settled, Anne asks with more than a little irony, 'Family matters, Mr Manners?'

He smiles ingratiatingly.

'Well, I did not say which family, did I? And besides, your cousin did send me over in an outrage, after having been addressed by a servant of this house yesterday evening at the concert. Were you very unwell to stay in?'

'That is exactly what I had asked Nick to tell the first person of your party to approach his clique of girls. It turned out to be Darcy. Didn't he tell you I was fine?'

'He didn't. Actually, he summoned me to justify my actions. He was rather impressive. Though he is only your cousin, I admit there was some reason to worry, Miss de Bourgh. I forgot to tell you after your visit to doctor Parker, but while the Blackwood girls were at Darcy's place, swooning over Mr Fielding, that servant you mentioned, Nick, talked about the Miss Blackwood's with one of Darcy's servants. He seemed to be rather more intimate with them than is strictly decent, and he told of outings that were shocking to say in the least. Darcy would have ordered me to get you out, but Elizabeth said you were a grown woman and well able to make your own decisions. Which is why I have come: to warn you that this servant seems to have some sort of hold on the girls, and to offer you the chance to come home with me.

Of course I'd like to know what you found out, too.'

Anne is very glad that Elizabeth interfered, she would not like to argue with Darcy about what he can and cannot order her to do. She is dependent on his goodwill for a home, after all. And she knows Nick now, and feels even more inclined to come to his defence.

'I have heard the exact same things from both the girls, and their servant. He feels trapped between their wishes and his own sense of decorum: he cannot stop them from doing those outrageous things, or he would be replaced with a more tractable servant. But he is very afraid of their being found out and becoming the scapegoat, losing his position and more. I feel for him, Mr Manners. He really does care about those girls, like a brother looks out for his sisters.

Between you and me, the mother seems to be drunk most of the time, and the father is busy conducting business, and trying to keep the world from noticing that his wife is intoxicated from noon onwards. Those girls have no-one to mind them but Nick, and he looks upon them as younger siblings.

Do you see a solution for this situation? I'm not afraid to stay here and help. The parents should know, but they'll blame Nick, when he's the only thing standing between them and infamy. They want to go to a madhouse, Mr Manners! And they went to see a hanging, on the docks!'

Mr Manners shakes his head, and offers, 'I trust you, Miss de Bourgh, you seem to have an excellent grasp of the situation. I didn't notice Mrs Blackwood being anything besides very educated, but she has not raised her girls to her own level. Something is amiss, and until you find out more, I think we must trust this servant. Mr Darcy's valet had a favourable impression of him.'

'I would like to stay a little longer, go on one of these outings, set to rights some of their misconceptions. They think they are so ugly the only way they'll get a husband is their father marrying them off against their will, to an old ugly fellow, to breed heirs. A maid told them that. No wonder they behave like heathens. They think you're my suitor, by the way, so it's good that you were so very business-like towards me today.

And I have a plan. What would you say if I ask my cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam to let us visit his army camp? It's safe, it's spectacular, and he is a bachelor looking for a nice girl with a small fortune. He may know other officers looking for a nice girl with a small fortune. These girls have been going to the wrong places to meet the kind of man they can attach: hangings and lower-class dancing halls?'

Mr Manners looks like a cat in the cream.

'Miss de Bourgh, I will no longer worry about your safety. You are a treasure. Can you interest your friends in an army camp? I'm very certain your cousin will agree. What I do worry about is your health. Are you well? I didn't hear all of your consultation with my doctor, but I heard enough. You must feel betrayed by your mother, you must want to rage at her, write to her, I don't know.'

Such a dear man, and he doesn't even know all of it, unless Elizabeth told him. No, that would be too embarrassing by far.

'Mr Manners, I no longer have a mother to write to. Darcy has offered me a place in his house, and I'm certain he will be pleased to help me manage my fortune. Fortunately that is mine altogether, and I plan to use it wisely, not hand everything to a husband merely attracted to me by my independence and my status as an heiress.'

The poor man looks like a stunned ox. Anne supposes she'd better enjoy seeing him this way, it probably doesn't happen too often.

'Let me explain, it's very embarrassing as well as horrible. I only understood today, because Nick explained to me. Imagine how that must have felt to him. You know my mother had me bled twice a week?'

A nod.

'She had herself bled once a week, and the second time each week she always left with the doctor while I was sitting there, my life's blood slowly draining from me. I thought he took her away for some treatment; Elizabeth, your doctor and Nick separately concluded they did it to fornicate. I know it's true, it cannot be anything but true. My mother nearly killed me to sin with a man of very common birth and little talent.'

And Mr Manners is stunned again, struck with horror, actually.

'Miss de Bourgh, you have my condolences. I'm so very sorry to hear this. You must have been devastated.'

'I was. And Nick was very afraid I would denounce him for telling me, though I urged him to do so. Will you promise me to not let them sacrifice him, whatever happens?'

'I think I need to do better, Miss de Bourgh, I think I need to promise him. After I have met him, talked to him, gotten to know him just a little. I need to look him in the eyes, I think I owe that to your family for getting you involved in this hornet's nest. Can we just summon him?'

'He will most likely faint, but yes, this household does not hold with formalities. He was very afraid of you.'

'Of me? But I'm such a kind person.'

'Apparently you have a formidable reputation. The family thinks you know the King in person.'

Mr Manners nods, thoughtfully. 'People just don't understand me, I'm afraid. Better ring for this fellow, then, or the family will think we're making out in their parlour.'

'I bet they're expecting me to come out wearing a ring. I couldn't tell them I'm merely your spy, of course.'

With a laugh, Anne rings the bell, expecting the butler to answer it. It will be a bit awkward to ask for Nick, but what does she have to do with an arrogant butler? They think they rule the whole household, not just the staff.

But surprisingly, Nick comes in, with coffee and a few treats.

'Orders from the cook, Miss. He says you should eat several small meals spread over the day, I guess he thinks he is a doctor.'

He studiously avoids looking at Mr Manners, his words are brazen but his voice sounds clenched with fear. Anne speaks soothingly.

'Thank you, Nick. And will you thank your cook for me as well? I really appreciate this care. Nick, this is Mr Manners. He wants to talk to you for a few moments.'

Oh my, is he afraid. He's so brave to have turned up at all, he could have asked a maid to serve them. Remembering their talk, and his kisses, his strong and warm embrace, Anne does not like to see him grovel. It's demeaning, and he doesn't deserve it. Mr Manners doesn't like it either.

'No man should kneel for another, my man. Won't you face me and tell me your name? I'm not all that bad, you know, most people rather like me.'

'Powerful people, sir. I fear you because I know I have done wrong, and Miss de Bourgh says you know. I am afraid of punishment. My name is Nick Fowler, sir.'

'Is taking your master's daughters out to concerts so very bad, Fowler? I've seen you guard them, keep them from disturbing the other guests, directing the other guards. It looked like work to me, Fowler, not pleasure. I've done bad things in my youth, young man, really bad things. This didn't look like those at all.'

'There were worse things, sir.' He names quite a few of them, and Mr Manners looks on impassively. He has heard of them, of course, both from Anne and from some servant in Darcy's household.

'Were the girls in any danger, Fowler?'

'I don't think so, sir, not physically, I managed to deter them from visiting dangerous places, and from sights that might damage their soul. But they risk exposure and shaming every time.'

'They have already been spotted, Fowler, there are rumours flying. I'm surprised their parents haven't been informed. I'm not here to woo Miss de Bourgh, however tempting the prospect. I am here to give Miss de Bourgh the chance to pull out before she sullies her reputation.'

Poor Nick hangs his head in resignation and addresses Anne in a muted voice.

'It would be for the best, Miss de Bourgh. You didn't know what you landed into. I was hoping you might talk some sense in my mistresses, but you didn't ask for any of this.'

Mr Manners now sounds severe.

'And did you, Fowler? Did you ask for this?'

Nick looks miserable, and guilty.

'I didn't, but I did enable my mistresses to do all these terrible things. I did not warn my master what was going on, I went along with them to keep my job. After the first few times I dreaded exposure and was no longer able to protest. But I shall have to make an effort to stop them, my fate is sealed but maybe I can still keep the girls from falling into disgrace.'

'You'd tell your master and take the blame?'

'No-one will believe me if I deny it. Better the girls be undamaged, they'll be kept inside the house of course, but at least they'll still have a chance of a good marriage.'

Mr Manners can hardly believe it.

'I think there may still be another option, Fowler. I do not think you are responsible for your mistresses' foolishness, and I don't think you should be the one to pay for it. As I said, I've been in my share of trouble, and I always managed to extract myself. I see several possibilities even now.

I prefer the most subtle one, of Miss de Bourgh and yourself steering the girls away from the less suitable locations. She has suggested an outing herself that I am very much in favour of. You see, Fowler, we need to get them away from the level of society that is above them, men of old names and large fortune have a very refined taste in women. They will only rarely fall for a woman who is decidedly beneath them.

And of course we have to keep your charges away from men who are beneath them. There is nothing to be gained in their lowering themselves, their fortune would be wasted. What we need to do is get those girls into contact with a class of young men exactly suited to their wishes, who in their turn will find the girls irresistible. Miss de Bourgh has provided the solution by suggesting officers: her cousin is a Colonel, and she can easily arrange an outing to view the camp. I think she can even arrange a dinner party and some dancing, with a nice group of well-bred second and third sons. Army men are exciting and dashing, and every girl loves a red coat.'

Good, Nick is coming back to life, he understands now that Mr Manners is not out for his head, but wants to help.

'And the other options? I don't know if I like the idea of Miss Angelina and Miss Sophie associating with soldiers. There is a war coming, you know.'

Mr Manners is not offended by Nick's sudden change of attitude, for he laughs and observes, 'Well, I can talk the fear of God into them. I'm certain they'll stop doing foolish things after that, but I have no idea what it would do to your position here.

And you can let me or Miss de Bourgh tell your master what is going on. You may escape dismissal, and if you don't, I will make sure you land on your feet. I know a lot of people, Fowler, and a good servant is always assured of a place in a household. For instance, I know for a fact that Mr Darcy will need a new valet in a few months. I'm going to travel the continent in fall, and since my own valet refuses to leave London for more than two weeks at a time, I have begged Darcy to let me take his man and he has agreed.'

Nick is stunned and addresses Anne.

'I think I met him when you took the girls to drool over Mr Fielding, Miss. Handsome man, very easy to talk to?'

Mr Manners replies.

'Why do you think I want to take him on a long trip? My own valet is a great bore, and in Germany and Italy it will be difficult to find good company who speak the King's English.'

But Anne is stunned, too. Mr Manners is going to leave England? Such a trip may take a year or more. And here she was thinking he liked her.

The prospect of another place seems very acceptable to Nick.

'I'd love to work in Mr Darcy's house, the atmosphere in the servants' quarters was very pleasant, very safe. I get your message, Mr Manners, there is more than just this house and this family. But still I'd rather stay here, I have some arrangements... Well, never mind that. It's out of my hands anyway.

I'll just wait and see where events lead, and do the best I can to keep my mistresses safe and happy. Will you excuse me? I have a few assigned tasks and if I'm not punctual I will be in grave trouble even before anyone can find out what Miss Sophie and Miss Angelina have been up to.'

Mr Manners nods to give him permission to leave, and Nick bows deeply.

'Thank you, sir, Miss. I'm much relieved.'

But in fact he doesn't look relieved, he still looks troubled, and it affects Anne more than she would have thought.

As Nick makes a hasty exit, Mr Manners pours coffee for both of them and hands Anne one of the pastries. It's another of those meaty ones, and Mr Manners seems surprised.

'I would have expected a sweet pastry at this time of the day,' he observes, though he doesn't seem put out.

'It's because I don't like sweets. And because they think I need feeding up. Isn't that endearing?'

'Very much so, Miss de Bourgh, but something is not right in this household. That man does not scare easily, I'm sure. I think he may have some cross to bear, not from his master, but from someone in the staff.'

'The butler is rather down on him, I noticed.'

'I like him, I like your plan, let's try it. I'm not going to suggest asking your cousin or uncle for permission beyond arranging the trip, you are a woman grown. You're in no danger, but he may be, he should not be afraid to be made scapegoat, people just don't give servants that kind of responsibility. It's a father's job to know where his daughters are. The fact that he is worries me, for he is a serious chap and a good servant.

I can see you like him, Miss de Bourgh, and still I am not going to caution you against him. I am going to do the exact opposite. Should things turn bad for him, send word and I will make sure he is safe. Now, do you want me to take a note to your cousin the Colonel? I'll wait as you write.'

Anne does as he asks, begging Fitzwilliam to allow her to visit his camp with a group of four or five young ladies of good families, maybe giving them a chance to get to know some officers. She asks him to drop by if he wants to meet the girls or their parents, or if he would like to discuss some details. Then she folds the piece of paper she has used and hands it to Mr Manners without envelope.

'I trust you without reservations, Mr Manners, you were planning to take it there yourself, weren't you?'

'I am, Miss de Bourgh. I have been looking for an excuse to visit your uncle, he is not in town that often.'

'Will you tell him what the doctor said? Except maybe that one little thing? They need to know, both my uncle and my cousin. I'm not going back to Rosings, and I will need some help to secure my fortune and my inheritance. Maybe my mother is increasing her bloodlettings to keep having an excuse for her entertainment. I'll go back to Rosings to receive the key from the housekeeper after her demise.'

'Do you want me to make an appointment with them? So you can talk things over, preferably at your uncle's house?'

'Yes, please, Mr Manners. I'd like Darcy present as well, for as soon as my fortune is secure I want him to help me invest it soundly.'

'I think he can do better than that, Miss de Bourgh. Mr Fielding and Miss Darcy are learning how to manage their own finances, and I have a feeling you would rather do that, too, instead of relying on a man to do it for you.'

Yes! That is what she wants. But now she needs to go back to the girls and accompany them on a drive through the park, or maybe they will have coffee in the centre of town. As a relative newcomer she can beg them to visit the common spots for young ladies to frequent, of course they are long bored with them, but Anne can pretend she desperately wants to see all of them, and allow her friends to be spotted by the gossips who keep tabs on who is going where. That should slow down the rumours somewhat.


	84. Chapter 84

Chapter 94

After lunch they do set out, Anne has eaten well and is ready for a nice tour of the city in Mr Blackwood's beautiful carriage, with just the twins as companions. They are in high spirits and chat like a couple of sparrows, but they are not mean and very entertaining. Pointing out all the sights, they are pleased to give their adored older friend all the information they have on the town where they lived their whole lives so far.

The girls have invited Nick into their carriage since he is their only retainer on this outing and they like him a lot. But he is a bit withdrawn, talking only when spoken to, and giving polite but short replies. He is worried, and Anne wishes they were alone so she could ask him why.

Her strength is holding out just fine, it's as if she can feel the healthy food making new blood inside her.

'I'm hungry girls, can I treat you to coffee somewhere around here?' she asks. It's been just an hour since she last ate, but somehow her appetite is increasing all the time.

Finally, Nick shows some animation, he smiles at her and offers, 'Why don't you show Miss de Bourgh the old Rookery? It's pretty close and they have a very picturesque coffee-shop inside. Their pies are said to be the best in town, though I bet they make a mean pastry, too.'

The girls protest as one.

'The old Rookery is boring, Nick! There is nothing exciting going on there, just old people and families, why would Anne want to see that?'

He is letting them get to him, it's as if he has given up. He doesn't even answer their question, but merely falls silent, his moment of liveliness gone. Before Anne can profess an inclination to see the place, if only once, Sophie seems to have caught on.

'Nick, you're supposed to argue with us! Tell us Miss de Bourgh wants pie, not excitement. We were going to give in magnificently! What is wrong with you, has Wellesley been after you again? Don't deny it, Nick, Felicity tells me he is making your life miserable when you're not with us. Why don't you let us talk to papa, Nick? He'll put an end to it.'

'I've told you, Miss Sophie, a butler is much more important than I am. Your father would merely tell him to treat me better and but that would make things worse for me. Please believe me, Miss Sophie.'

Incredible, how Mr Manners can assess a situation in less than half an hour. But he also promised to intervene. Anne has trouble keeping still, her heart aches for poor Nick. Sophie doesn't seem to have such scruples, she sits on his lap and kisses him squarely on his lips. He accepts the affection with equanimity, shows his admirer a little smile, but no encouragement at all.

'Better not let anyone see you do that, Miss Sophie. It can get both of us in a world of trouble.'

Anne can hear his unspoken comment: but mostly me.

Sophie does not like to hear that, it seems an ongoing discussion between the two of them, but she does go back to her own seat and offers, 'All right, let's show Anne the old Rookery then. I feel like eating pie, and it is a beautiful place.'

Nick does not show triumph, just relief. Another place where his young ladies will be seen in their supposed habitat.

But they do not accept his assertion that he is a servant and cannot join them for coffee. He doesn't even try to resist and walks towards the building with them. Anne is stunned with the beauty of this place, it's a patch of old forest with ancient, thick beeches around a grassy open space, a haunt for the green people shrunk to the size of a park. The trees are bare of leaves, but their black trunks are perfectly shaped and very beautiful. The Rookery itself is a very old wood-framed building, Anne guesses it may be a remnant from the Middle Ages. It's a kind of single large space, with a large rookery on top. The rookery is inhabited, Anne suspects there are very few vacancies at the moment, so many birds in one place.

'Don't they, well, you know, crap all over this place?'

Now a true smile breaks out on Nick's face, finally.

'They do. If you look closely, you can see that the seats outside are surrounded by large poles, over there, and over there, and opposite those two, can you see them?'

She does.

'In summer, or when the weather is good enough to sit outside, they pull up a large sheet of canvas between those, to keep the stuff off the furniture and off the customers. But today it's better to sit inside, there is a nasty wind blowing.'

He does not like going in with them, and he likes sitting down at a table even less.

'Don't be sour, Nick, Anne says she'll treat you to coffee. Don't you like pie?' Angelina really doesn't see anything wrong in a servant joining them at the table. All around them, families and old people, as the girls predicted, are sitting at tables with their servants hovering over them. Nick is very uncomfortable. Suddenly Anne makes a decision.

'Don't fuss, Nick, just sit down with us and let me buy you a slice of pie. You deserve it. We're not a family, nor old, and we can sit at a table with whomever we like, as long as we behave ourselves and pay our bill. Now come with me, you can help me choose. Do you know what you'll have, girls? I want to have a look at the interior, and at the wares before I decide.'

Who cares what those people think? Anne is in London to amuse herself, and by golly, she is going to do so. And eating pie with a kind man standing by and looking on is not her idea of enjoying herself.

'I couldn't eat a bite with someone hovering over me, Nick. And you cannot stay in the carriage, for who would keep an eye on us?'

The girls already know what they want, 'We come here often with our parents.'

Anne takes Nick along to put in their order at the counter, and she stares down an attendant who looks like she might object to a liveried servant actually eating pie in this establishment. She forces him to choose a slice, and orders one herself, since they don't have anything savoury. Instead of making haste towards their own table, she takes the time to walk around the large space and look at the lovely details, gold leaf ornamentation, painted murals, pewter and bronze vessels hanging from the side beams. When their order is ready and taken to their table they walk back without hurrying, Anne sitting down beside Nick with a little flutter at feeling his arm against hers.

'All right,' he admits, 'it is kind of cosy in here with the three of you. Thank you for the treat, Miss de Bourgh. I can't wait to find out whether rumours are right this once.'

They are. Anne doesn't like pie, she usually finds the sweetness cloying, making her a little nauseous. But this is wonderful, she can taste the fruit, with some kind of creamy filling, and the pastry is crumbly at first, but then it melts in her mouth. Nick's expression mirrors her own, stunned disbelief mixed with intense enjoyment, and the girls are triumphant.

'Isn't this the best pie in the world? I bet you cannot get anything better even in Paris!'

While Anne dares to doubt that, it isn't very likely she'll ever be in the situation to test it, and this certainly is the best pie she ever had. The coffee is as good, and Anne feels on top of the world.

'You may be right that this place is filled with old people and families, Sophie, but I still like it very much,' she comments. 'I'm glad we came here.'

'How is the pie, Miss?' Nick asks, 'I know you don't like sweet things, generally.'

'Either this is indeed the best pie in the world, or my preferences are changing, for I love it. I cannot think of something I loved eating more, and my mother has a French chef who likes to impress her with his dainties. Still, I've always preferred plain food, though this pie isn't plain at all!'

'Will you come with us to the concert tonight, Anne?' Angelina asks.

'Indeed I will, and gladly so, I'm sorry I missed it last night.'

'You did need that night's sleep, Anne, you look so much better today. Do we need to go back, or do you want to take a little walk here?' asks Sophie.

'If it's as beautiful as this place, I'd like to explore further.'

The girls know, of course. 'There is a little lake behind those trees, there will be swans and ducks and other fowl. It's not even half an hour to walk around it.'

Anne takes a moment to consider her strength.

'I'd like to do that, if Nick agrees to help me if I falter. And girls, I think I will sleep in my own room again tonight. I love chatting, but I think I need to sleep well after a day like this.'

What she means is, she needs to contemplate what she learned about her mother, and constant chatting will distract her. She wants to be distracted now, but tonight she wants to think. And feel. For she did love her mother in a difficult, convoluted way.

'I'll be happy to offer you an arm to lean on, Miss de Bourgh, should you need it.' Nick seems pleased with the chance to escape the prying looks of the people here, though he is still really enjoying his pie, slowly, to make the most of it.

The walk is indeed short, and very pleasant, and Anne doesn't need any assistance. She can feel her body gaining strength, she loved the sweetness of the pie and the coffee has given her quite a surge of vivacity. Almost giddy with the headiness of actually having some energy, she relishes the woods on the one side, and the lake on the other, indeed covered in birds, many more than one would say a body of water this size can support. She remarks on this and Nick offers, 'I suspect the locals feed the birds, so they can harvest them for meat. Not too many at a time, and no shooting them, that would scare the rest off. Just a few nooses and maybe a stone flung from a slingshot. Meat is expensive in town, Miss.'

He is right, again. Such a bird can feed a family for two days, in a stew or a soup it may last even longer. Whereas she had to eat truffles though they made her gag. That reminds her of their walk tomorrow morning. Maybe he used to catch birds that way, trying to feed his siblings, she can ask him about that. Though he did say his parents worked all day, they must have brought some food home with them.

Back in the carriage she sighs and says, 'Thank you so much for a lovely day, Sophie and Angelina. You may find this boring, but I have never seen such a beautiful little building, nor tasted such pie. I never thought I'd be hungry again, growling stomach hungry,' she explains for Nick's sake, 'not haven't had a bite for three days hungry.'

'And I wish you may never experience that kind of hunger, Miss. After which I admit I haven't been hungry like that either. My parents worked hard and came home tired, but there was always plenty to eat, though it was simple fare, nothing like what you ladies are used to. The cook sometimes lets us taste a few things, they generally don't feed us rich things like that.'

What follows is a pleasant hour of conversation in the bedroom they often share, then dressing for dinner in her own bedroom. The concert is in an upper-class venue and Dora spends a lot of effort on Anne's apparel. Studying her own looks in the mirror, Anne has to admit to herself that she is indeed beautiful, though in a different way from her mother's renowned beauty at this age. There is a painting in their gallery that shows mother at her very best, tall, with abundant curves in just the right places, dramatically coloured with dark hair, pale skin and rosy cheeks. Fashion favoured that shape and look, with the lower waists and fuller skirts. In the sleek, high waisted fashion of today the young lady her mother used to be would look mostly fat and red-faced.

Anne herself, like her namesake, Darcy's mother, her own mother's favourite, is a much less imposing sight, slim to the point of skinny, pale hair, pale skin, pale eyes, little bloom. But Dora has added a touch of powder to her lips and cheeks, and her dress really sets off her figure, hiding her current lack of curves admirably. Remembering that outing, with the handsome valet choosing the hat and the gloves, and Mr Manners looking on with admiratio...No, it can't be, can it?

They're going to the continent together. Mr Manners knows exactly what Nick told Simon during one short visit. Simon was so easy to talk to. Did Mr Manners set Simon up to spy on the Blackwood staff, just as she was set to spy on the daughters themselves? Mr Manners is not faulting Anne for liking a servant...because he likes one himself? But two men, that can't be, can it? That look though, it was so filled with love and admiration. Too much love for a newly formed friendship to be honest.

Well, if Mr Manners can spy on people, so can Anne. She will find out the truth. And then, she will keep it to herself. But first she needs to know whether it is at all possible, two men in love with each other. It does explain a lot, why he is still unmarried. Why Simon is willing to leave Darcy, they used to be so close. No, she's not going to go there, Darcy was just looking for true love until he found it. With a woman.

'Dora, you're a treasure. Look at what you turned me into, a princess, a queen. Thank you so much!'

The girl is delighted, Anne needs to know whether she can be trusted, it's not fair to keep the girl in doubt as to where she will live and work.

'Thank you Miss! But it's not all my achievement, you know, you're so much better since you came to stay here. You were always tired and listless, some days you could hardly get up, especially after you were bled. I worried, Miss, I'm so glad you feel better now.'

There is something more, Anne can see it. But asking will only make Dora shy, so she merely waits for her to speak.

'Miss, it's Fowler. I think he likes you a bit too much, for he asked me things. About Rosings, about Lady Catherine, and about you. I didn't tell him much, but it was hard, he's really nice and I wanted to tell him everything. He didn't get angry when I didn't speak up, he seemed rather pleased. But not for long, for the butler came up behind him and cuffed him, hard, for no reason at all. And he did it where it doesn't show, you know, not his face but the back of his head.

The others just let it happen, of course Felicity is just a maid like me, but the cook is tall and strong, and he lsometimes cuffs his helpers but only when they've done something really bad. I feel sorry for Fowler, Miss, but I'm a bit afraid he'll do me harm if I talk. Not Fowler, the butler. He hasn't laid a finger on me, yet, but I think he likes to bully all the servants.'

So he has already done it. And found her little maid loyal. Now Anne has to repay that loyalty, quickly, before the carriage leaves.

'Dora, thank you for letting me know. I have an admission to make. I asked Fowler to talk to you and see whether you were loyal to me or to my mother. I guess I know now. I'm sorry I didn't trust you, Dora. I'm not ever going back to Rosings, the doctor here told me those bloodlettings nearly killed me and caused me to feel so bad all the time. That is why I'm getting better.

Now I know your family lives in Kent, and if you want to go back, I will make the arrangements. If you want to stay with me, I will pay you from now on. Will you tell me sometime this week? Take some time to think about it?'

'Will you live here, Miss? For I don't think I can stay here much longer, I'm always seeing things that make me feel bad, and I'm scared whenever Fowler's out with you. If he's there the butler picks on him, and I just feel safer when he is about. I think he lets Wellesley bully him, I think he could easily beat him in a fight. But Wellesley is the boss of the staff.'

'Mr Darcy offered me a place in his house, Dora. I have some business to finish here and then we'll move there.'

'The Darcy household! Oh, I'd love to stay there. Word is there was bullying in their staff, and Mr Darcy made an end to it, just like that. Laid off his butler and the first maid for making his valet's life a misery. This is awful gossip, Miss, but they say that maid told anyone who was interested to hear and many who weren't that Mr Darcy's valet fancies men. It's vile gossip of course, he's so handsome he can have any girl he likes, I've met him once or twice at Rosings and all the maids were mooning over him. Besides, that maid used to be first maid, and now she works as a washing woman. That's enough reason to make up vile gossip, I guess, or maybe she was let off because she spun tales, vicious tales.'

So that's why Mr Manners used a servant to gather news and draw Nick out. Servants know everything! Well, not everything, but almost. But that doesn't help poor Nick. Better talk to Mr Manners again, see what can be done for him.

'I would love you to stay, Dora, just tell me when you cannot stand living here anymore, then we'll move. I'm going to try to do something about it, but I'm only a visitor. Maybe I'll ask my cousin, he's had the same problem, apparently. Thank you, you're so sweet, and take care to be safe. Maybe you can stay with Felicity while we're out.'

The girls are knocking on her door, and Anne hurries away, back to the carriage, which is going to take them to yet another concert. Anne merely hopes to have a chance to talk to Darcy and Mr Manners, she is way out of her league here.

They are in very good time and are let into the hall because Anne is with them. She is glad to see Darcy nod briefly at Nick, acknowledging the man's service to his cousin. Mr Manners must have talked to Darcy already. The former gives her a fat wink, he must have met with success at her uncle's. He comes towards her and hands her an envelope, addressed to her in her uncle's handwriting.

'Everything is in there, Miss de Bourgh. Your cousin will pick you up, Darcy that is, but it has to be tomorrow, for he will be out of town from Thursday on. Are you all right? You look troubled.'

'I am, Mr Manners, both. Can I have a few moments of your time tonight? Preferably with Darcy present? You were more right this afternoon than you will be pleased to hear: there is a situation at the Blackwoods'with the butler bullying the servants. My maid is terrified, and she has witnessed him beating up on Fowler almost daily. The girls know, Sophie even confronted Fowler with it, said he had to tell her father, but he refused, said the butler outranked him and would make things worse for him if he complained. My maid told me Darcy has had a similar situation once, I need advice, this cannot go on, what if he does something to Dora? She can't even defend herself.'

Again the hand on her arm, well, let everyone think he is interested in Anne, she has heard enough to realise a man loving a man is not accepted. If she can prevent rumours about him, so much the better, it's impossible not to like Mr Manners.

'Calm down, Miss de Bourgh,' he says softly, 'I guarantee that we will find a way to resolve the situation. There are witnesses, as soon as Fowler shows some damage we'll have our man.'

'That's just it, he only hits him where it doesn't show!'

'It may not show to you, Miss de Bourgh, but a doctor can see bruises and lumps even covered up with a nice head of hair.'

Now Anne is hearing things because she expects to hear them. She must have shown her feelings again, for he sniggers and complains, 'Cannot a man express his envy of another man's superior head adornment, Miss de Bourgh? Here, look at my receding hairline.

But here I am joking at a serious matter, which is unkind. I assure you, Fowler will not suffer much longer whichever way. Of course we will set events in motion that will set him free. But each man has a limit to which he can be pushed and prodded, and I suspect his will soon be reached. Then he will prove he can protect himself as well as others, and without a cudgel as well as with. Let's just hope he doesn't seriously injure his assailant. But even if he does, my barrister will get him acquitted, and I will make sure he gets a suitable position. Now try to enjoy the concert, and we'll speak afterwards. Do sit next to him, put some heart in him, he's kept a seat for you by his side.'

Two men hinting she will soon make a match with the other, while neither of them really fancies her. The situation is enough to make a cat laugh. If the rest weren't so worrying. Well, there is nothing she can do now, so she sits down between Nick and Angelina, Sophie chatting with a girl on her other side. Her crush is not making her careless, yet, showing her preference in public. Or else she's just not that far gone in love, Anne does not regard Sophie as very likely to sit separated from a man she really adores. All for the better, she's way too young to be thinking of settling. Let her enjoy her freedom.

Nick obviously admires Anne in her fancy outfit. He never did earlier, though she has worn it before in his presence. Maybe he had a new conquest at the time. And then again, maybe Dora is right, maybe she looks a little better every day.

Somehow Mr Fielding's music really hits her this time, and she finds herself crying several times during the concert.

'It's knowing you'll live, Miss,' Nick whispers in her ear. His warm breath sends a shiver down her spine, and for a short moment she can smell his very personal scent drifting towards her. She relishes it shamelessly. Then she understands his cryptic comment. Yes, her emotions are complicated. Part of her remembers the loneliness of her old life, and the reason she felt like that, making her angry and sad. And part of her celebrates the certainty that she will live and grow healthy.

And she has to admit that yet another part of her has tasted physical love, and its promise for the future infuses her with deep emotions, for the music also carries that promise in itself. It's really amazing how Mr Fielding's music can stir up so much feeling, and she bets every person in the audience projects their own feelings on it, not the ones Mr Fielding experienced when he wrote it.

But Nick is not open to the music tonight, his face is even more drawn than his usual bland 'I am working' expression, the only thing proving he still has emotions was his comment just now. He must have seen her cry, and he could discern her feelings.

Anne lets her tears fall freely, she's not the only one crying, and she certainly has reasons to shed a few tears. But after the show she talks to Darcy and Mr Manners instead of Mr Fielding, and Nick minds the girls, not her.

'I hate it when people do that, Anne,' Darcy says. 'I can't think of any other action than presenting the case to Mr Blackwood. Why don't you use your maid's complaints as a start?'

'And didn't you say your friends know, too? Keep it general then, don't mention Fowler in particular, but tell him the maids are afraid. Though it would be best to have some proof of physical abuse.'

'We cannot very well wait until he gets beaten up again! And one cuff each day doesn't really show much on a body, I guess?' Anne has no idea how much damage any act of physical violence does.

'I spied on my own servants and caught them in the act. Then I confronted them with their behaviour, and their reaction determined whether and how I dismissed them. Two were callous and unrepentant, one even threatened to bring down her victim. I think she is a washing woman now. One showed real repentance, I didn't fire him but gave him to my stablemaster, who had him do the very worst jobs inside and outside the house for a few months. Three days' drive away from his mother and sisters. I'd do it again if needed, spy on my own people.'

'I don't think Mr Blackwood cares that much what is happening under his roof. But I'm going to think of something, and soon, or Dora may be assaulted. She hinted fearing as much. And she cannot defend herself against a grown man, she is tiny.'

'We'll think about it, and tell you tomorrow when we meet at uncle Spencer's, Anne. Now it seems someone wants to take you home, and I'm happy to see he is very embarrassed, not likely to start herding Miss de Bourgh any time soon.'

Indeed, Nick is waiting patiently for Anne to notice him, and when she does, he bows deeply and says, 'I'm taking the young ladies outside, Miss de Bourgh. Is it all right to wait for you there?'

'It's fine, Nick, we're meeting at my uncle's tomorrow anyway, I'll come with you straight away.'

She takes leave of everyone and turns to follow Nick, who says softly, 'I still cannot believe those are all your friends and relatives. Even Miss Sophie and Miss Angelina see them as some higher form of life.'

Anne cannot help making a disparaging noise.

'Well, you know better than most how very common the high and mighty are, since you told me yourself that my mother fornicates with her physician, once a week, like clockwork.

Now don't do that, Nick, you know I don't blame you. You didn't do anything wrong, you were just the messenger. Oh, you make me want to kiss you again.'

'I'm not some weakling, Miss, though it may seem that way. It's just that at this moment I am in some trouble protecting myself because I'm not free to act. Wellesley knows some of what we have been doing, if I run to the master he'll spill the beans. If I hit back, he does the same.'

'And if he lays a hand on my maid? She's terrified, you know.'

It's dark outside, but Anne can practically feel the anger radiating from Nick's whole being.

'Then he dies.'

'And you'll hang for it?'

'If need be, yes.'

'Well, I'd rather see a different solution, and pretty soon. You may be able to tolerate a lot of abuse, Dora is slight and very sensitive.'

Actually, Anne is much more worried about Nick, but he has made it clear just now that he sees it as pity and he doesn't want it. To protect a helpless girl, however, he may be willing to take a few chances with his master.

'You're killing me, Miss! You're so nice, but inside you're hard as iron. You're not going to let this go, are you?'

'If you want me to help you with Sophie and Angelina, I have to be sure my maid is safe. I cannot risk Dora being beaten or ravaged, she'd just die on me. And right after you've proven her loyalty, too. She told me you had shown way too much interest in me. She liked the idea of living in Mr Darcy's house very much.'

'All right, you win! What do you want me to do? I need your help, desperately. And I do want to feel safe again. I'd like to hit back but I'll lose it if I do. I don't want to hang, not really.'

'Next time he hits you in front of witnesses, can you get him to do it where it shows? And do you think the other staff will stand up for you before your master?'

'Yes, and yes. But he still knows things he can tell the master.'

'Don't you see that he is using that knowledge to make everyone's life a misery, not just yours? Dora hates to see you get picked upon, she feels guilty and afraid. You need to let go of your fear of exposure to free the others. If you get fired for it, Mr Manners will find you another position. But then the staff here will be free again.'

Nick hates to hear this, but he bows before the truth in what Anne says.

'You have convinced me. I may suffer myself, but I have no right to cause others harm with my secret. I don't want to live a lie anymore. Next time I get hit, I will tell the master and hope the others will come forward to help me, and themselves. Thank you, Miss.'

The girls have heard the end of this conversation, open-mouthed. Now Angelina, the smartest and most forward of the twins, comments.

'Wellesley cannot get you fired, Nick. We like you, we want you, papa will never fire you. What does that horrid man know about you? I don't understand. What have you done wrong?'

'I've taken you to places where decent ladies shouldn't go, Miss Angelina. If Mr Blackwood finds out he'll blame me and fire me.'

'He will? Why? We wanted it, didn't we? He should punish us, not you. You never wanted to go, we always had to fight with you to go out. Why didn't you tell us?'

'I'm a servant Miss Angelina, a servant does as he is told, or he loses his job. I was afraid you'd have me replaced if I refused to take you where you wanted.'

Sophie is crying, but Angelina still seems incredulous.

'There have been rumours that you are doing indecent things, Angelina,' Anne says heartlessly, they need to face this, too.

'I hope to lay those to rest, but now Nick needs to end the bullying among the staff. Your maid is terrified, my maid dares not go out of her room at night. Nick has to tell your father about it, but if he does, your butler will tell your father about your excursions. And then Nick will most likely be blamed. Which he fears, but has to do, not for himself but for the others. It will cost you, too, for you will certainly lose your freedom and almost certainly will lose Nick. But you will know he is no longer bullied, and he will be feeling less guilty.'

'Are you unhappy taking us to those places, Nick?' Sophie, the more timid, sweet twin asks.

'Yes, Miss, I am. I know you shouldn't be there, I know that if someone spots you, you will be shamed, and I will be blamed. Then when I get home, I am beaten by a bully who outranks me, and I cannot tell the master for he'll find out about you, and curb your freedom. I have been walking a tightrope for months now, and I'm worn out and very afraid. There, now you know.

If we can get Wellesley out of the house, I can solve the rest with Miss de Bourgh. If I have to go to your father, all three of us are in deep trouble.'

Anne is surprised to find the girls a lot more astute than she expected.

'What if we catch him at something?' Angelina asks, 'then papa will throw him out without listening to him. He always listens to us, and Felicity and Dora will prove we speak the truth.'

That may work. It's to their advantage as well.

'But no more dances in backstreet pubs, ladies, nor can you be seen in a madhouse. Miss de Bourgh has a much more suitable outing planned.'

'But papa doesn't mind us going there, Nick,' Sophie offers. She really seems to believe that.

Anne is not offended that they have little faith in her choice of entertainment. She lets Nick tell them, she's starting to fade a little, it's been a long day.

'Miss de Bourgh wants to take you to her cousin's army camp and have some officers show you around.'

The letter! She forgot all about it. Well, it will keep until she is in her own room.

'That sounds like fun, Anne. But not if Nick is unhappy. Please tell us what to do, Nick, we'll do anything for you.'

A gentle hand gives her a little shake and Anne wakes up just a tiny bit. Where is she?

'Miss de Bourgh, you fell asleep in the carriage. Shall I carry you to your room, or can you walk?'

Though a haze of fatigue Anne can see Nick's face bent over hers. He looks faintly amused, which is an improvement on the rest of the evening. She feels angry and frustrated to fall asleep like a child, but she has to admit she cannot for the life of her stand up and walk in, her muscles feel like jelly.

Vaguely alarmed she tries to speak, and fortunately she doesn't humiliate herself further by slurring her speech.

'Give me a little more time, please? I would prefer to walk by myself.'

She cannot see the girls anymore, they must have gone in, and Nick is still with her. After about five minutes, she can move her arms and legs again, and she tries to get up. It works, thank God.

'This is very scary, Nick, it's as if I'm frozen solid.'

'You're doing fine, Miss, here, take my hand, you're getting there.'

The cold outside brings her back to herself, and she finds her muscles working again. Nick takes her to her room, where Dora is already waiting to help her undress.

'Good night, Miss, and thank you for giving me back my courage.' And Nick is gone, leaving Dora.

'Did you have a good time, Miss?' the girl asks.

'Well, not exactly,' she replies, 'but I think it was a very useful evening. I hope something will change because of it. And now I need to sleep, I keep overestimating my strength.'

'You are so much stronger than you used to be, Miss, and so much more alive. I'm so happy to see that. I'm sure these weak spells will go away, you never did much, you know, and Miss Sophie and Miss Angelina are always running about. You'll get used to it, and soon.

Things were quiet here, too, Miss. I did what you suggested and stayed with Felicity. We both felt safer that way. Well, I'm done, you can turn in now. Good night, Miss.'

'Good night, Dora.'

Anne is asleep when she hits the bed.

Once back home, Darcy really wants to know what Manners' game is.

'You know gossip says you're in love with my cousin, don't you, Manners?'

'I do, Darcy, and it suits me to have them think so. Miss de Bourgh knows I'm not in love with her, she told me just this afternoon.'

'You can never tell her the truth, though, so why not just keep a little distance?'

'If you insist I will, Darcy, but I am generally as familiar with everyone I like. The world just doesn't choose to see that, they want me to be in love with a beautiful lady, and will see proof of it anywhere they can. And I think very highly of your cousin, Darcy. The moment may come when I reveal my true nature to her. But not just yet.'

'Well, it's you life, not mine. I don't think Anne is a gossip, but I don't see why she should know either. Still, I concede your point that you are not treating her any differently from any other lady of your acquaintance. And if she knows your intentions, that's good enough for me, she's a woman grown.'

'In fact, she does not know my intentions. She just knows what my intentions aren't. But for now, that is enough, we like each other, we plot together, she's more like me than any of you. She likes town, and getting through to people. She's just starting, though, there is a lot she needs to learn before she can really start to play the game. It'll be my pleasure to teach her.'

'Then you'll be pleased to know she's probably coming to Pemberley for summer. There is no real reason for scheming there, but maybe you can teach her some basic rules.'

'Fabulous, I like that. You know a girl like her, innocent, even naïve, and in the possession of a good fortune, future heiress, they are generally in some danger of falling prey to mercenaries. But your cousin, she is different. I think you don't need to worry about her.'


	85. Chapter 85

Chapter 95

A sound wakes her and scares her out of her wits. Someone is in her room! She can hear heavy breathing, and there is a presence right next to her, she can feel the heat and a metallic, masculine smell coming off it. It's pitch dark and she cannot see anything.

'It's me, Miss, come to check on you, you seemed almost paralysed for a few moments in the carriage. Did I scare you?'

Nick, damn him! She almost died of fright!

'I was asleep, you scared the life out of me!'

She tries to move her arms and legs, fortunately they do what she wants them to. Her eyes are starting to get used to the dark, and she can make out a sturdy shape in a weird dress-like garment, a ghost she would say if she didn't recognise the face now so very close to hers that she can feel his breath on her skin.

'I can move all right. Thank you for caring, I guess.' She's a bit disgruntled to have been scared so badly.

'I'm sorry Miss, I shouldn't have come. Fact is, I was feeling rather in need of a little comforting and I hoped you might be willing to indulge me.'

'It's done now, so you may as well stay.'

Her body is awake now, suddenly she discerns his scent quite clearly, and her hands take hold of both manly cheeks. A gasp of pain? A sticky feeling? Something is not right.

'What is going on, Nick, why does my touch hurt you?'

'You told me I needed visible evidence of being abused. I have it now. And witnesses, four girls, two of them maids, two of them the young misses. He was waiting for me when I got to the servants' quarter, and all four of them came in when he was beating the stuffing out of me.

He ran off, unmarked, I don't know where, I was in no state to watch. I told the girls I was fine, and to go to bed and tell the master in the morning. I wasn't, of course, but they're just girls, what can they do? So I went to bed, too, but I can't sleep, I hurt, badly, and I'm bleeding somewhere. Several somewheres, actually.'

Can anyone understand men? To play games in the dark while they may be dying of trauma?

Anne jumps from under the covers, it's cold, and she takes the time to put on her dressing-gown before she picks up an ember from the hearth to light the candle. Poking up the fire will help to get some light in here. She takes the candle to the table by the hearth, throws a few blocks on the ashes and stirs it up to a blaze. Now she can see.

'Can you come to the fire? I want to see how badly you are hurt.'

Nick is no whiner, if he can't sleep because of the pain something is damaged. This time, it's her turn to help him up, and she takes him to the chair by the fire. He sits down with a grunt. His face is a mess, he meant it literally when he said he didn't see the butler leave, his eyes are both swollen shut. One cheek is black and blue, and he has a cut on the cheekbone on the other side, and several on the back of his head.

Quickly grabbing a towel and all the washcloths she has in her room, as well as her ewer with clean water, she carefully cleans all the gashes, and the rest of his face, he has been bleeding a lot. It's very painful to have those wounds cleaned, but Anne does it nonetheless, she knows it is important to do that soon, and who knows what the bastard used to hit Nick with.

When she is done with his face, she asks, 'Where else were you hit? Was he all by himself? How long did you let him lay into you for?'

'Please don't be angry, Miss,' he says in a small voice. And then dryly, 'Yes, he was by himself, and I didn't want to damage him, I didn't know those girls had heard the noise and were determined to help me git rid of the piece of shit. I thought he'd tire of it eventually, but he wouldn't stop, I think he had lost it and would have killed me eventually. He kicked me where he could, I may have broken a few ribs, breathing hurts, and I think he hit me with a piece of wood, it hurt too much for bare fists. I curled up to protect my belly, but it didn't help much, he got to it anyway. My man's parts feel like mush, only my legs seem to have come off pretty well. I just want to lie down and die in your arms, Miss. May I, please?'

Since working is better than crying, and the fire is pretty hot by now, she briskly relieves him of his strange garment, a nightshirt, and carefully checks every inch of him to not overlook something that may really kill him without a doctor's help. He was right, his legs are relatively unscathed, his back is covered in large bruises, and his belly is a mess. She has never seen a man's private parts, but these look awful, like a bag of soggy vegetables but in an unhealthy shade of blue. She cleans out a few more cuts, but doesn't know what to do about the bruising.

'I think you need a doctor, Nick. You may be bleeding inside, you may be concussed, and your manly parts look like something ate them then spit them up again.'

He laughs weakly, then quickly checks down there with some difficulty, and laughs even more, though still weakly.

'Actually, they're supposed to look like that, except not blue but flesh-coloured. They hurt worst of all. My belly hurts but just on the surface, I can't see much but I'm not dizzy or nauseous, and I really, really want a cuddle right now. May I please lie in your bed and hold you until I feel a little better?'

He is not going to feel better for quite some time, but Anne banks the fire as best she can, then helps him into the bed, without the strange garment. She knows what she is doing is terribly sinful, but she is going to do it anyway. Besides, he is in no shape to ravage her, even if he wants to.

She removes her dressing gown, and on impulse removes her nightgown as well, then crawls in beside him, snuffing out the candle. He snuggles against her, and she can feel his lips on hers, he wants to kiss again, and by now his scent and the feel of naked skin on naked skin have set her on fire, so she returns it eagerly.

Too eagerly, for instead of his tongue, she tastes blood. Not a lot, but it reminds her he is hurt and needs to be treated gently. The taste of blood fades away, and now the kiss tastes as it did this morning, very warm and very good. There is no way to know whether his moans are ardour or pain, and Anne can only curb her heat and stay gentle, and follow his lead. She supposes he'll stop when it hurts.

A moan escapes her when he touches her bare breasts, they have never been touched by a man before now, and this is not even really a man's touch. For Nick is in too much pain to feel true heat, he is mostly seeking comfort in her soft body, and he finally finds it with his body pressed close to hers, and his face on her chest, between her breasts. She can feel his body relax and hears his breathing slow down, which alarms her at first until she remembers the girls sound the same when they fall into a deep sleep. She dares not go to sleep herself, he must be taken to his own room before the household awakens or the results will be catastrophic.

But there is plenty to think about and more to feel, the body against hers is bigger than her own, but he's not fat, it's muscle. Still, it's nice and soft, and there are hairs growing on it in a lot of places. They tickle. She strokes his hair very gently, somehow she understands that he really needs his sleep to recover, but her own feelings do need an outlet or she'll burst.

This is the worst thing that can happen, a man she likes but can never love getting injured. It's a recipe for disaster, the chances that she will not fall in love with him are negligible. He's so helpless, and so dependent on her. But he's also a self-proclaimed ladies' man, he does not wish to be claimed, and she merely wishes to explore the new world he showed her. Not for some time now, not with him, in this state. Still she will see him back to health, it takes great courage to not hit back when assaulted, he wanted to be blameless so badly, and it nearly killed him.

Her shaken feelings of the last days slowly take over from her common sense, and she vents them by crying softly, inhaling the fragrance of his hair, feeling his arms and legs clamped around her own, his face between her breasts, his hand on one of them. Of course she has no chance of staying awake all night, she manages for half an hour, but then she can feel the world slipping away into sleep.

It is still dark when she wakes, the warm body beside her stirring just a little. Soon, the stirring becomes more pronounced, the hands clutch at her, and he starts groaning. He's in pain. Anne has no idea what time it is, she has a clock but it's too dark to see. But she is rather certain that Nick needs something, painkillers, or even more care, she cannot handle this by herself. Even if she manages to get him back to sleep, it has to be in his own bed, where he can remain until they send for a doctor. Well, that means there is work to do, and Anne slowly removes herself from Nick's side and from the bed, where she lights the candle and stirs up the fire yet again, adding the last blocks of fuel. He mumbles a protest at her absence, but he must be in great pain and unable to realise the danger they're in. The clock shows four in the morning, and Anne is wide awake and feeling strong. Good, she'll need it.

First she dresses in her oldest dress, it may get bloody when she tries to get Nick downstairs and into his own bed. Then she retrieves his nightshirt and opens the buttons, she'll never get it over his head. The room is getting warmer as she sits by his side and gently removes the blankets.

'No, it's cold, and dark, it's way too early to get up,' he protests, then, 'and I don't feel so well. I don't think I can go walking with you today, Miss. I hurt, everything hurts.

He sits up with a groan, ever more lucid now, and hisses, 'What time is it? The cook starts at six! I need to leave, but it hurts so bad.'

His voice dies down to a whisper, and he clings to Anne.

'We're in for it now, I can't walk at all. I'll never get to my own room, I must have been mad to come here and drag you into it. I'm so sorry, Miss. But I felt so lonely and it hurt so much.'

'I was glad to have you with me, Nick. Someone hurt you on purpose, and I needed to make up for that. I'm sure I can get you downstairs, but I'm very afraid I'll fall in love with you. You look so helpless and so incredibly sweet.'

'And I cannot bring myself to be crabby to you, to make you dislike me, you have held me so well that I have slept almost through the night. My bed will be very cold without you. Well, it cannot be helped. I may hurt but I feel much better, there is no way Wellesley can talk himself out of this. I bet we will never see him again, he thinks he's killed me. One kiss before I try to move?'

They kiss, the taste of blood is gone, leaving a whiff of metal. He still smells so good, she wants to hold him forever, but he cannot be claimed.

After the kiss he does move, and she helps him into the nightshirt, then buttons it down.

'Let's do it right away, when we reach my room you can wake someone or find me a painkiller yourself. I hope I haven't bled all over your bed, it would give us away as surely as being caught.'

Step by painful step they reach the stairs, their only fortune that Nick's legs hold him pretty well. But everything else is stiffening and swelling, and Anne is in a state of constant anxiety, fearing he'll collapse or suffer some relapse. It takes half an hour to reach his room, via the privy since he will not be able to reach that by himself, and she tucks him in with another kiss. He tells her where to find the painkillers, and she fetches her candle to find them in the dark, in a room where she has never set foot before. If she ever owns her own house, she promises herself, she will know every single room in it, and will be able to find anything she needs by herself, in the dark, even in the servants' quarters and the stables.

Painkillers found, she cannot find water but only a small vat of beer, which will have to do. Drawing it is easier than it looks, and she takes both prizes to Nick's cubicle, which she manages to find when he calls out softly as she passes it by for the second time. Of course he is pleasantly surprised to take the powder with beer, which is safer as well as easier, since Anne doesn't know which water is meant for drinking.

As they wait for the painkillers to take effect, Nick begs her not to leave him all alone, which she isn't planning to anyway. She will stay until he is fast asleep, or until the household starts to stir. Or maybe she will stay anyway, professing she found him while investigating a noise. No-one will wonder what she is doing here when they see the extent of his wounds, and hear the witnesses' report on who did it to him.

She sits on his bed and holds him until his face shows some relief of the pain. Then he starts to nod, and soon he is fast asleep once more. Anne returns the cup to the kitchen and runs upstairs to clear up the mess in her room. She takes the bloody towel and washcloths down to his room, as if she has used them there. And she checks her sheet and blanket, finds the sheet indeed blood-stained, and changes it, washing out the blood with water from her ewer, then dropping it in her laundry basket. Hopefully Dora will not ask too many questions.

Nick is still asleep, and she watches him with some very tender feelings. Is she really unable to resist the temptation of a strong man rendered helpless? She should avoid him from now on, but she already knows she cannot. But he cannot be claimed, as soon as he is back to health he will turn her down, start seeing other ladies, and Anne will most likely flee to Darcy's house, where she will nurse her broken heart while listening to soft melodies played on the piano.

That picture satisfies her completely, it gives her permission to fuss over him as much as she likes, he will put an end to it, she will not try to hold on to him, she is too proud to make a fool of herself over a man twice. He will not wake for some hours, the cuts have stopped bleeding, he was lucid and very shrewd, she can go back to bed and catch a few hours of sleep until breakfast.

But of course she has forgotten the maids. They cannot lie in bed until breakfast, there is work to be done, and they are up and about around seven. Talking about what happened last night, they notice the signs of the fight, and neither the instigator, nor the victim are anywhere to be seen. Do they wait for the master, or should they inform the cook? They had expected Nick to be there, coolly explaining to the other staff-members what happened.

Finally Dora has had it, and she tells the cook that the missing butler lashed out at the missing retainer last night, and that the latter went to bed, and the former ran away. It is the right thing to do, the cook delegates cooking breakfast to his underlings, checks the butler's room to find it empty, checks Nick's room to find him in his bed with two shiners and numerous cuts and bruises in his face.

He is breathing regularly and deeply, and the cook decides to let him sleep. He does notice the wounds have been cleaned, and there are washcloths and a towel from upstairs lying about, covered in blood. So someone found him and cleaned him up, then put him back to bed.

'Nick told us to go to bed, then tell the master in the morning. Do we wait until Nick wakes up?'

The maids are so young, but they take their task seriously.

'Better wait another hour, the master rises early. Whose towel is this?'

'It's from the guestroom, so that means Miss de Bourgh's.'

'Will you check on her as well? Wellesley is gone, and he had some disturbing ideas lately. He may have kidnapped or hurt the young lady.'

So Dora sneaks in to find her mistress fast asleep, but still more alive than she ever used to be, with blushing cheeks and mussed up hair. She used to sleep like the dead, lying still all night. This is much better.

Her ewer is nearly empty, and her stack of wood is almost gone. Not that her mistress would know how to make a fire, but a room should have a stack of wood, so she quietly builds it up and fills the ewer. Then she removes the laundry and lays out the mistress' clothes for the next day, removing an awful old dress with an old-fashioned low waist. It's crinkled because it hasn't been put away correctly, and there are some bloodstains on the sleeve. Dora hopes that this means she can throw it out, if the mistress wants to stay in London and live with the Darcy family she will need fashionable dresses like those she bought last week.

Slowly, her mind makes the connection between bloody towels and a bloodstained dress. The mistress must have woken up and found Fowler bleeding. She must have put on an old dress, and taken him to his room to clean his wounds with her own towel and water. Of course she doesn't know where anything is downstairs.

There will be a staggering story to be heard when she wakes up, and Fowler wakes up.

When Anne wakes the next time it is light outside. She instantly remembers last night, and looks around the room. The wood has been replaced, the ewer has been filled, her old dress is gone and the laundry basket as well. She rings for Dora, who comes in as if she has been waiting for the sound of the bell.

'Was it you, Miss, who saved Fowler from bleeding to death? He woke up an hour ago, in agony, poor man, and told us he'd walked through the house tonight in a kind of haze of pain, and had been rescued by a lady who tended to his wounds and put him back in bed with a painkiller. Miss, he is black and blue all over, and we were all called into the master's office and he asked us a million questions. Now he's sent people out to look for Wellesley, to have him charged with attempted murder. He says he means to see him hang. I've never seen anyone that angry, well, except the mistress at home, but I could always get away from her. Now I had to stay and tell everything to some man in a fancy coat.

The doctor came and drew sketches of Fowler's wounds, he really did, Miss, and now poor Fowler may not leave his bed for a whole week, except to, you know what. He's such a hero about it, and he really wants to thank you for saving him last night. The doctor said you cleaned those wounds like a trooper. I guess he used to be in the army. Are you all right after waking up in the middle of the night? Weren't you scared? I sure was scared seeing that horrid man laying in poor Fowler, he's been so nice to me, and to everybody else. The cook was very much ashamed of not telling the master before, but I understand, Fowler made light of it himself, and their master didn't seem to care much about his staff. Now they know he does.'

At least the little maid is very much relieved to be rid of the butler, and having dared to help bring him down.

'I'm fine, Dora, I was very tired but now I'm fine. But Fowler was rather heavy and I found him on the top floor, getting him down was quite a task. I'd like to see him before breakfast, he looked pretty bad. Let's get on with dressing, I'm hungry.'

He is waiting for her, and he doesn't look at all adverse to being claimed. In fact, he looks infatuated, though his eyes show a lot of pain as well. They are alone, and the door is closed, so she kneels beside the bed and enters his outstretched arms.

'My saviour,' he breathes into her ear, causing her a shiver and a desire to kiss him.

Well, they are in for it anyway, so she does, and he gives himself up to that kiss as if there is no tomorrow. He is not going to be the sensible one, that is obvious.

'Does it hurt very much?' she hears herself say, with a sense of the inevitable. See, they are both doomed.

'Yes, Miss, it does. I feel as if I have been racked, and I shouldn't say this to a lady, but my balls hurt like the devil. Sorry, Miss. But they do. Still, I'm glad I didn't put as much as a scratch on him, for the master has someone tracking him down, and when they find him they will see I didn't do anything to deserve this. You were right all along, Miss, the master does care, and he would have stood up for me much earlier. Those maids admitted Wellesley had been picking on me for a long time, and he asked me very seriously and a bit hurt why I hadn't trusted him. I confessed I thought the higher rank was always right, until you told me others were suffering, too.

Then he told me he liked me, and respected me for doing such a good job with his daughters, keeping them out of trouble, taking care their ridiculous outings were always safe and as secret as possible. Miss de Bourgh, he knew all the time! He just thought they had the right to make some fun before they settled. I have been torturing myself, and letting myself be tortured by damned Wellesley, on a mistaken premise. The master praised me for getting his girls to obey me when necessary, and for teaching them some boundaries. He thought they had improved immensely already. I'm incredibly relieved, but at the same time I cannot believe what I have suffered. It was all for nothing!'

It's time for breakfast, she has to leave him, and she has no good reason to visit by day, so he will have to do without her for quite some time.

'I so wished to go out walking with you, Miss, and tell me about my brothers and sisters, and my mum and dad. They're retired now, you see, we all pitch in to make them comfortable in their old age. But you need to eat, Miss, and I'm keeping you from your breakfast. May I come to you tonight? If I can manage the stairs?'

She wants it so badly, but it's such a terrible idea. Still, he's in pain, and shocked, that madman might have killed him. Once he's recovered he'll come to his senses, and she will, subsequently.

'If you cannot manage I'll come to you. It's more sensible anyway, if you bleed, your bedding cannot give you away. And if we oversleep, I can be back in my own room more quickly.'

'I can hear a cock crow from here. I never oversleep in this room. I'm so sorry, Miss, to drag you into this. Maybe you should go to Mr Darcy's home immediately, the problem here is solved. There never was one, Mr Blackwood doesn't care what his daughters do as long as they're safe.'

'It's too late Nick. I'm afraid I'll need someone to drag me away from here. I have high hopes for Mr Manners. But until then, I'll be there for you. See you tonight!'

Breakfast is a strange affair. They all sit in total silence, drink coffee and eat, until Mr Blackwood finds some words to start with.

'Miss de Bourgh, we owe you a great debt. Through my negligence, a servant I value for his work, but even more so as a fellow human being, was gravely hurt, under my roof. I never had a clue what was going on, I should have. Nick has been withdrawn for some time now, and I never asked why. Without you, he would have been wandering the house all night, delirious with pain in search for help, abandoned and forlorn. He could have fallen down the stairs, or spent the whole night in the cold, unattended, his wounds going bad.

Thank you so much for caring for him, for daring to investigate a noise in the hall in the first place. For convincing him I would save him from his tormentor. I assure you I will take better care of my household from now on. Work can wait, or I'll hire someone.

The girls told me you liked the pie from the old Rookery, so I took the liberty of having some delivered.'

Whatever happened to Anne that the very thought of that pie makes her mouth water? When she has already eaten quite a lot?

'That is so kind of you, Mr Blackwood. It was so good. Will you give some to Nick, too? He loved it, too, and he is in such pain.'

'Yes, of course! Right away.' And he gestures an attendant, who walks towards a box sitting on the table. But Anne cannot follow his movements, for Mr Blackwood speaks again, to all three of them.

'I know you are used to your amusements, but I will urge you not to repay Nick's faithful service by leaving him unattended when he is incapacitated. Will you all spend part of you day with him, or is that asking too much? Maybe you can read to him, or talk to him, show him we care? I'd do it myself but I'm certain he prefers the company of pretty young ladies. I'll tend to him when you are at your concert tonight.'

'I don't want to go to the concert if Nick's not there with us.'

That must be the first time Sophie has made up her mind ahead of her sister.

'I don't either. The other fellows ogle us when they think Nick's not watching.'

Anne is surprised they don't know, apparently Nick even organises the tickets.

'There is no concert tonight, Mr Blackwood, girls. Mr Fielding is playing at an exclusive meeting of musical scholars tonight. Invitation only, boredom guaranteed. One elderly chap with a fixation on music telling similar chaps about Renaissance music. You wouldn't even like it. I'm not invited either, though my uncle is.'

'Then we can stay with Nick all evening,' Sophie says happily.

Her father is watching her with tolerant fondness. He can't approve of his daughter's infatuation with a servant!

'Now Sophie, he needs to sleep a lot, too. Maybe you can find some other amusement tonight? And I think you should go to the other concerts without him until he is well again, Miss de Bourgh will be there, and we will find you an attendant you like and trust. Nick may need a few weeks to get back into shape, and the season will be over before you know it. I suppose Mr Fielding will go to Pemberley with your family?'

'Indeed he will. Maybe my cousin is still in town, if he is, he may be willing to take us to the concerts. He is a very kind, dependable man, a Colonel in the army, actually. You'll like him, maybe not as much as Nick, but we can see Nick every day, he will be pleased to have some company. I will see my cousin today, if you want me to, I'll ask him.'

'It's not Mr Darcy, is it? For he is not in the army,' Mr Blackwood wants to know.

'No, this is my other cousin, Earl Compton's second son. Though his Christian name is also Fitzwilliam, which makes for confusing conversations at family gatherings.'

'You walk in exalted circles, Miss de Bourgh, though your name may be the most respected of all.'

Well, right now Anne doesn't care two cents about the name, though she wants Rosings all right when her time has come.

The conversation has died down enough for Anne to start stuffing herself on that delectable pie, and this slice is even better. Too bad Nick has to suffer for it, but since he does anyway, she will enjoy every bite of this heavenly concoction.

And it looks like they'll get to be together most of the day, once the girls get bored and go out anyway, Anne can sit with him and he can tell her about his family. Or she can watch him sleep, and steal a kiss or two. Darcy will fetch her right after lunch, maybe she should cool down a lot before sitting down in a carriage with him. She still cannot control her feelings at all, they are always displayed on her face for the world to see.

After breakfast they go to the servants' quarters and sit with Nick, and as Anne expected, Sophie and Angelina start to get restless really quickly, then take their leave, probably to ask their father to send someone for the hired man. Who will ogle them, but nothing more.

Room empty, door closed, Anne first makes her man comfortable. No! Anne makes someone else's faithful servant comfortable. The man who likes noble ladies, any number of them, and who cannot be claimed. Who does his utmost not to claim her now.

'Is there anything you need, Nick?'

'No, Miss, I'm perfectly happy right now. I'm seeing things because of the painkillers, I think they are opium-based, for there is someone sitting beside my bed whom I didn't expect to see all day, and then only vaguely since it would be dark.'

She doesn't say anything, just being here is enough, and he is clearly half asleep and yes, maybe a touch delirious because of the painkillers. He will not be telling her about his family right now, but she will be there when he falls asleep, and hopefully when he awakens.

'I don't want to sleep, Miss, because when I wake up you will be gone. But I cannot stay awake any longer. I'm sorry, Miss, maybe I should have clobbered him. Will you hold me until I sleep?'

Yes, she will. And then she will fetch a book and sit here with him and read. No-one seems to care, and she wants to.

He wants a kiss, too, and they have a lovely ten minutes until he is well and truly out of it. She kisses his face where it isn't hurt or bound up, and takes in his scent to feel her blood rush to her face. And then she forces herself to go up to her room and fetch her book. The chair is simple and hard, so she sits on the bed with her back to the wall, and as she slowly lets herself be drawn into the action of the book, the shape beside her snuggles against her and buries his face in her skirts, showing no sign of waking.


	86. Chapter 86

Chapter 96

When Johnson comes in right after breakfast to hand her a letter, Elizabeth almost jumps, fearing it's another letter from Lydia with more bad news. But it's Kitty's handwriting, and Elizabeth starts reading it with curiosity. Kitty has been married to Mr Lascelles in a small and very private service in London, with just his mother and sister and her mother and father and Mary in attendance. There was no party, and now they are living on his estate with his mother and sister. The sister is Elizabeth's age, and according to Kitty's letter they get on well. They speak French at home, which means Kitty should be a true adept by now.

After several paragraphs on the house, the neighbourhood and the parties they visit, Kitty mentions something that makes Elizabeth rather anxious.

 _You won't believe whom we met just yesterday, Lizzy! I'm going to tell you anyway, but you don't like her. Miss Bingley, Bingley's younger sister, was staying with a friend of Lascelles, and when we visited for a few hours she played the piano for us and sang with her sister, who was staying there too with her fat ugly husband._

Poor Mr Hurst, Elizabeth has gotten to like him when last at Netherfield. Well, a bit at least. He did Fitzwilliam a good turn anyhow.

 _Miss Bingley told us she was engaged to this friend, a tall, handsome man with very blue eyes, who was at Jane's wedding. I danced with him, and I think you did, too. His name was Mr Grenfell. Miss Bingley seemed very much in love, she praised him sky high, and he seemed very fond of her, too, though he is not the kind of man who shows his feeling very much, I think. Not like my Lascelles, who is always paying me compliments and telling me he loves me, but who can get really angry sometimes. Then he always talks French, I've learned some very bad words._

 _So, did you think Miss Bingley would ever find a husband? I certainly didn't, I thought she was too old and she can split wood with her tongue, it's that sharp. We had coffee in a very old-fashioned room, but Miss Bingley said she'd have it all redecorated when her mother in law moved out. We didn't get to see her, but Miss Bingley didn't seem to like her much._

 _Well, now you know that Miss Bingley will soon be Mrs Grenfell. They have a house in town I think, but I'm not sure. I like the country better, I felt a bit stupid and countrified in town, I hope you have come to like it better than you did, but I guess so for you were in the papers and they said all lots of nice things. Miss Bingley didn't mention that when we were there._

 _Jane wrote that you are going to visit Lydia, I'm glad for she seemed out of spirit lately. It's probably because there is war coming with the French, she must be afraid for Wickham. I hope it won't make things difficult for us, Lascelles says it will not, but his mother is afraid it will, since his father was French._

 _Please give my love to Georgiana and Jane, and Bingley and your husband, and everyone else. And tell Lydia we plan to travel north this summer, and we can visit her. We can visit you, too, if you like that. I'd love to see Pemberley._

 _Your loving sister Catherine_

So Miss Bingley is going to marry Mr Grenfell after all. What a mistake, the man is a menace. She hands the letter to Fitzwilliam, who is still reading the newspaper.

'Beware, Fitzwilliam, you will be shocked.'

And he is.

'You know what this means, don't you, Elizabeth?'

In fact, she doesn't.

'It means Bingley, your sister and Manners have been keeping things from us. I am very much tempted to go and ask Bingley what ails him to let his sister marry a man who rapes maidens.'

Angry is an understatement, and Elizabeth agrees. She doesn't like Miss Bingley, but she knows for a fact that any woman who marries Grenfell will be miserable. He has no better feelings at all.

'You know it's none of our business, don't you?'

'Isn't it, Elizabeth? When we know what he is, and she doesn't? I used to be very good friends with Miss Bingley, and still wish her well. Better than Grenfell at the very least. My mind is made up, I'm going out there.'

'Then I suppose I'd better go with you. Do you want to take the carriage?'

His expression softens a lot.

'We haven't rambled for a long time. What do you say we walk? I'm afraid there won't be many trees, but we have time to walk over and be back before lunch. I am meeting Anne today. I told you she accepted our offer to stay here, didn't I?'

'Of course you did, or I would have asked. It's too important not to.'

It's good to be walking with Fitzwilliam, even if it cannot rightly be called rambling, for he is striding angrily, and only her superb physical shape enables her to keep up with his long legged pace.

'Slow down, love, and cool down. You will not make any kind of impression by being angry.'

He takes her advice, but still they arrive in a very short time, to find Bingley out of the house. The butler shows them into the drawing-room, where Jane gets up to greet them, pleased with a surprise visit. But she soon notices their serious expression, and immediately guesses the cause.

'So you found out. Did Frederick tell you?'

'No, I got a letter from Kitty, she told us Miss Bingley had finally caught herself a man. Jane, how can you let them do this? You know the man tried to rape an innocent girl.'

Elizabeth cannot understand it.

'Bingley and Manners, and all their friends, for that matter, think it will reform him, making them both happy.'

Jane has always been unable to see any bad in people, and Bingley isn't any better. But to keep his sister in the dark, how far can one take a friendship? Elizabeth can understand that Frederick doesn't see the harm in his friend, he is not married himself, he cannot relate to a woman as another woman can. But Bingley, she is his sister, they grew up together! Grenfell is as cold as a fish, he will doom her to a life of misery.

'What do you think, Jane?' Fitzwilliam asks, calmly.

'I fear for her, Darcy. She is not my sister, though, and Bingley and Frederick know Grenfell a lot better than we do. I tried to get them to at least tell her, but they told me it was none of my business. As it is none of yours, really. She's Bingley's sister.'

Jane does not believe this herself, and Fitzwilliam can read her as well as Elizabeth does, so he does not elaborate.

'Do you want coffee? I expect Bingley to return any moment. He is arranging some things Caroline wants for the wedding. To be honest with you, I worry about this. They seem to care more for each other than for her, and if they would just tell her what he did, and what he did before that, she could make a well-informed decision. But now? He may kill her in a fit of rage.'

Jane bursts out crying, it's clear she is very worried indeed, and has had no-one to talk to. They must have sworn her to secrecy, and for a moment, Elizabeth feels an intense dislike for both Bingley and Frederick. They're not just hurting Miss Bingley, they're hurting her sister! Leading Jane to a sofa, Elizabeth sits down with her to comfort her, and calm, solid Jane uses the opportunity to indulge in a good cry, with heaving sobs and plentiful tears. Fitzwilliam observes the sisters in silence, not uncomfortable at all with the situation, but still very upset with his two friends.

When a servant enters with coffee, Jane stops crying instantly, sits up and apologises.

'I'm sorry, Darcy, that must have been very uncomfortable. I may as well tell you, I'm a bit sensitive at the moment, I think I'm already with child. It's a bit early to be certain, but it feels like it. And you know we are from a very fertile family. Maybe it's best if you keep it from Lydia for a while, Lizzy, it may hurt her when she wanted a baby so badly.'

Elizabeth congratulates her sister, she is obviously pleased to be with child, but this situation with Bingley and Manners doing things that go against her sense of justice is a bad, bad thing. Jane must have felt so very alone, being forbidden to talk about it with her sister, and undoubtedly her aunt as well. How can they do that to Jane? Fitzwilliam will certainly give Bingley a large piece of his mind, but Elizabeth will take it upon herself to chew out Frederick. He tends to think he is above the law and above common decency, she will show him he isn't. And she will let him know what she thinks of two men ganging up against her favourite sister, who is in a vulnerable position.

'Poor Jane, how you must have suffered. When is the wedding taking place?'

'Saturday. We are leaving tomorrow.'

'I am totally speechless, Jane.' Fitzwilliam sounds really disappointed, actually sad.

'I was a good friend of Miss Bingley's, and I wish her all the best. But she is not going to get it with such a man. Dear Jane, I congratulate you with your blessed state, and I am not going to argue with my friend in front of you. It will only upset you further. I'm very sorry this is happening, and I'm very afraid of what it will do to my friendship with Bingley. We haven't been as close since we married, but this secrecy, I'm really hurt by it. Please forgive us for barging in on you, and upsetting you. We're off to Newcastle tomorrow, good luck at the wedding and we will see you in three weeks.'

He kisses Jane on both cheeks, and she clings to him for a few moments, she really needs some support right now. Elizabeth has to respect Fitzwilliam's decision not to argue with Bingley in front of Jane, but she will certainly force a promise out of Frederick to let Jane share her worries with her aunt at the very least. To sacrifice Miss Bingley like that, it's just intolerable.

'Goodbye, Jane, try to remain calm and see you in three weeks. Do you want me to come back this afternoon? I hate leaving you like this. Fitzwilliam is meeting Anne today, I can have him drop me off here.'

'Yes, please, Lizzy, would you? I'm very upset, and no-one listens to me.'

'I'll be over after lunch then, but first I'm going to give Frederick a very large piece of my mind. It's not his own sister he is feeding to the wolves.'

And just like that they are on their way back home.

'I fear for our friendship, my love. I really wonder whether I can remain friends with two men who plan such a thing and then keep it from us to spare themselves the trouble of explaining their actions.'

There is nothing Elizabeth can add to that, she feels exactly the same. Their walk home takes a little longer, and neither of them has anything to say.

Once they have returned, Elizabeth tells her beloved, 'Let me handle Manners, my love. I think this needs a woman's touch. And besides, they're hurting Jane.'

He does not object, so she gathers her courage and stomps off to look for Manners. She finds him in the drawing-room, reading the papers, and he immediately spots that he is in trouble, and worse so than a few days ago when Fitzwilliam found out the family where Manners had placed Anne was engaging in dubitable entertainment for their daughters.

'Elizabeth, I can see I am in dire trouble. Sometimes I am too clever for my own good, and now I'm going to pay for it.'

She is not in the mood to humour him, but he does look rather funny. Still, it's Jane they're talking about.

'I am not amused, Frederick. I've just left my sister who was in tears because you and Bingley set up his sister with a rapist and you forbade her to talk to me about it. I can think of nothing you can say to make that look better than what it seems now.'

'Put that way there is no escape for either of us. It's a harsh term, Elizabeth.'

He is totally serious now, and obviously not impressed by her arguments.

'True, though. He would have raped Fanny then, and every following day, that is what he promised her. Your friend is a danger to society, especially its women, and he should not be free in it.'

'That is exactly why we want him to marry. So he will no longer be free. Miss Bingley will bind him to her, she will lead him and make him better his life.'

'You are blind to your friend's faults, Frederick. That man is a menace, and he will make Miss Bingley's life a hell on earth. But even if she were to be his deliverance, and if she were willing to marry him knowing he suffers from violent spells and has no objections to forcing his urges on helpless maidens, what gives you the right to muzzle my sister? I care about my sister!'

'Bingley also cares about his sister. Grenfell will not hurt her, nor anyone else, or he will answer to us. Permanently.'

Manners' voice is like a knife, and Elizabeth staggers back as if cut. Does he suggest they'll kill him if he ever transgresses again? Does she even know this man? Two of her sisters are married to members of his clique. Fitzwilliam's cousin is aiming to marry him. Is he a human being at all? Are they harbouring a monster in their midst?

'No, Elizabeth. Please don't look at me like that.'

His voice has softened immeasurably, to sound pained.

'We're not going to murder him. I'm sorry for the tone, the very though of him angers me as much as it does you, don't think Grenfell's deeds don't affect me. But he is our friend, we are responsible for him. If he so much as pinches Miss Bingley, or anyone else, we hand over a thick file on his misdeeds, all his misdeeds, to a judge, and we'll sue him either to the gallows, or to Australia. This is his last chance, and he knows it. And she knows it.'

Elizabeth looks up. 'She knows?'

'Yes Elizabeth, I told her myself. We had to tell her, you were both right, all three of you actually, for Jane did argue as eloquently as you. She had to know what she was getting herself into. It's not that we don't want to wash our hands of him, we cannot. He would leave a trail of victims behind him that we could have prevented. Miss Bingley is not popular, Elizabeth. She has never had an offer of marriage, and she realises she may never get another one. Grenfell is wealthy, his grounds are beautiful, he has a house in town, he is very handsome and he can be very polite and even kind. Really. She was eager to take him. Ask Lascelles if you don't trust me.

'I thought your sister was satisfied with our giving Miss Bingley a choice, and with the way we planned to secure his good behaviour. But now I wonder if we told her, she did not want to have anything do with the whole business from the start. We didn't order her to keep quiet, I suppose that just happened. She and Bingley had a big row over it, and I guess they stopped talking about it. I'm afraid it's not only keeping quiet to you that hurt her, Elizabeth. I think she's disappointed in Bingley, and she loves him less because of this. I'm sorry we dragged him into it, your sister never made a conscious decision to marry one of us. She married a normal, sensible chap and then he got dragged back in. And now his sister is involved as well. She will not back out, she wants the riches, the fur, the carriages, the house in town. The status of being married.

I can see I'm in big trouble, not just with you or Darcy, though I dread his judgement. We have driven a wedge between Jane and Bingley, and she may never forgive him, or us.'

Elizabeth doesn't know what to think. She likes Frederick, she really does, but he is so slick. She trusts him with her life, but not in this. It's his only blind spot, his friends are his all, they are above the law. And Jane, it's even worse than she thought. Not talking to Bingley, with child and unhappy.

'I can't deal with this, Frederick. I don't know whom to trust anymore, I'm just a country girl with twenty years to my name. I cannot outsmart you, or outtalk you. I have become attached to you, but where your friends are concerned you seem like a totally different man. I'm going to see my sister after lunch, and try to comfort her before we drive off to comfort my other sister, whose worthless man may be my most sensible brother-in-law after all.

But first, I'm going to cry. Cry for our friendship, for I don't see it surviving this.'

And she does just that, in silence. She has come to love Frederick like a brother, but he is a schemer, who doesn't always consider the feelings of others in his intricate plots. He counts on straightening everything out by smoothing things over with his velvet tongue, but this time he has gone too far.

She does not see his agony, she does not hear his quiet plea to forgive him. She is heartbroken.

And that is how Eric finds them. He is merely dropping in to fetch some music sheets they left on the piano, and finds an extraordinary scene. Elizabeth is sitting in a chair, face hidden in her arms, crying her eyes out in relative silence. Frederick is watching her with a face filled with heartbreak, and no clue what to do. He looks at Eric in desperation and says, nothing. Frederick speechless? This must be bad. Eric doesn't hesitate, he sits on the floor in front of Elizabeth, turns around and orders, 'Don't stand there, Frederick, get Darcy!'

'I can't, Eric, he'll kill me. I don't want to lose them.'

'Get Darcy, Frederick. If he kills you, you probably deserve it. You made my idol cry, I hate you until you give me a damned good reason.'

Frederick leaves the room.

Eric has never seen Elizabeth like this, she's always strong and has a solution for everything. He wasn't lying to Frederick, he can't stand to see her this way, and he takes one of her hands to let her know he is with her. What did Frederick do to upset her so badly?

The door opens and Darcy comes running in. He comes straight towards the two of them, Eric makes way quickly, and his tall patron picks up his beloved easily, holding her against him as if she weighs nothing. Elizabeth wraps her arms around him and buries her face in his neck, her voice sounds broken as she pleads her husband something Eric cannot quite hear.

Though the situation in the room feels very uncomfortable, and Eric would prefer to remove himself

from it, he has a feeling that would be a very bad idea. His presence is required, this is where he repays both parties involved for the kindness they have shown him.

Darcy sits down with Elizabeth still in his arms, then shakes his head slowly at Frederick.

'I'm with Elizabeth here, Manners. I don't get you at all, I really don't know what to think or what to do. Do you care about people at all? Besides your precious friends? Are we merely pawns in some sort of game you're playing?'

He isn't angry, much the opposite, he's beat. Like Elizabeth. This is very bad. Frederick must have done something horrible, his face certainly suggests it. Eric feels bound to speak.

'This may be none of my business, but can someone tell me what is going on?'

Darcy is the one to reply, since Frederick is as yet unable to speak, seeming close to tears himself.

'Manners and Bingley have set up Bingley's sister to marry a friend of theirs, a violent man who has proven himself capable of rape.'

'Miss Bingley is getting married?' The vibrant voice of Eric's beloved drips with sarcasm. Georgiana must have just entered the room, he never saw her come in.

'She must be very happy then. I thought her chances of finding someone willing to marry her were as good as non-existent. I suppose only a rapist will have her.'

What a ludicrous thing to say, Georgiana may be very young, and blunt, but there are certain boundaries and she's just crossed them.

'Don't look so disapprovingly at me, Eric, you don't know her. She made my life a misery for years, with her boring talk and her nasty mind. If she wants to marry a rapist, who am I to object?'

'The point is, Georgie, that she doesn't know what he is, since Bingley and Manners here didn't think she needed to know what their friend Grenfell had been up to.'

Grenfell, the name rings a bell. Georgiana certainly knows him.

'You want her to marry Grenfell? I remember him. He frightened the blazes out of me.'

Darcy adds, 'Elizabeth and I objected, so they forced poor Jane to keep quiet, hoping we wouldn't find out. We found her desperately unhappy.'

Georgiana probably wouldn't find this Grenfell frightening anymore, she has changed. She states boldly, 'That is criminal, Frederick. I know Caroline is mean and petty, but she is still a human being. You can't just marry her off to a madman.'

Frederick has found his voice, but only just.

'She knows what he is. We told her. And we didn't tell Jane to keep quiet, she fought with Bingley about it then told us to leave her out of it. So we did.'

'Well, if Caroline wants to get married so badly she'll take a rapist, I say good for her. Why make such a fuss about it? Just apologise to Jane, see that Bingley makes up with her, and everybody will live happily ever after. Except Caroline, of course, but she did have a choice.'

Is Georgiana right here? Eric remembers the Grenfell character now, big, loud and violent, but a mama's boy, really. Though rape is pretty bad. He doesn't know Miss Bingley, but Georgiana seriously dislikes her for being mean. Maybe they do deserve each other. But somehow that doesn't seem to be the point here, for Frederick is still ready to fall on his knees and beg for forgiveness.

And damned if he doesn't, approaching Darcy and Elizabeth, kneeling so he can face both of them while they're sitting down.

'I do see life as a game, and people as pawns, I admit. But not you! I have never felt so safe in my entire life as I have staying here with you. You accepted me when most people would have repudiated me. I love both of you desperately, and to be thrown from your protection would kill me. Will you please forgive me? I admit I have done wrong, I will better myself, I will ride to Miss Bingley tonight and beg her to reconsider. If it is important to you, I will even renounce my ties to my friends.'

Eric is absolutely certain that Frederick has never before in his life lowered himself to anyone. And he does it with dignity, it's not like Mr Collins' fawning, Frederick is pleading to save a friendship that means the world to him. Darcy and Elizabeth are staring at him, they probably didn't know he cared.

Then at the exact same time, Elizabeth bends over to him and kisses his forehead, and Darcy says a bit sheepishly, 'Well, if she actually had a choice, Manners, Georgie may be right, maybe Caroline is too sharp for a normal man.'

'I already told Elizabeth, if he harms anyone ever again, we'll sue him ourselves. We have statements and evidence to have him hanged. But it is time we submit to society.'

Eric cannot help but observe, 'It's called growing up, Frederick. Your friends are overdue, you indulge them too much.'

That'll set them thinking, how does he know?

'They are, but they'll have to do it without me. I've been their father and their mother for too long. I'd rather be with people who keep me on the straight and narrow.'

Elizabeth is not back to herself, but she's very happy to have her friend back, and, Eric realises, finally committed to them. There was always some doubt about Frederick's motives, he is so easy to love, but he never showed his love for others. He does now, embracing her with intense feeling. Elizabeth rests her head on his broad chest for a few moments, then kisses him soundly and returns to Darcy's side. But he must also have feared losing their friend, loving him but always wondering whether he was truly on their side. Now he knows, and his usual reticence is hardly visible when he carefully wraps Frederick in a true bear hug. It lasts longer than would have been comfortable if not really meant, and Eric is glad to have seen it.

Frederick has always shown him more of himself, but still even Eric often felt a distinct distance between Mr Manners and the rest of the world. Well, Georgiana and himself are no longer needed here, and there is work to be done, they have an important concert tonight. Eric gathers up the papers he came to fetch, and Georgiana takes his other arm. The piano won't wait.

When Anne has sat reading beside a sleeping manservant for decidedly more than an hour, she detaches herself from his arms and legs to dress for her meeting right after lunch. The movement causes him to stir, then he rolls over and quiets again. Anne tiptoes out of the room and lets the cook know the patient is unattended, to have someone check on him every so often until she returns. Lunch is great, but Anne worries about betraying herself to Darcy. She remembers uncle's letter just in time and reads it quickly, finding that both he and the Colonel approve of her plan, setting a date in a week's time for the visit. Good, by then Nick may be well enough to accompany them.

Darcy arrives, he must be out of his mind, for he has his chubby little driver guiding those four thoroughbreds right through the middle of town. The fellow looks as if his face is going to split grinning, sitting on the box of the little carriage they are all so fond of. It's so light and small, those four monsters can pull it to the moon if they want to. But the plain little fellow is reputed to be the very best driver ever, and Darcy is the most sensible fellow Anne knows, so she lets her cousin hand her in gracefully without the slightest apprehension. Sophie and Angelina would like a ride in this contraption, it's bound to be fast. Mr Blackwood is standing in front of the house trying not to show his awe of both Mr Darcy and his lighting-quick team.

And then they're off.

'You are a vain man, Darcy. Look at how you leave Mr Blackwood behind with a feeling of inferiority. Such a kind man, and you nearly make him cry.'

Her handsome cousin's face now breaks into a similar grin to the driver's, he is loving this, and he soon explains why. It has only a little to do with having his thoroughbreds returned to him.

'I'm afraid I just love impertinence, Anne. I cannot believe how much you've changed in just a week, I wasn't even afraid of sitting in a carriage by ourselves, though one would have expected it to be rather awkward. But it isn't, not at all. You look fine, Anne, and more beautiful every day. You'll be the talk of the town, soon.'

Now his face sobers up a lot.

'But Anne, I cannot imagine that you're not experiencing some sadness about the past. I hope you don't mind Elizabeth telling me about it, we have no secrets between us, I begged her to tell me everything on the day after we got married.'

'You are right of course, Darcy. I have been very angry at my mother, and rather sad at losing ten years of my life. But I feel so much stronger now it's almost making me giddy. Can you imagine waking up from living death and finding yourself able to do things? To be awake, able to read, take a long walk, make fun with other girls. I find it hard to dwell on the past, there is so much to be done, so many experiences to live. And knowing that there was really nothing wrong with me was also a blessing, I'm very thankful to Mr Manners for urging me to see his doctor. Though of course it has made me even more resentful towards mother.

'Well, we'll have your apron-strings cut in no time, dear Anne. How are things at the Blackwood mansion, still spying and plotting for Mr Manners?'

Anne can feel her cheeks flush, remembering last night with a man in her arms. But she pretends to merely have a very exciting story to tell.

'Things actually came to a catastrophic climax last night, Darcy. I told Fowler, you know, the Blackwood retainer, that others were suffering from the butler's bullying, and that he had to tell his master. The girls heard us talk, and he explained his dilemma, his fear of their excursions being brought to the light of day. They suggested spying on the butler and telling their father, having him dismissed without a chance to betray their favourite. We all went to bed.

I woke up in the middle of the night because I heard a noise and decided to investigate. It was Fowler, he had been beaten senseless by the bully, with the girls and two servants walking in on the abuse. He told them to go to bed and tell Mr Blackwood in the morning, but when the pain got worse and he bled a lot he went out to look for help. I found him and took him to his room and cared for his wounds. I, Anne de Bourgh, cleaned bleeding cuts like a trooper. Those were the doctor's words the next day. Anyway, I found a painkiller for him and when he slept I went back to bed.

The next morning, the master of the house set the law on the butler, who had fled the scene, apologised to Fowler for letting his staff get out of hand, revealed he knew what the girls were doing all this time, praised Fowler for taking such good care of them. My reasons for spying cut out from under me. But Fowler is in a sad state, bruises, cuts, broken ribs, he will not be escorting those girls for at least a week. And all this time everyone though Mr Blackwood hadn't a clue what his daughters were doing, and he did. He just thought they needed to have some fun while they were young, and trusted his servant to keep them safe. Well, that's it, my first spying job and it wasn't even necessary.'

Darcy looks at her in contemplation. He does have the nicest voice, and he's so calm and collected.

'That was quite an adventure, Anne. And it seems to have done you no harm. Could it be that you thrive on excitement? I've never seen you so alive, with blushing cheeks, and sparkling eyes. Maybe Manners can find you another spying job, he sure likes to play the board. I think you should not underestimate your influence, Anne. You did get him to take action, and the father to notice his household. Too bad the man got hurt so badly, he seemed very committed to his job. But at least he can stay. Simon likes him, and he's a good judge of character.

Now Anne, I'm ashamed to admit I don't really know you that well, but do you frighten easily?

I guess you can stand the sight of blood, and dare investigate a noise in the middle of the night, but what I mean is, do you fear speed? We're approaching a very long, very quiet lane, and Bob and I really want to enjoy the thrill of flying again. Can I signal him to let the horses have their heads? It's reasonably safe but it won't seem that way. It will be very, very scary, even in here.'

Yes! It'll be fun, and it will explain her blushes perfectly.

'I'm changing every day, Darcy, had you known me then you wouldn't have recognised me now. Though I think I'm turning back into the tomboy you knew when we were all young, I guess that's the real me. So yes, I'd love to get a good scare.'

He is so handsome when he smiles like that. But Anne sees a plainer face now, with a vivid shiner around each of a pair of dark eyes. Darcy doesn't notice her mooning, for he gets up on his legs and knocks on the window towards the box. Then he sits next to her, facing forward.

'Now hold on, Anne.'

It's like riding Darcy's hunter pony bareback, only more comfortable. A sickening lurch proves that Bob is not increasing speed gradually, he's really set those horses free instantly, and they have answered with a burst of speed that leaves Anne pushed into the cushions and weak-kneed with fear. She did not know horses could go that fast.

At this speed, even a tiny irregularity in the road gives a bump inside, and the usually so comfortable little carriage bounces her about as if she's cream being churned into butter. Until the bouncing stops. Are the wheels still touching the ground, or was Darcy being literal when he talked of flying? Instead of wondering whether the harness will hold and hoping the horses won't stumble, Anne takes a firm grip on the seat and looks through the windows on each side, enjoying the sensation of flying. It seems they are on the edge of the city, houses close by but not directly on this road, fields stretching out as far as the eyes can see on the other side. She can feel the carriage slowing now, the bouncing is back, then lessens, and then they are back to a sedate trot, which is still about twice as fast as a normal carriage. They look at each other and smile, Darcy looking like the boy he used to be. He has gotten a lot less serious since his marriage, Elizabeth has done him a world of good.

'Frankly, we had to make quite a detour to get to this road. But Bob will make up for it. I bet his knees are shaking worse than mine, imagine being on the box when the carriage lurches like that. He is a brave fellow, though he wouldn't describe himself as such.'

'He seems so plain and shy, but he must have the courage of a lion. That was fabulous, Darcy. Thank you so much for making me feel alive yet again. I was afraid at first, but I could turn it off really easily.'

After that, the rest of the trip is almost boring, but it's fun to see the people in town gape at the team. Brave Bob undoubtedly has plenty of trouble guiding those horses through the narrow streets of London, but inside the carriage the ride is smooth and quick.

In front of her uncle's house, Darcy hands her out of the carriage. Uncle Spencer and Fitzwilliam are waiting for her outside, and embrace her lovingly.

'You look incredibly beautiful, cousin, I'm so glad we took you away from Rosings.'

Fitzwilliam is such a dear man, how can a soldier who has seen so much action be so mild and so kind? She hugs him back with all the love she is feeling at the moment, some of it really meant for another. But it needs to get out anyway, and Fitzwilliam deserves every bit of love he gets.

'I can see you have had an exciting ride, dear Anne. You do indeed look marvellous, two more weeks and you will be the most beautiful woman in London. Did Darcy try to kill you with those monsters of his?'

Even uncle Spencer is a tiny bit jealous of the thoroughbreds.

'It was incredible. I don't think a person can come closer to flying. His driver must be the bravest man alive.'

'Let's go in and discuss the news. And then we'll take steps to secure your fortune and your inheritance.'

It's a real comfort to talk about her mother with people who know her and who have seen Anne at her worst. She sheds plenty of tears, but despite that she finds herself looking towards the future more than dwelling on the past. Despite the awkwardness, she also tells them about her mother's sin. Her uncle's reaction is twofold.

'I understand your anger, Anne, my sister has never been a very affectionate mother to you, and this time she has gone too far. But I cannot condemn her actions if seen separate from their effect on you: older people, and people who have lost their partners, need love, too. But it is unforgivable that she sacrificed your life to find her own relief. It's just the deed itself that I do not condemn.'

Fitzwilliam is very uncomfortable with the thought that his father professes to need physical love, but Anne cannot help thinking that he himself must seek solace somewhere at certain times. He is an adult, he must have needs, he cannot still be untouched. And somehow, her uncle's reasoning makes her own sin feel less poignant. She needs love, even though she is not yet married, may never even do so.

But those are both embarrassing thoughts, and Anne soon abandons that subject, easy since there is business to handle. Anne's decision to not go back to Rosings must be dealt with financially as well as practically. Uncle Spencer will secure her fortune, and Darcy will help her invest it wisely. Fitzwilliam agrees to visit on Friday, he is back to the camp the next week, where they will meet for a tour, dinner and a dance with officers he will choose himself for their suitability as marriage partner for girls like Sophie and Angelina, of a good family and with a decent fortune to their names. Second sons like himself, Fitzwilliam proposes, of great families and impeccable behaviour, if short on fortunes.

Uncle will shorten his visit to town, he is leaving on Saturday, planning to visit his sister to tell her, well, everything. Anne does not envy him the task, but he is very firm in his opinion that he must be the bearer of bad news. And good news, for Anne is obviously gaining strength daily.

And then Anne suddenly feels a strong wish to return to the Blackwood mansion. Nick will be awake by now, and longing for some company.

'Do you mind returning the Blackwood residence soon, Anne?' Darcy asks. 'We had a bit of a situation with Elizabeth's sister this morning, and I really want to see how that worked out. Whether we can still leave tomorrow. Do not hesitate to move in during our absence, the housekeeper knows, Georgie and Manners will be pleased to have you there. Unless you want to sample the joys of naughty excursions, of course, then you'd better stay right where you are. I've seen some of those places and it can be quite enlightening to find out how other people live.'

Incredible. He doesn't even object. Well, maybe she should go to one of those dances, but not without Nick.

'I'm ready to return to the Blackwoods. I'd like to have a few moments with the girls, to talk about what happened last night. It must have been disturbing to see one man target another so viciously. Thank you so much for what you have done for me, and are planning to do for me. It's as if I have a whole new lease of life.'

When Anne gets back, Mr Blackwood tells her that the girls are sitting with Nick. Good, then she has an excuse to go straight to his little cubicle of a room and sit on his bed. He is very glad to see her and unable to hide it. But he does manage to give a good reason for his show of feeling.

'Miss de Bourgh, you're back! And in one piece! When Miss Angelina told me the master saw you drive off in a tiny carriage behind Mr Darcy's famous team of thoroughbreds I feared for you.'

He does not look well. He is wide awake, and lucid, but his eyes have a strange sheen and his colour is too high. Without thinking, she moves in and touches his forehead.

'You're hot. You have a fever.'

He shakes his head slowly, and contradicts her, though politely.

'You worry too much, Miss de Bourgh. You've just come from the cold, you're cold yourself. Feel Miss Angelina.'

She does, and he is right. Angelina feels hot as well. But why then does he look so different from usual? He looks at her significantly, and she bends towards him.

'You've caught me blushing, Miss. It'll pass, you'll see. I'm sorry, Miss.'

'But your eyes, they look different.'

They really do, she looks at Angelina and then back at Nick, his pupils are so huge his eyes are black instead of their usual friendly brown, while hers are a normal size.

'I do feel different, like I'm not really here. I guess it's the pills, Miss, the doctor did warn me they might cause me to see some strange things. But it's kind of pleasant.'

'So what was is like to ride behind those horses, Anne?' Angelina wants to know.

'It was just incredible,' she replies, 'my cousin went to a long, quiet lane, and then his driver just let go of the horses' heads and they sprang away. It was like flying. I think the carriage really left the ground, for when were going the fastest, the ride suddenly became smooth whereas before it had become rather bumpy the faster we went.

And you, girls, what did you do this afternoon?'

'We went to visit Maria together, we didn't want to go out without Nick. Papa is going to interview a new guard to use until Nick is better. One who doesn't ogle. We had a good time, Leonora was there and we danced with Maria's brothers and a cousin they have over for the season. He likes Sophie, but he's poor and dresses like a peacock. Good dancer, though, but Nick spoiled us for most men. We've been sitting here since because papa wanted us to, but it's boring. Nick is much more fun when he's normal. Do you think we can still go to that dance, Nick?'

'I think so, Miss. Your father doesn't mind, so it's just my being able to stand up that matters.'

'We'll powder your eyes so those ugly black rings don't show.'

Where her entertainment is concerned, Angelina does sound a bit heartless. Better have a little talk with her after dinner.

'I'll fetch my book and mind Nick until it's time to dress for dinner. Or do you want to talk a bit, Nick?'

'Please, Miss. I know it's only because of the pills that I don't feel the pain as much, but I'm still bored. I wish I could go dancing, too.'

And so Anne, against her own better judgement, finds herself alone with Nick once again. She sits on his bed and holds him close, his weird black eyes looking up at her in adulation. This isn't right, it's the pills that make him like this, he's not slavish, he is forceful, self-assured. He will be back to himself, and to his usual pursuits, as soon as he is better. But not now, he snuggles against her, those black-ringed black eyes still watching her, his face a mess, one black cheek and a cut on the other, bandages on his head.

'How is the rest of you, Nick?'

'I've just taken a pill, but before I did everything hurt, I've stiffened up. The doctor came to check the wounds, they're fine but the cleaning hurt more than the blows that caused them. I can't breathe properly because at least two ribs are broken, and my back and stomach are one big bruise. But the worst is my tackle, Anne, I'm afraid I'm never going to make love again in my life. It's dead, I swear.'

Anne ignores his familiarity and course expression, it's the pills speaking. But again he proves he cannot be claimed, making love is his life. Falling in love with him is getting hurt. Still she cannot bear to see him so powerless, she will move to Darcy's house, but not until he is up and back to work. And yes, back to the ladies, for she can imagine his 'tackle' not working after such a beating, and possibly with those pills. It'll heal.

To distract him from such an embarrassing subject she asks him about his family, and he spends half an hour telling her about his brothers and sisters, who seem to have done rather well in life. Then he falls asleep under her loving caresses, and this time she leaves him to find the girls. She has a merry time with them, playing games in the drawing-room and listening to them singing duets. They're good, maybe Anne can learn to play the piano when she's living with Darcy. Mr Blackwood comes in and thanks her for being so kind to Nick, but he also wants to know how her trip with those lovely horses went about. When she tells him how they seemed to be flying he looks even more envious than he did before.

'Such a team must cost a fortune,' he muses regretfully.

'It does, sir, and it took my cousin two years to find the right horses. They also need a special driver for they will shy at anything. I think they may be more trouble than they are worth, sir, though a lot of people looked at them in admiration.'


	87. Chapter 87

Chapter 97

Their last night in London for quite some time is very enjoyable. Darcy can't even regret the unfortunate incident of this morning, for it has cleared the air like nothing else. And it hasn't just removed that shade of distrust he still felt towards Manners, no matter how much he liked him, it has also done wonders for Bingley and Jane. For they had indeed fallen out over what happened, the men had never told Jane about the hour Manners spent with Miss Bingley, telling her about Grenfell's misdeeds and personal weaknesses. She still thought they were going to lure Caroline into a doomed marriage unknowingly. Of course most of them still think the others are deluding themselves over the chance for happiness such a marriage entails, but frankly that is none of their business. If Miss Bingley wants to marry a rapist, as Georgie summed up so bluntly, she's welcome to him.

And Elizabeth described how Bingley and Jane fell into each other's arms, kissed and made up. Even the description was enough to put tears in his eyes, but that may have been because seeing Elizabeth totally distraught that morning tore him up inside, and it will take some time to blot that image out of his mind.

But now they're on their way to an obscure little hall with Georgie, Manners and uncle Spencer. Eric left right after lunch, and Fitzwilliam refused, he prefers to go to the officers' club. Maybe Darcy does, too, this will be boring. But Fielding needs his patron to be there, and his future brother-in-law has proven himself again this morning, so Darcy will make himself agreeable for his benefit.

To think that Manners took Fielding to Grenfell's place to entertain his friends. With ladies of sin! It's funny now, but Darcy is certain Fielding must have been shocked at the time, he was even more naïve than Elizabeth despite having gone to school. Well, both of them may exceed Darcy in worldly experience by now, and Darcy is not sorry, he infinitely prefers life in the country.

'You haven't invited me to enjoy a ride behind your thoroughbreds, Darcy,' Manners observes.

'You're not still mad at me, are you?'

His eyes sparkle, he sure got over his fright quickly. Elizabeth is still rather withdrawn, shaken by the morning's events, when a rift between Manners and their family seemed inescapable. Her obvious attachment to Manners is almost enough to make him slightly envious, but jealousy of Manners is truly the limit. Wait a second, that should give Darcy an insight in the nature of his jealousy. Maybe it's not aimed at romantic love, they're married after all, and he knows she loves him. Maybe Darcy is just jealous of her affections towards anyone who may be more interesting than himself. He knows he is a handsome man, and physically attractive to Elizabeth. But he also knows she is highly intelligent, and as easily bored as her father. Suppose he fears she'll get tired of him?

'No, I love you like a brother. I just want to keep my carriage tidy. If you wet yourself in fear, you'll ruin the seats of Elizabeth's beautiful carriage.'

Manners laughs heartily, but he looks hungry, he wants their friendship so badly, Darcy never realised that. He thought Manners merely tolerated them, to be close to Simon. But it seems he truly loves them, enough to plead for forgiveness in a most poignant way.

'Anne seemed to have enjoyed her ride tremendously, Darcy,' his uncle observes.

'Her cheeks were blushing, and she looked so happy, despite having heard those terrible things of her mother. My dear sister won't know what is happening come Saturday, I'm almost looking forward to it.'

'Frankly, uncle, Anne was like that before we left. Blushing, excited. And her night hadn't been particularly quiet either. I guess she thrives on excitement, as she used to when we were children.'

Now why does Manners look like a cat in the cream? Another plot? Well, Darcy will get the truth of it, this is his cousin they're talking about and she is just starting to enjoy life. She is not a pawn for Manners to play with.

'I'm afraid we don't have time to make you weep with fear before we leave tomorrow, Manners. But I think we'll keep the team in town until we move to Pemberley, so there will plenty of time for a nice little ride before that. And then we'll chase the clouds over the hills of Derbyshire, I can't wait to show you the sights. Will you come shooting or fishing for a few weeks, uncle? I've invited Elizabeth's uncle and father, they're great company. Mr Bennet is a real outdoorsman, with even sharper wit than Elizabeth, and his brother-in-law is city born and raised, and very mild and well-informed. We won't have a dull moment.'

'I haven't left home for a long time, Darcy. But this trip was a great start, and I've missed Pemberley. We used to have some good times there, when Alice and Anne and your father were still alive. You know your father's steward and his wife often joined us, and it was less awkward than you might think, in some ways. Of course Catherine didn't approve but we didn't miss her much, she already tended to rule the conversation back then. We often pitied poor Lewis, though he was happy enough with his little daughter. Little Anne was such a doll, and the only girl among the children for years.

You know, I'll see what I can do, you still have Reynolds keeping house, don't you? There'll be at least one familiar face, and someone who remembers Alice.'

'I remember aunt Alice well, uncle. She was so nice, she understood boys so well. She never warned us to be safe, she knew boys had to do some wild and foolish things, like playing with knives and stoking fires. Not that Anne didn't do her share of tomfoolery. She reminded me of her old self this morning, except she is obviously a woman now.'

Elizabeth is enjoying the conversation, and uncle Spencer gives her a significant look as he mentions the steward joining them in the evenings. Maybe they discussed Wickham before, Fitzwilliam and his uncle and the Colonel, that's almost inevitable, since they got him his commission. She does not speak much, though, and uncle Spencer does seem to find that odd and a bit disappointing. Since Bob has the night off to take leave of Fanny's parents, she is coming with them despite the discomfort, they are all sharing Manners' carriage. Well, Elizabeth and Georgie might as well not be there, they're slim and quiet, and while Manners is a large man, uncle Spencer is built on a slimmer scale than aunt Catherine.

The hall is older, smaller and less busy outside than the usual venue where Eric plays. The place is lovely though, it may be an old building but it's perfectly preserved. It seems some kind of academy, with magnificent large hallways clad in aged cream-coloured marble, high ceilings beautifully lighted, and stately doors with intricate carvings. There are many doors, and some of them are open, revealing large spaces like classrooms in a school, but mostly without the furnishings expected in those; no chairs, no tables. These rooms have easels with paintings, carvings in various stages of progress, and all kinds of instruments being played or polished or tuned. Apparently, artists of any kind can rent these rooms to practise with others of the same discipline.

The lecture is to take place in the most beautiful room of the building, a large library with a painted-glass ceiling at least two stories up. The books are displayed in cases from top to bottom, with large wooden ladders to access the top shelves, and a balcony all around the first floor to access the books on that level. And ladders on that floor as well. The librarian is probably in his prime and certainly has no fear of heights.

The middle space is large, the floor is plain wood dark with age. There are seats lined up, no more than forty is his guess, facing a raised floor with a beautiful piano and an elaborately carved lectern.

Eric is playing for a very select audience of six members of the music club, to kill time, for it's not Renaissance music at all. It's the latest addition to his own work, and it sounds just perfect in this rather unexpected place. Darcy would expect a library to be totally unsuitable for a recitation, but of course Mr Goodfellow is a connoisseur, he would not hire a place riddled with echoes.

The introductions take a very long time, but it is very interesting to finally meet the people who have made Fielding come to life musically. Elizabeth is her usual charming self, and only those who love her will notice her heart is not truly in it, she's still upset over their near falling out with Manners this morning.

It's a treat to see Fielding with people who don't admire him mindlessly, but who value his talent and expand his mind. They're not as adverse to young ladies as Fielding seemed to think, chatting with Georgiana with eagerness. She is looking her best tonight, Darcy can't help noticing with some brotherly pride. When they take their places, Elizabeth is back at his side, and Manners begs her to be allowed to sit on her other side. She takes his hand and squeezes it familiarly.

'Of course you may, Frederick. As long as you don't expect me to say anything sensible about Renaissance music, and promise to kick me if I fall asleep.'

He bows and smiles whimsically. 'I promise.'

Good, he feels it. That means Darcy won't have to rub it in. Poor Elizabeth. And he can't sympathise with her, for then she'd surely cry and she would hate showing weakness in public. Fortunately, the audience is arriving and they can watch people going by. It's a distinctive advantage to have Manners close for he knows absolutely everyone, and has an anecdote or interesting fact to relate besides. As the seats fill up, Manners starts to look positively gleeful, Mr Goodfellow may be a scruffy little commoner, but his audience most certainly isn't. Darcy's uncle is spotted by several other men of his age, and acquaintances are renewed with broad smiles and hearty slaps on backs and knees as they chat as lively as Anne's friends.

Darcy sees two ladies whom he knows he should recognise, accompanied by a distinguished gentleman who looks positively ancient. He is pointed towards a single easy chair, though the chairs aren't bad at all in this library. Ancient, but comfortable.

'Aren't those the Queen's ladies, Frederick?' Elizabeth asks. That's it, he should have known, they were introduced!

'Yes, they are, and the old fellow is the chancellor. How does Goodfellow do it? I'll introduce you later, I know him. If Goodfellow doesn't send them all to sleep this will be a triumph without compare for Fielding. Even if he does, they'll thank Fielding for waking them up with some music! I can sense a Royal audience taking shape for our dear friend.'

Then the lecture starts. Mr Goodfellow has a fine, strong voice, and he is an excellent speaker. But he knows so many facts about early Renaissance music, and late Renaissance music, that Darcy's head soon starts to spin with dates and Italian terms and sources. Then it's Fielding's turn, and he quickly captivates this audience with the music Darcy has heard him play for weeks now. He plays ten minutes, and after the applause he explains the difference between a modern piano and its equivalent in those days, then relates how he has adapted the music. His voice is as clearly accented and as sophisticated as Mr Goodfellow's.

Fielding steps down and the lecture continues, more facts, more dates, more terms, and then, more Fielding. He plays for another half hour, Mr Goodfellow introducing each separate piece. Then Darcy can see two men walking in from the back of the library, carrying a harpsichord. They place it on the dais, opposite the piano. But Fielding doesn't take his place at the little instrument, he remains exactly where he is, as Mr Goodfellow introduces his special guest of the night, Miss Georgiana Darcy. Georgie? She is going to play in public? In front of the Queen's ladies-in-waiting and a chancellor? And every music adept in London? Talk about ambition.

She doesn't seem nervous at all, and slowly glides towards the little dais. As she sits down at the keyboard of the harpsichord, Darcy realises the two pianists face each other. They smile with infatuation, and Georgie's smile seems real, not pure nerves. No wonder she was quiet in the carriage!

With iron self control, she plays a variegated scale, always good for few open mouthed stares, and then she speaks! She speaks in public, with a clear and articulated voice.

'Of course harpsichord and modern pianoforte have never been heard together, not in the Renaissance. But musicians often played harmonies on two harpsichords, and we are going to try to reconstruct what that may have sounded like. Whereas all the other pieces played tonight were originals, carefully reconstructed from old music sheets by Mr Fielding, this piece was written by him in the Renaissance style. Please enjoy!'

She starts with the intro, Darcy can't believe she is so cool about it, his little sister, who used to be called haughty because she was afraid to speak. Then Fielding joins in and thinking is no longer possible. There is only music, incredibly complicated, but that seems mostly his part, the harpsichord forms a sweet central theme around which the blusterous piano winds its fuller melody. It's very clearly the male, trying to impress his dainty beloved.

Darcy recognises the melody, they have been practising this on the two instruments, but separately.

And then Fielding crushes the audience by raising his voice in song, in a language Darcy does not know, but guesses is Italian by the sound of it. He should sing more often, it's hard to imagine he chose the piano over his magnificent voice.

By the time Georgiana starts her counterpoint in her still-girlish voice, nobody has any surprise left in them. They all merely relish this unique experience, the performers' love made tangible, the depth of it enough to cause a twinge of envy in all those who are not so lucky as to have found their true love. Then it's over, and a deep silence falls.

'Mr Fielding and Miss Darcy!' Mr Goodfellow exclaims in a thick voice.

The applause is deafening.

After the concert Darcy's real work starts. He talks to everyone and anyone, Manners supplying him with names and ranks, he was right, this has made Fielding's name among those who matter. Mr Goodfellow's ability to reach people of rank is amazing. Worrying about Elizabeth, he notices with relief that uncle Spencer has taken her under his wing, introducing her to his acquaintance, and also, engaging her in a little head-to-head in the middle of the seating area. Her former beaten attitude is gone, she is all ears over what his uncle is telling her. He feels his jealousy stirring, but his mind can now reason that an old man is no competition for him, this must be some other feeling, though as contemptible and weak as jealousy. But there is no time to dwell on it, for now Manners is greeting Lady Harrington as familiarly as he did before.

'I do prefer you in your usual attire, Frederick, those muted colours somehow fit your physique much better than bright ones. You are smart and serious, and we love you for it.'

'Thank you, Jane, I'm glad we agree on the subject of colours. I hate wearing them. How did you like the evening's entertainment?'

'I cried like a baby, Frederick. That man has the voice of an angel, and Miss Darcy is an angel. Though I didn't understand a word of what they sang, I was brought back instantly to the time when I was still so much in love myself. Oh, to be young and convinced there is but one true love.'

The chancellor and the other lady, dressed in blue once again, are talking to Fielding and Georgie, and Elizabeth is still with uncle Spencer, but talking to Mr Goodfellow by now. People are already leaving in small groups, another half hour and they will be ready to leave as well.

In the carriage, Darcy asks Elizabeth curiously, 'What was uncle Spencer telling you just now, Elizabeth?'

She smiles fondly, and replies, 'He told me about the shocking things he had done as a student, love. They were quite bad. I'm quite sure you never did anything like that, fortunately.'

Her low mood seems to have miraculously improved, making Darcy very happy, and eager to be home.

Having heard about the turnabout in the servants' quarters of the Blackwood mansion, Maria and Leonora are eager to accept an invitation for a sleepover with their friends. The new butler is a temporary help, elderly and kind, and Sophie and Angelina discover their friends didn't want to come over anymore because their maids were afraid to stay anywhere near Wellesley. Besides, the twins expect the offending butler to be hauled in any day now, in chains, to be sued by Mr Blackwood for molesting their favourite servant. They hope he will hang for it, but deportation to His Majesty's penal colony will be fine, too. Imagine the excitement that will bring, their friends are eager to partake in that joy, even if going out would be more fun. Still, Sophie and Angelina refuse to leave the house without Nick, and the other girls' parents aren't as eager to let them go either, without the sturdy Blackwood retainer leading the expedition.

Anne loves being part of this little group, even without brothers and cousins they play and sing very pleasantly and dance with each other, teaching Anne new steps, also explaining the signals the young people use to let one another know they are interested in dancing together. Or other things. This last said with plenty of giggles. She supposes they mean kissing. The scheme to visit the army camp is greeted with enthusiasm, and Anne describes the mad ride with Mr Darcy's thoroughbreds for the third time.

With great pleasure Anne offers to sleep in her own room so the girls can share the one large bedroom, resolved to wait until the girls are done chatting before she joins Nick in his tiny servant's cubicle. But girls can chat for a very long time, and by the time the happy sounds from their room cease, Anne has succumbed to fatigue and is fast asleep.

To be awoken once again by a very meek, delirious ghost-like shape in a strange-looking gown.

'I waited for hours, Miss, but you never came.'

Still sleepy, she feels awful, she must have dozed off while waiting for the girls to quiet down next door.

'I'm so sorry, Nick, those girls wouldn't go to sleep, I didn't dare go downstairs, and then you woke me. Shall I come with you now, or do you want to stay here?'

'Don't think I can make it downstairs right now, Miss. I took a pill just now and it's hit me hard, I feel a bit dizzy. Can I please stay? I felt so bad, I thought you were angry because I said some improper things and called you by your first name. I just couldn't sleep.'

'Take off your shirt, I want to feel your naked skin against mine.'

She has already taken off her own nightgown.

'Can't do it, Miss, my fingers don't work right, I'm clumsy.'

'Never mind, I'll do it. Just sit down on the bed.'

He is positively sweaty and he trembles. That doesn't seem right, maybe those pills are as good for him as bloodletting was for Anne. She pulls the shirt over his head without opening the buttons, and takes him in her arms, covering both of them with the blanket. Oh, this must be sinful because it's so good. The feel of him, and the smell of him. This time he takes one of her nipples in his mouth and sucks on it. A flash of heat feels like lightning striking, centred right between her legs, where the strength flows out of her each month.

His trembling recedes, and he sighs deeply and nestles against her side, still holding her breast with his mouth. He releases it only to take the other one, causing another lightning strike, and a moan escapes her lips. Suddenly he tenses.

'Oh thank God, you've saved my life again, Miss.'

As he kisses her, she suddenly understands what he means. Down there, very close to where her own heat still makes itself felt, she can feel something pressing against her thigh. Something that wasn't there yesterday, or moments ago. No-one has ever told her about the things that happen between a man and a woman, but they must be lodged in her brain somewhere, for she instantly understands this is his manhood come back to life, his biggest fear averted. The sinfulness of being here with him has just increased manifold. But that doesn't concern Nick, of course. His relief is tangible, his meekness vanishes though his delirium may still be there. He rubs himself against her in blunt disregard of his horrible bruising down there, and strokes her naked skin with intense ardour. They kiss, and that kiss cannot be compared to those of yesterday, this is the man unleashed, the ardent lover. This is the moment that Anne will lose her virginity in the deepest shame.

He is in control now, he is strong despite his injuries, and so very passionate. But he doesn't just rule her, he also rules his lust, for as she stiffens with fear and shame he releases her altogether.

'I'm sorry, Miss. That is not how it should be done, my ardour got away with me but it's back under my control. Please forgive me for scaring you. I will not do anything you don't want me to. Men are in a constant battle to control their urges, and the pills and my joy overcame mine for a second there. It will not happen again. Now, may I lie against you as I did yesterday and stroke you a tiny bit? I can't make it lie down, but it will not touch you otherwise, I swear.'

Crisis over, Anne has to admit that feeling his primordial strength did make the heat inside her burn even stronger. Apparently something inside her likes being overcome. It's just the shame that holds her back.

'You may touch me anywhere, Nick, I trust you.'

'I will not betray your trust, Miss. Here, doesn't this feel good?'

And his hand traces circles on her belly and her thighs, making her shiver with pleasure. He strokes her everywhere, and encourages her to stroke him, too.

'Just be gentle, Miss, then it can't hurt me.'

She does, and he shivers as she did before, apparently this is good no matter how often one has done it before. They stroke each other tenderly, and his manhood still touches her but does nothing else.

Then they kiss, and the heat inside her becomes almost unbearable.

'There's a heat inside me, Nick,' she observes, 'and it's getting painful.'

She can feel him nod, and his voice, now calm and almost hypnotic, says, 'It's your body wanting to couple. It doesn't care about decency and society and all. It knows what it wants.'

He kisses her, gently now, his ardour seems to have cooled down a lot.

'I can't help you with it, Miss, not until you accept the shame. If I coupled with you before you can accept the idea of making love to a man you're not married to, you'll come to hate me. Besides, I'm in no shape to couple. But I can let you feel what it would be like, if you want to. Just a tiny bit.'

Anne loves him more than ever, but indeed she is not ready to let him take her virginity. She'd die of shame. But it's so good to have the self-assured Nick back.

'Will you, please?'

They both keep stroking, and the burning feeling flares up again. Nick strokes her legs now, and his hand slowly moves towards the most private parts, gently massaging certain sensitive bits that give her flashes of heat and more burning. Then one of his fingers slides inside her, and indeed touches the burn. It's incredibly good, and she knows his manhood will feel even better. But he stops touching her there, and moves his hand back up to stroke less intimate places.

'Tomorrow I will stop taking those pills, Miss, I don't like losing myself. I cannot tell you how much it means to me to have you in my arms like this. I must admit, Miss, I've never made love to a virgin lady before. Never even to an unmarried lady. I have no idea how to do that, and whether I should. Maybe we'd better stick to a bit of cuddling, it's nice too, isn't it?'

It is.

Well before they are ready to go to sleep, Nick feels able to tackle the stairs, and they move to his little room in total silence, wearing their night clothes. Once there, she removes them and they lie in his narrow cot together, limbs entwined. Nothing has ever felt better than to lie on his chest, in his arms, hearing his heartbeat and smelling his already-familiar scent.

After exchanging some more caresses they fall into a deep sleep, to indeed be woken up by the crowing of a cock in the backyard. It's still dark and the house is quiet, and Anne puts her nightgown back on, kisses Nick one last time, then sneaks back to her own room and her own bed. It's easy to go back to sleep, her clock says it's five, plenty of time before daybreak. Her dreams are sweet, but when she awakes at dawn, the first thing she tells herself is: he will not be claimed. He likes ladies. In plural.

Still she visits him before breakfast, finding him in some pain but back to his confident self.

'Good morning, Miss, I hope you slept well. I certainly did, I feel much better.'

'You look like you're in pain, Nick. And you still have a high colour, but no penny-sized pupils.'

'True, Miss. I didn't take the pills, they make me feel strange, I prefer to be in control of my own actions. And I'm not going to risk my you know what. Excuse me for the image, you understand, I'd rather be in pain.'

'A lot of pain?'

'Not too bad, Miss, I think I can accompany you on your walk tomorrow. Everything is still tender, but the stiffness is gone and the wounds are closed. I'll be every shade of black and blue for weeks, though, my eyes too.'

'It's a badge of honour, Nick. Wear them with pride. Why don't you take a normal painkiller then, the powder you had me fetch that first night?'

He looks staggered, and more than a little put out with himself.

'I forgot. The master came by to tell me they've caught Wellesley. There will be a hearing, the girls will have to testify again, Dora too. And myself, of course. I won't have to see him unless I want to, they're keeping him at the courthouse.'

'The young ladies will be disappointed, they were hoping to see him dragged in in manacles, I think. But they'll get their excitement yet, going to court and being interviewed. I'm going to get you that powder, and then I want to hear what it feels like for you, to have him caught. Do you want him hanged?'

The cook is pleased to give her the powder, 'You're such a caring young lady, Miss de Bourgh. Few would have spent so much time on a mere retainer, your presence has been such a comfort to poor Nick. Look, Miss, this vat is the water for cooking, don't drink that, it can make you sick. And this glass container holds the water for drinking, it's been boiled and strained. Please pour it out, dipping in a cup can soil it again. Thank you, Miss, I forgot all about the powder in this morning's upheaval, Nick will be so relieved, he didn't want to take those pills and I don't blame him, they muddle the mind. But he was in more pain than he wanted to admit, especially to a pretty young lady like yourself. He has an eye for beauty, our Nick has, and despite his looks, they like him, too.'

Yes, yes, she knows, and he cannot be claimed. She'll be out of this house as soon as he is back to work.

He's really feeling better, he does not look or sound meek anymore, though he does stroke her face as she hands him the powder and the cup of water and asks for a kiss. She wants to kiss him, so she does. It's good, and she no longer feels ashamed to kiss a man. She wants him to hold her, but she does not want to seem too eager, it would be demeaning now he's no longer begging her for her affection.

So she asks him again whether he wants Wellesley to hang, and he replies with a steady, 'No, of course not. I just want him to leave me alone. But it's out of my hands now. I will testify against him, but I will not watch the trial, I do not want him to suffer too much. I could have beaten the stuffing out of him, I just didn't because I didn't want to risk being punished. I feel sorry for him.'

Well, he may be a ladies' man, at least he has a heart.

When she gets up to leave for breakfast, he looks at her with hurt in his eyes.

'Don't you want to hold me anymore? Are you mad about last night? It was the pills, Miss, I promise you I'm in control now, it will not happen again.'

Strangely, she wants him to be less in control, and more loving. But she does want him to hold her, so she enters the outstretched arms and relishes his touch and his scent as if it's the last time. Each time can be the last time he holds her, but Anne vows it will not be the last time she is held by a man. The world is full of men, and most of them like ladies.

He nuzzles her throat and licks behind one ear, causing her to feel that burn again. But then he presses her against his chest tenderly, and strokes her hair and her face. His kisses are small and loving, not heated. Anne does not understand at all, it almost seems as is he feels love for her. But then he routinely checks her hair and her collar for signs of jumbling, and she walks towards the breakfast parlour in total confusion.

But Anne may be young and inexperienced, her improved health has given her back her will, and she finds it as strong as Nick's self control. She will not have her heart broken, she is using Nick to experience physical loving for the first time. She will conquer her shame, and take the plunge, and then she will discover the world he has laid open for her. By the time she is back in company, the confusion is replaced with determination. She will enjoy what Nick has to offer, and then she will move on just as much as he will.

'Anne, you'll never guess what happened!' Angelina calls out as soon as she enters. 'They caught him, they caught Wellesley. We're going to testify, and then he's going to hang.'

'Well, now, Angelina my dear, isn't that a bit bloodthirsty for a young lady like yourself?'

Is that Mr Blackwood taking notice of something his daughter says? Miracles do happen.

'But you said so yourself, papa, you said he had to hang.'

'But Nick doesn't think so. I asked him, and he said losing his job and his status was enough punishment for Wellesley. I'm going for everything he owns, too, to compensate Nick for what he is suffering. Still, death is a harsh punishment for a moment of anger, my dear.'

Angelina is not convinced, but it's not in her hands either.

'Did you manage to find a new guard, Mr Blackwood?' Anne asks.

'Alas, no, none were suitable. We've been spoiled by having a man like Nick. Didn't you offer to ask your cousin, a Colonel?'

'I did, but unfortunately he is expected back at the camp soon, I cannot ask him to sacrifice his last free evenings. I'm sorry if you miss out on concerts.'

'Never mind, Miss de Bourgh, never mind. I'll take you girls over myself. I've a mind to hear this Fielding play, since the girls are senseless about him. Though I suppose that's mostly his looks?'

'He is very handsome, sir,' Anne replies, her host is starting to become a real father!

'But he is a superb pianist as well. And his own composition made me cry two nights ago. I was not the only one in tears, people love his music.'

The old butler comes in and announces, 'Mr Manners to see Miss de Bourgh.'

Anne is startled, Mr Manners, again? What for?

He bows to Mr Blackwood and Mrs Blackwood, then addresses the girls, 'You missed a great concert last night, Miss Angelina, Miss Sophie. Mr Fielding sang for his audience, and Miss Darcy played a duet with him. Unfortunately, the lecture was a lot longer than the concert and supremely boring, though the rest of the audience loved it.'

'They've caught him, Mr Manners! They caught Wellesley, who tried to murder Nick!' Angelina is first to see the opportunity. But Sophie will not be outdone this time, 'And we are going to testify. In the courthouse.'

'That is good, I heard your servant was badly injured. I hope he is on the mend?'

he addresses the master of the house, but his eyes are on Anne most of the time. Somehow he knows. Nick may think he is a master of deception with his secret liaisons, but compared to Mr Manners' subtlety Nick is a babe in arms.

'He is improving daily, Mr Manners, he tells me he will be back on the job by Saturday, but I find that hard to believe. I can't find a replacement that suits the girls, that's the disadvantage of having the perfect man for the job.'

'So we'll have to do without you at the concerts tonight and Friday?'

'No, can't have the girls miss out on their outings. I'll go myself if I can't find someone by then.'

'What would you say if I accompanied the girls to the concerts, sir? I'm going anyway, and Miss Darcy has Mr and Mrs Gardiner to accompany her. Just until your man is back to work, or until you've found a replacement. You can send me a message if you want to accept my offer.

Now, Miss de Bourgh, I've come here on impulse because I thought you might want to send off your cousin Mr Darcy, since he is going away for several weeks. If you do, I'm afraid you will have to come with me straight away, or we'll miss them. Those horses are so fast, there will be no lingering for them.'

Actually, she wants to. And he wants to talk about something, probably catch up on the news. Or maybe he wants to warn her against sleeping with a servant. Or falling hopelessly in love with a servant.

'I'd love to. I'll just need my coat and I'll be ready to leave.'

'But you haven't eaten anything yet, Miss de Bourgh.' Mr Blackwood bends over the table and wraps a couple of her favourite pastries in a napkin. 'Here, take these with you. Can't have you fainting at your cousin's send-off.'

'Thank you, sir. I'll be back before lunch. I guess?'

'That should be no problem,' says Mr Manners.

In the carriage, she tries to eat those pastries slowly, but she is ravenous. Mr Manners watches her eat with pleasure.

'I should offer you one,' she says between bites, 'but I'm not going to. I'm very hungry most of the time, and I won't share.'

'You are a treasure, Miss de Bourgh. I'm not going to beat about the bush, Miss, you knew all the time I was not really coming to fetch you for Darcy's departure, though we are certainly going to wave at them flashing by. I have enjoyed our, shall we call it joint venture, tremendously, Miss Anne. You have a sharp mind and you don't frighten easily. And you know when to keep silent and when to talk. You still show your feelings a bit too clearly on your face, but that can be trained. In short, I like you. I don't love you, and I never will, but I have a feeling you're not looking for undying love either.'

He offers her a moment to comment, but she's stunned. Is he planning to do what she thinks he is planning to do? She manages to say, 'I'm not,' but it sounds decidedly squeaky.

'I think we are a great match in characters, and I would like to ask you to consider a proposal. You don't have to decide for ever so long yet, but nonetheless I want to propose a marriage. To unite our families and estates for the eyes of the world, and gain respectability, but to leave each other free to pursue other interests. Discreetly, of course, thus the need to be silent. We'd seek out society, play the game of intrigue, and find love where we want it. What do you say, are you willing to consider this? If you move in with Darcy, we can get to know one another really well, and see whether we are in fact compatible.'

Anne's heart surges, this is just perfect, she can decide at her leisure, but she need never fear to become a burden on anyone.

'Yes, Mr Manners, I will consider your offer seriously. And I will move to Darcy's place when I have finished a certain business at the Blackwoods' residence.'

'You want to discover love at the hands of a sturdy retainer, who is even now awaiting your return in a haze of drugged pain?'

'You are astute, Mr Manners,..'

He interrupts her. 'If we're considering an engagement, you should call me Frederick. Or at least Manners.'

'Frederick in private, and Manners in public. Will you do the same for me? We need to keep them in suspense if we want to make the most of this. But you are right, Frederick, I'm waiting for Nick to get better before I can leave him. Whether we make love depends on me. I am still fighting the shame and I don't know whether I'll manage to conquer it.'

'You will need to, to be married to me. You will not find physical love with me. Not because I find you repulsive, you are a very beautiful young lady, and as yet few realise how much more beautiful you will yet become. Every head will turn when we enter a room.'

'You cannot love me because you are in love with Simon. A man. A servant. Which is why you do not mind my planning to bed Nick. For you I will conquer my shame, Frederick, I admire you.'

He is not in shock, but it's hard to acknowledge nonetheless. Slowly, a sly smile wins over his original seriousness.

'And you are even more astute than I. I admire you, but I also need to ask you: do you know what happens if anyone finds out?'

'You will be shunned or worse. And the game is over for both of us.'

'How did you find out?'

She tells him how the pieces of the puzzle were all there, but unconnected, his being single, his travel plans with Simon, his using him as spy, his tolerance of liking servants. Until she remembered the admiring look he sent her way, while Simon was standing right next to her, helping her find accessories. The love in that look, so deep.

'I would have dismissed the very thought of a man loving a man, had you not made a flippant comment on Nick's hair. Even then, I wouldn't have believed it possible. And then Dora repeated a piece of gossip, dismissed it as vile trash-talking by a first maid from Darcy's household reduced to washing woman because of bullying. She accused Simon of loving men. That is when I knew. I thought you were setting me up to find out, giving clues and hints. I'm actually very proud of myself to know you did no such thing. But it is sobering to know how tiny things can give you away. I will not breathe a hint of this to anyone, I'll tell my lovers you are a ladies' man but very discrete. But you will have to be even more careful, I can understand why you are planning a trip to the continent. If we get married, will you leave me behind? Can you do that, for the public eye I mean? Does Simon know you're planning to get married?'

'We'll use our time well, Anne, and find a solution for everything. Travellers can take liberties because they move around, and Simon knows I'll probably have to marry, but not that I am proposing to you. I hope you won't mind getting to know him better, even though he is a servant. Rank is just an accident of birth, you know, he is a better man than I am. Handsomer, too. Which is why I like your Nick, he looks like me a few years ago.'

'I don't expect to settle with him, Frederick. He told me before he kissed me for the first time that he cannot be claimed, that he spreads his love around. I'm not going to fall for him, it'll only get my heart broken.'

'He did not look at you like that. But be careful by all means. It'll be hard enough to put shame aside, dear Anne, believe me, I know. Thank you, Anne, for considering me.'

'The pleasure is all mine, Frederick. I've had my sights on you since the day we met. You're my ideal of a husband, kind, protective, excellent dancer, not too possessive or too dependent. Perfect.'


	88. Chapter 88

Chapter 98

Frederick's carriage stops in front of Darcy's house, where the thoroughbreds are already chafing at the bit. Brave Bob's on the box, with a very pretty girl. Elizabeth's maid? Poor thing, to be sitting there in the cold, except she seems rather pleased. And proud. Yes, proud.

'Is that beauty in love with the homely driver?' she asks her companion, possibly fiancée. He grins.

'You've never even seen her before, have you?'

'No, but she's proud to be freezing to death up there in the cold. And he is reputed to be the best driver in town, no, in the country. He is about to prove it to her, with everyone gaping at those magnificent horses, not even his master can control them but he can, her man can.'

'I wish I could go and tell Simon right now, he'll be impressed. He's not going along with them, they want to be alone. Oh, by the way, they know, Darcy and Elizabeth, Georgiana and Eric. No-one else does. I'm not going to tell them about you until you've decided. Just Simon, I owe him that, he has to approve, of course. With the master and mistress away, we'll sit in Eric's apartment a lot, Simon agrees to join us there whilst he refuses to sit in the drawing-room. It's painful sometimes, but of course you understand, at least a little.'

Anne does. They have reached the carriage, Darcy and Elizabeth are surprised to see her but pleased.

'You've come to see us off, that's so kind!' Darcy says heartily. 'If you're a good girl while we're away, we'll bring you a present. What would you like, a fancy silver spoon to stir your coffee with?'

'Sure,' Anne replies cheekily, 'but how will you know whether I've been good?'

'We'll ask Manners,' Darcy retorts, kissing both her cheeks.

Anne shrugs like a teenager. 'Suits me. Bye now, enjoy yourselves! Do nothing you wouldn't do at home!'

Elizabeth kisses her, too. 'I'm afraid Frederick is already planning some bad things for you to do. Look at him!'

He does look like a cat in the cream. Which only proves Elizabeth is as astute as Anne is, no surprise there. It'll be fun to really get to know her, in three weeks' time.

Georgiana and Mr Fielding come running to say goodbye, the household is represented by the housekeeper, the butler and yes, handsome Simon. Anne hopes he will find her acceptable, maybe they can become friends. Nick likes him. Anne imagines Nick stroking her and feels herself blush. That will not do, even if Simon approves of her she will still need to overcome the shame. She wants to see Nick, but they'll undoubtedly ask her inside. Goodbyes said, Brave Bob sets the horses in motion and they all wave. Even in town those horses are incredibly fast. When the carriage is out of sight, Georgiana whoops and falls on Anne's neck.

'Freedom! Let's have coffee in the boudoir, with the sweetest, creamiest pie we have in the house. You coming, Anne?'

She seems to be developing a sweet tooth, so she nods eagerly and replies, 'I'm in. I don't know what a boudoir is, but I'm hungry.' Nick is probably sleeping, and if not, he'll be extra pleased to see her just before lunch, or maybe later.

'What's up with your cousin, Fitzwilliam?' Elizabeth cannot help but ask her beloved. Such a change in so little time, it's almost unnatural. A week ago Anne was still shy and half in love with Fitzwilliam, and now she's pert towards him, and if Elizabeth is any judge of character, romantically indifferent.

'She's too lively, you know, and Frederick has that look, the conniving one. I still don't trust him altogether, a cat doesn't change his colours overnight, though I'm convinced he thinks he is making a serious effort.'

'Maybe she is in love,' Fitzwilliam offers. 'The flushed cheeks, the excitement?'

'Not with Frederick she isn't.' Elizabeth is sure Anne is not in love with him, but those two do share some secret.

'Mr Blackwood only has those two girls. It cannot be in his house.'

'It has to be in his house. It's certainly not in your uncle's, and she's treating you like a cousin she is particularly fond of, she's not in love with you anymore. She was very concerned about that Blackwood retainer. Maybe she is in love with him.'

'Lady Catherine's daughter in love with a servant? Pigs will fly, Elizabeth.'

'Your argument is invalid, sir, for after what happened at Rosings, that girl will do her very best to give her mother the worst case of apoplexy ever seen in the history of womankind.'

'I concede. But Anne's too smart to fall in love to spite her mother. She must truly like him, then. It's of no concern to us anyway, she's an adult, and we're on a mission of compassion. Freedom, my love, finally! What shall we do first?'

'What can we do in a carriage by ourselves? I can think of just one thing, my love, besides looking out of the window. And I am fed up with the sight of the city for now, I yearn for grass and trees.'

'We did have great fun in a haystack, not something you'd expect living in town. There'll be just a few weeks left when we return from Newcastle, and they will be very busy, with Georgie's wedding and everything. Before you know it we'll be rambling in our own forest, and riding through our own valleys. I can't wait, Elizabeth.'

'Let's make the time go quicker then.'

Which they do, totally ignoring the fact that they are still in London. But there is little traffic at this time of the day and Bob is keeping the thoroughbreds moving at a brisk trot, reducing the chance of anyone peeking through the curtained windows to virtually zero.

The boudoir is the most beautiful place Anne has ever seen in her life. Treasures from all over the world, and the cream of decades of hoarding expensive decorations gathered in one room.

'Georgiana! I love it! I can't wait to come live with you, this is so beautiful! Can I sit here sometimes? Look at the horse! And no stiff furniture or tables, just pillows and cushions, how did you come up with it?'

As her cousin tells her how the room grew from an expedition to find a harpsichord, Simon comes in to bring coffee and what looks like an awfully sweet concoction. He sets the things down and makes ready to leave, but Georgiana stops her story to ask, 'Won't you stay and drink coffee with us, Simon?'

The handsome servant gives one meaningful look in Anne's direction, and Georgiana sighs. Frederick clears his throat and says, almost formally, 'Simon, and you too, Eric and Georgiana, you are in the presence of the smartest person alive. Anne here deduced without any outside help that Simon and I are together. It's no use keeping her in the dark, she knows, so you might as well stay, Simon. I'll fetch you a cup and a plate. We'll share the pie, I'm getting fat anyway.'

And he is off, leaving Anne alone with three people staring at her. Surprisingly, Simon is the first to recover.

'That is amazing, Miss de Bourgh. How did you do that? We never even look at each other in public, which includes this house.'

She describes that one admiring look, and the different pieces of the puzzle falling into place.

'I didn't even know it was possible.'

'I'd say Frederick has been careless, but each bit of information was so vague, he really wasn't. Are you a genius or are we in big trouble?'

'Not from me, your secret is safe of course. But I don't know whether someone else might put one and one together. Frederick seems to think it's unlikely. I'd advise being more careful anyway, but I can't think how.'

'Well then, Miss de Bourgh, welcome to the family,' Mr Fielding offers. 'It'll make things easier when you move in. Less need for sneaking around for Simon and Frederick. We'll find a way to make use of your cleverness, that's the power of this household. Word is out that Frederick is already teaching you how to spy, Simon will teach you housekeeping, I will teach you German.'

'And will you teach me to play the piano, Georgiana?' Anne feels so much at home here, surrounded by young people, who are so connected, and so. … alive.

'It will be my pleasure, Anne. I can't wait to find out how your mind works, I just cannot believe you put those things together.'

Frederick is back, and he adds, 'It took her less than a minute to deduce that Bob and Fanny are a couple. She had never seen Fanny before.'

'She was so proud of him, a stunning girl with a very plain fellow. It just fell into place.'

'When will you move in, Anne?' Georgiana asks.

'I'm not sure. There is something I have to do at the Blackwood mansion, someone I have to see back to health. When that is done, I'm packing my bags. I can't wait now, you're all so nice!'

The coffee is excellent, and the pie is delicious. Anne's dislike of sweet things is officially a thing of the past. They chat for an hour, and then Anne feels the need to go back and see Nick.

'I promised to be back before lunch. We'll meet at your concerts, Mr Fielding, despite their retainer having been seriously hurt by their own butler, the girls don't want to miss any of your concerts. Thank you so much for your reception.'

They all hug her, even Mr Fielding, and Simon shakes her hand respectfully but not unkindly. Anne leaves with some very warm feelings, and a lot of hope for the future. With such friends, even heartbreak must be easy to bear.

When their visitor has left with Frederick, and Simon is taking the remains of their feast to the kitchen, Georgiana and Eric move to the drawing-room, to put in some practice, Georgiana supposes, it's what they always do and it never gets boring. After their triumph yesterday, and all the important people they talked to, it's both refreshing and a bit commonplace to be back home and pick up their studies.

'Do you always have such a mixture of feelings after a concert you've worked towards for weeks?' she asks her beloved.

'Every night, though the intensity varies. Yesterday was special, then the feeling lingers for days. Usually it fades after a few hours. But your first concert is a special occasion, Georgiana, and this one was especially nerve-racking since it was for the most critical audience ever. I did tell you how proud I am, didn't I? I keep forgetting because of all the famous and important people I'm trying to keep sorted out in my mind, for future reference.'

'Frederick will do that for you my love. And yes, you did, about once every hour from the moment we got off the stage until now.'

'Good. I wouldn't want you to think I didn't find you the most talented, most beautiful, and most beloved pianist ever. But Manners may not always be there for us, my love, we need to learn to deal with all people and every conceivable situation ourselves. I can't believe how close we got to losing him. You were such a good diplomat, putting things to rights between him and your brother and Elizabeth with blunt impertinence. Or maybe the reverse, impertinent bluntness. I'm convinced you saved the day, it would have broken my heart to see two very undeserving strangers come between the people I love best after you.'

Georgiana still shivers to think of life without Frederick. Simon torn in two, unable to follow his heart, Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth sadly disappointed in someone they have come to love. And Eric, he owes Frederick so much, and the four of them, Simon included, have become so close.

'Imagine Anne finding them out just like that, Eric,' she observes, not at all averse to changing the subject slightly. Somehow the thought of losing Frederick's friendship is a very sore spot, and not just for her. She's very certain Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam will spend at least half their time on the road coming to terms with what happened.

'There is a lot more to your cousin than I ever imagined,' Eric replies, thoughtfully. 'She was half asleep when I first met her, and now I don't think I know anyone more alive than she is. There must be quite a story behind that change, my love. I hope that one day she will trust us with it.'

He has not moved straight to the piano, there is something on his mind, he has taken her hand and is now leading her to his favourite chair in the drawing-room, after the piano stool of course. Sitting down in it, he takes her in his lap, expression serious, almost grave.

'There is a story in your life, too, my love, that I would like to hear. Everyone in our circle knows it, except me. I've heard hints, bits and pieces, but I'd like to hear the whole, and I'd like to hear it from you, whom it concerned most of all, with your brother and sister on their way to the main player, the mysterious Mr Wickham. Will you tell me about him, dear Georgiana?'

Well, that's some kind of misunderstanding, as if she doesn't want to talk about it. Wickham doesn't have any kind of power over her anymore, she just never got around to telling Eric, that's all. He must have felt left out not to know, even Frederick knew the whole story from the start, he'd gotten Simon to tell him, falling in love with him just before, during, or shortly after.

'Sure,' she replies, 'I would have earlier, my love, it just never came up.'

'It's not painful to you?' Her poor man is surprised, and gets more than a few kisses because it makes him look very cute.

'Not by far, my love. I got over him rather quickly once I found out he was a hopeless loser. I was relieved when Fitzwilliam neatly tied him to an adoring empty-headed admirer, though, generations of innocent girls saved without interference from their brothers.'

Since they'll be sitting here for some time anyway, and everyone is out, she can just as easily put her hand inside his shirt as not. She likes seeing her beloved fired up, he's usually so composed, even when confronted with his adored Elizabeth in tears. If Georgiana were at all like Fitzwilliam she'd be jealous, in fact she wonders why Fitzwilliam is so obviously jealous of his cousin and Wickham when a very handsome and talented admirer of his wife lives right under his very roof. But Georgiana is not inclined to view such adulation with envy, isn't Eric himself the subject of plenty of it and totally unaffected? He is hers, and whenever she touches his bare skin he shivers with ardour. They'll have such a grand time once they're married.

'Oh, Georgie my love, please have mercy on me! I can't listen to your story while playing scales, and if you don't relent that is exactly what I will have to do.'

All right, she didn't get that at all. Better look at him in a certain way.

'My love,' he groans, 'if you touch me like that my ardour jumps to life with a vengeance. It's very strong and very insistent, I'm a grown man with strong urges. Playing scales calms me down, I do it often, and less frequently for practice since our engagement.'

'Eric, you should have told me! I've been torturing you without realising it! I thought you looked nice and wild when I did that. And it feels nice. But not if you suffer for it!'

'Never mind, love, I should have told you, but it does feel very good, you know. I don't want you to stop, it's just that sometimes it takes hours to wind down again. Maybe you can do it when we're going to busy afterwards? Like before a concert?'

'I'll test you later, find out exactly how far I can take it without disturbing your peace of mind. But first, George Wickham.'

Instead of stroking him underneath his shirt, Georgiana settles in Eric's arms and caresses his slightly stubbled cheek and his long black hair.

'He was like a brother to me, not a big, serious brother like Fitzwilliam, whom I admired but also was a bit too much in awe of, but a big, funny, cute brother. Wickham was sweet, caring, and never too busy or too adult to play with me and get into mischief with me. Whenever he was home from school, that is. I never had many playmates, you know, my cousins were all a lot older, and as far as I can remember Fitzwilliam was already spending most of the time he had at home learning to run the estate. He did what he could to be a good brother, but he just didn't have the time to really play with me. The things Anne remembers doing with him, climbing trees and riding a pony bareback, he'd grown out of those by the time I was old enough to do them. But George hadn't, and I loved him for spending time with me.

'It was sisterly love, but it was very strong love, and he was the only young man I ever saw besides my cousins, who didn't have a clue what to do with a little girl except tease her. My father doted on Wickham, I could see that, and when he died Fitzwilliam was even busier getting the estate in order with the new steward, Wickham's father had passed away, too, you know. We more or less comforted each other, Wickham and myself.

In hindsight, I think my governess was under Wickham's spell, she talked of him and praised him often, and I think now that she was very much in love with him and he encouraged her. He was always very nice to her, but he was nice to everybody, I didn't think anything of it. Of course to me she seemed old, besides being a widow, so not in the running for a man my brother's age, but her love for him did kind of change my perspective. He no doubt encouraged that, by this time he had fallen out with Fitzwilliam and his visits always occurred when my brother was not expected where I lived then. Again, I didn't realise this, Fitzwilliam had not told me about their disagreement.

One day I professed Wickham my love for him, and he did tell me a clever version of the truth, carefully edited to make it all seem a big misunderstanding. I agreed to elope with him, he said after we were married the whole thing would be sorted out and we'd be one happy family, but some part of me was ever in doubt: my governess, who was still Wickham's advocate, was showing signs of being hurt with love and I think some part of me started to realise Wickham was manipulating her to get at me.

I didn't know what to do, I was so naïve, but when Fitzwilliam paid me a visit just then I finally recognised his deep love for me, I suppose my warm feelings for Wickham did awaken some new sense inside me, and they helped me see that Fitzwilliam truly loved me, was just too reticent to demonstrate his feelings. I confessed, and my brother took action. I still have no clue what happened to Mrs Younge, I quite liked her, she was very lenient which Mrs Annesley was not.

When she took over I felt very sorry for myself. I missed Wickham, not as a lover, but as a brother torn away. Fitzwilliam did spend a little more time on me, but he was different then, less able to show his feelings. The piano was my only true friend, and we became very intimate.

Mrs Annesley tried to match me with appropriate girls my age, to find some friends to socialise with, but I think I must have some of Fitzwilliam's reticence, for I never managed to relate to any of them. I didn't like my brother's friends either, the Miss Bingley who nearly lost us Frederick is a petty, stuck up sycophant with a mean streak the size of France. She meant to catch my brother and thought her way into his heart was by fawning on him. When he proved her wrong by falling in love with the only woman to ever dare confront him on his arrogance, Miss Bingley merely started to show her meanness more and more, especially towards Miss Elizabeth Bennet, until even Fitzwilliam had to notice. The woman deserves everything she gets from that cold fish Grenfell, Eric, never doubt that. They will make each other miserable, I can only hope there will be no children to suffer with them.'

Georgiana can tell all this business-like and dry-eyed. The only part likely to affect her is the memory of how lonely she used to be. Only when Fitzwilliam was lovesick over Elizabeth and Georgiana confronted him over it, did they find true closeness as siblings. Eric has also notices.

'You are so close, Georgiana, Darcy and yourself. I can't believe you've had such a lonely youth, it must have been so difficult without father or mother. I never knew mine very well, but Mr Zumpe was like a father to me, and I had a mother and a sister in his family.'

'I suppose Fitzwilliam must also have been rather lonely, he was sent to school at the age of seven, neither of us has an idea what it is like to grow up with parents. Of course had my mother lived I would have gotten to know her really well, living with her instead of with a lady companion. She would have sent me to school, but only for a few years, not like poor Fitzwilliam, who spent all his youth there. Some liked it, Frederick for one, he seems to have had the time of his life, though it has damaged him to some extent. And George, Wickham, once he got used to it. He told me he liked being with a lot of other fellows. But my brother never did.'

'I think Manners' fellows have also been damaged by growing up without a mother. They seem to have a weird way of relating to women. Maybe this Grenfell character is not hopeless, I talked to him when he was very, very intoxicated, and he struck me as a rather sad man. A strong woman who demands her due, but who also gives him a measure of respect, may improve him. Or it may not, that is not in our hands. Will Manners attend the wedding?'

'He will. I'm sure Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam are not going to keep him to his promise to drop his connection to his friends. It would make them worse than he is for manipulating people. They just needed to know he cared about them, about us.

'Anyway, about Wickham: Fitzwilliam couldn't make our planned elopement public, of course, which meant Wickham was still free to break hearts left and right. He was in the militia and stationed near Elizabeth's home, and they met at parties. He lied to her about his past, blamed Fitzwilliam for everything, and she disliked Fitzwilliam so she believed him. Later Fitzwilliam managed to tell her the truth, but she couldn't tell her family. Then her sister eloped with Wickham, and to save Elizabeth from the shame of her sister's elopement, Fitzwilliam forced Wickham to marry the foolish girl. He also got him a commission in the regulars, he still feels a little responsible for the fellow, and of course the girl is his sister-in-law. So that's why they are going over, to help the girl and see whether they can get him promoted.

George would have made me a really bad husband: he would have spent my money until it was all gone, and then he would have leaned on Fitzwilliam to get more, on my behalf of course, and spent that, too. But he would have done all of it in the nicest way possible, he can be sweet, charming, even brave. Still he is a loser and he always will be. The rifles are his best chance of ever amounting to anything.'

While moving to Darcy's with her heart broken over having fallen in love with Nick doesn't seem half as fearsome as it did before Anne found out how nice and homey the place and everyone in it is, there is still time. The rest of the day is the same as the last, barring some minor details like Frederick taking them to the concert, and Anne deciding to start the night in the girls' bedroom. This time she manages to stay awake until they are fast asleep, and she joins Nick in his cot. He is much more mobile, and wants her to stroke him more firmly.

'Tomorrow, we will take a walk together. I need to be active again, and get used to the stares until these fade. I've tried walking, it's no problem.'

She consents, they can always turn back if he is in pain. And now she needs to work on the shame, if Nick is up to walking tomorrow, he will be back to work by Saturday and she will move out on Sunday. Three nights to discover love, it's not much but it will have to do. She already misses him, though he is getting rather bossy. It's easier to keep herself from loving him now he's back to confidence, though he is still very attractive to Anne. The smell of him, and the feel of him, she tries to not work him up too much, but he notices. He may be as astute as she is.

'You're really trying, aren't you? The next step is touching it, Miss, it's fine, the bruising won't hurt if you're gentle. And don't worry, I can control myself, we'll take this one step at a time.'

He is right, she needs to touch it. It's already hard, but soft as well, very pleasant actually. He gasps, but doesn't touch her at all, he clutches the sheet and breathes deeply. Then he finds some inner calm and manages to relax and enjoy her touch.

'What do I do with it?'

'Most men like you to hold it firmly, but I've been hurt too much to risk that already. Better stay gentle for now, Miss. And if you lick it or take it in your mouth they'll just die, it's so good. But not yet, that's several steps. I have a special place where I want to show you what comes before that. Tomorrow, if it pleases you, Miss.'

Good, she likes him to be respectful, though she is very conscious of what Frederick said about the accident of birth. She expects deference from Nick, but based on her birth. Seen that way, it's ludicrous. Besides, no-one she knows would expect Mr Fielding to treat them with deference, and his birth is as low as Nick's. But she really doesn't like it if Nick is bossy towards her because she is a girl. That is as much an accident of birth as the other thing.

Very gently, Anne explores Nick's tender bits, and finds the rest of them surprisingly soft and squishy. Stroking them feels very nice, and he seems in ecstasy. He returns her caresses by now, eagerly, and they kiss with fire. She will miss him so much, who knows when she will find another man who suits her so well? Lying in bed all alone will be such a letdown after nights of this. But she can visit him when the ache gets too strong, he'll undoubtedly make love to her, she'll just have to await her turn.

Bob is pushing the horses as much as he can without the possibility of changing them, and he undoubtedly pushes himself as much, for it is cold to be travelling all day. After spending the whole morning in blessed privacy in the little carriage, they find out how cold it really is outside when they stop for lunch, and they invite Fanny to travel inside the carriage until they stop for the night, but Fanny politely refuses.

'Thank you so much for the offer, ma'am, but I'd rather stay with Bob. He'll get lonely without me. I'm used to cold, my mother cannot afford to buy much fuel, and our part of your house is colder anyway. It's not so bad out here, I've never been this far out of London, it's so pretty!'

And when they finally stop for the night, it's clear Fitzwilliam has outdone himself trying to make this trip their second honeymoon, the place where they are spending their first night is so picturesque it is more at home in a painting than in real life. Elizabeth can't wait to see the whole village in the morning, though she knows there is a good chance they will be off again before first light.

They have made good progress during their first day of travel and are enjoying a very comfortable room with an old-fashioned but rather decadently lovely bed. It's so soft and warm Elizabeth wonders whether she will be willing to leave in the morning. Fanny has assured them their lodgings are also fine, tiny cubicles but comfortable and clean. Too bad they're only engaged, or they might have shared a room, adding to the romance of their experience.

But Fanny is as brisk as one may expect of any maid, when they arrived Bob had barely halted the horses before she was off the box and running around, directing the staff of the inn which luggage was needed inside. Then she arranged their room while Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam strolled around the village green just before dinner, and after that she helped Elizabeth freshen up and dress for an ample local dinner. She is most likely fast asleep now, as will Bob be, after a long day of guiding his beloved team.

Fitzwilliam is also snoring softly, they have spent a lovely day of travel together, sticking to talking about innocuous subjects like the renaissance concert and Georgiana's first public appearance, Anne's sudden zest for life, how to keep Mrs Reynolds from working herself to death after suffering pneumonia this winter.

But Elizabeth knows she cannot avoid talking about what happened with Frederick, she knows the memory of almost losing him as a friend will sting all over again and she doesn't like to show her weakness like that. Talking about it then letting it go will be much better. Jane's calm assurance that she is already with child has also rocked Elizabeth's world more than she likes to admit: while she doesn't want a child already, and is therefore glad to have escaped fruition so far, she knows she is expected to produce an heir for her husband and she really wants to do so in time. But if both her sisters have conceived within the first month of their marriage, what does it mean that Elizabeth hasn't? Will she prove infertile? It's such a quandary to be hoping not to get with child, but at the same time be afraid of that situation; knowing all this time that her predicament is of her own infliction. She cannot influence the situation anyway, it's absolutely senseless to trouble herself over it.

But wouldn't a baby be absolutely adorable? Charlotte and Jane certainly think so. Maybe Lydia, too, but Elizabeth cannot help underestimating her youngest sister, cannot but think she may not be fully aware how much time a baby costs. And yet Elizabeth cannot feel eager to have one, to go fat like Charlotte and have stringy hair and a red, puffed up face.

Lying awake and thinking about things she cannot control is of no use whatsoever. Better take some rest, tomorrow will be another long day of travel. Plenty of time to talk this over with Fitzwilliam. But for now, she nestles in the luxurious bed, snuggles against the warm shape beside her, who makes an appreciative noise and then goes back to snoring lightly.


	89. Chapter 89

Chapter 99

Anne wakes at the sound of the cock crowing. It's five, there is still time. Nick is curled up against her, he is awake, too. They kiss in the dark, and fondle a little more, reluctant to let go of the other. But it has to be done, and Anne gets up, dons her nightgown, then kisses him one last lingering time.

'Half an hour before breakfast this time, Miss?' he asks. 'I don't think I'll manage an hour, though I suppose you will by now. You've grown so strong in just a few days.'

'I should, I've been ravenous all this time. Next I'll grow fat.'

'You will be the most beautiful woman in the world if you do.'

It's a physical thrill to have him compliment her outrageously, almost as if he loves her. Another kiss, and she leaves to find her own room. She'll tell the girls she moved to her own room because she couldn't sleep.

Nick sees her go with intense regret. It's wrong to do this to a noble girl, a virgin, she should be worshipped from afar, not desecrated by his touch. But she wants it so badly, and he can't help himself. She is getting more beautiful every day, she was out of his league to start with but she's going to find out soon how men worship true beauty. With her name and fortune added, suitors will be thick as fleas on a street cur. Fortunately she is gaining confidence to match, no gentleman will find her an easy prey. For days now, Nick has been telling himself that he is doing her a favour by teaching her how to love, but in his heart he knows he's taking advantage of her innocence, of her desperate need for love. It's a despicable thing to do, but she has been so good to him and he does love her, however hopelessly. He is going to give her as much insight in men as he can, to have her make the best possible choice of husband when the proposals start coming in.

At least she's not falling for him, however painful the realisation is. Yesterday it seemed as if she was, but that must have been his imagination running wild, those damned pills. Now she is very business-like, taking step after step towards a goal of her own devising. She may be using him instead, he has no clue. Maybe she's not as innocent as he thinks, just starved for love.

It's drizzling when they step outside, Nick hasn't told anyone he was going out, no need with him being on sick-leave. Miss Anne may have told someone, but most likely no-one was up yet. Never mind, they'll be back in half an hour. The park is too far, but he knows a nice lane where people have large gardens. He heads in the opposite direction from last time, and she follows. At least she's happy to see him, her eyes are shining and her smile dazzling. Never mind, he tells himself, they're not for you anyway. But he remembers her in his arms, her hands stroking him everywhere, his ardour barely contained.

'I'm moving in with my cousin as soon as you are back to work, Nick. Mr Manners proposed to me yesterday, he wants me to consider a marriage of mutual interest.'

That's hard to hear before breakfast, and so casually mentioned. As if she plans to have eggs instead of toast. Good, his dismay doesn't show, for she continues, 'He's like you, not interested in a lasting relationship, but he wants to get married for propriety. I don't love him, but I like him a lot, I could do much worse, and my cousins and uncle will certainly approve of him. He knows everybody and wants me to join him in what he calls the society game. I'm interested, I'm eager to get to know him.'

So little time left. But she is right, Mr Manners is a good match, prudentially. No serenades from him, apparently, but he seems kind, and very likely to treat Miss Anne well, despite planning to continue his philandering and telling her outright. They walk on in silence, it feels good to just be together like this, the gardens are a bit dreary this time of the year but the houses are nice to watch. And she'll stay until he is back to work, she has been such a trooper, like the doctor said. At least he is certain she likes him.

Then suddenly a black buggy halts right in front of them and a man gets out. He is large, strong and he radiates aggression. Nick feels his body tense, his sturdy leather cudgel is back home where it will do him no good, but there is some resentment still smouldering inside him over just taking Wellesley's beating. He feels a certain need to strike back at someone, and doesn't need a weapon besides his own fists. His body may look battered, but that's the outside, the inside is ready for anything. Except for his broken ribs, but he can bear the pain, he'd kill himself defending Miss Anne.

'Miss de Bourgh?' the man says, deferentially. So he knows her name and respects it.

'Do I know you?' Miss Anne asks frostily, 'if you want to see me you can come to the house where I am staying. I am taking my daily exercise and I do not want to be disturbed.'

'Your mother has sent me to take you home. She is displeased with the report she has had, apparently you have been staying with people she doesn't approve of. If you get in the buggy, we will fetch your things and you can be home before lunch.'

She is even more beautiful when she is angry.

'You presume too much. I am an independent adult, my mother's displeasure has nothing to do with me. Off with you, and don't bother me again.'

'I'm sorry, Miss, but I have to insist. Your mother has ordered me to take you against your will if you refuse to obey.'

The man must be a maniac! Doesn't he know whom he's up against? But before Nick can say anything, Miss Anne hisses at him, 'If I'm not back by lunch, tell my uncle and Mr Manners.' And she runs away, fleet as a hare, disappearing around a corner. Nick so wants to run after her, to protect her, but there is no way he can keep up with his broken ribs. And he'll only lead this fellow to her, who has a fast buggy. Better distract him so she can get back home.

'You're a peculiar kind of guard for a young lady,' the fellow starts. 'How does your master expect you to protect someone when you cannot even protect yourself? Look at you, man, no wonder the lady ran off. But I'll get her in the end, I always do.'

Trying to stay calm and refrain from violence, words hurt more than blows after all, Nick faces the taller man fearlessly, moving inside in his personal space until they can smell each other's sweat. The fellow stinks of spirits and smoke besides, no way will Nick let him even come near Miss Anne. When he is so close that the taller man's superior reach is useless, Nick addresses him as the city boy he still is.

'You're not from here, are you?'

The fellow takes one step backwards, he says nothing but it's clear he isn't. He's a countryside bullyboy, no match for someone who grew up on the backstreets of London. Nick closes in again. 'But you must have heard of Earl Compton, and Mr Darcy of Pemberley.'

'Lady Catherine de Bourgh doesn't want her daughter to associate with her undutiful nephew.'

Another step back from him, and this time, Nick decides to spare himself the reek of old tobacco and stale beer.

'I don't know about your backwater, but in London, Mr Darcy is very influential. And Lord Compton has connections in Parliament. Miss de Bourgh is under their protection, and when they find out you have threatened their relative with abduction and violence they will scour the country to find you, and teach you a lesson you will never forget. And I believe her other cousin leads a regiment of soldiers? A thousand hard-bitten men, right here in London? If you start running now, you may be beyond their reach by the time I give them your exact description.'

And he dramatically takes a good look at the large man, as if he's committing his exterior to his memory, which in fact he is. The fellow now takes a step towards Nick, hands outstretched, as if he is planning to keep Nick from giving anyone anything. But Nick laughs at him, this man is used to intimidating farmers, and Nick is more than ready for a little brawl in a good cause. He wants the fellow to lay a hand on him, so he can finally hit back.

That is too much for the man, most of his victims will do anything to avoid violence, this black-patched brawler seems to seek it, the fellow who mangled him must look even worse. He beats a hasty retreat to his buggy and drives off. Nick is left standing without feeling of triumph, he's upset at having lost his charge, afraid she has walked herself lost. But he has no idea where she can be, better check the house first, and get more people on the streets if she's not there. He thinks he has scared the fellow right back to Kent, but one never knows.

Walking as fast as he can with his broken ribs, he is met by Mr Blackwood two blocks from the house. His master stops, takes Nick's arm to support his servant and gasps, 'Thank God you're all right, Nick! Miss de Bourgh came running into my study not five minutes ago, saying you were in danger from someone who was after her.'

'So she's safe? She must have run like the wind, and straight for the house.'

Wait a minute. 'You came to find me, master? Running?'

'Of course, you're hurt. Can't have you fighting. Did he leave you alone? Miss de Bourgh assumed he'd go after her and leave you be, but later she started to doubt that. Wait, don't tell me here, she'll want to hear, too, she was worried. Let's have coffee and a snack in the parlour and you can tell us all about it. Now be careful, you're still weak.'

Whatever has gotten into Mr Blackwood? He's not that bad, he can walk, he would have beaten that fellow to a pulp if the coward hadn't run.

'Thank you for your concern, master, but I feel fine. My ribs are still broken, of course, and that makes me short of breath, but I can walk, really. Just not too fast and not too far. I'm bored lying in bed, sir, I'd rather go back to work anyway.'

But that means she will go.

Nick Fowler, she will do that anyway, he berates himself silently. Even if you were a gentleman instead of a servant she'd leave you. You're plain, and she is more beautiful than anyone. You just enjoy your affairs, for that is all you are ever going to get.

Only when she is almost back to the house does Anne realise she may have thrown Nick to the wolves. He is still hurt, he cannot run or defend himself, and she just left him standing there! She thought only of her own danger, and never spent a single thought on his. Checking the narrow alley leading to the front of the house she decides to try the back door. The cook knows her and will open it for her.

'Miss de Bourgh! How did you get here? We thought you were still sleeping!'

But Anne doesn't hesitate, she thanks the cook for letting her in and for his concern, then runs to Mr Blackwood's study. Nick needs his help, he has to order a search. Still gasping, she knocks on her host's door and at his kind request to enter, does so. She manages to tell him what happened in two sentences, and he gets up immediately and asks, 'Where was this, my child? I will go out myself, immediately, if I can't find him we'll organise a search. But time is of the essence here.'

She describes the road they took, and her host assures her, 'I'll have him back in no time, Miss de Bourgh, do not worry,' then runs off.

But she does worry. She can't find rest anywhere, and merely paces the hall impatiently until the butler opens the front door and Nick stumbles in, accompanied but not supported by Mr Blackwood.

'Miss de Bourgh, are you all right?' He wants to embrace her, but he doesn't dare in the presence of his master. Anne doesn't care, she feared for him, he looks so vulnerable with his black-and-blue face, she has to hold him for a moment, Mr Blackwood won't even notice. Her face buried in his neck, she mumbles, 'I'm fine, Nick. Just very sorry I ran off like that. Are you hurt?'

A tiny sound of distress escapes him. 'I wasn't until you squeezed me so tightly, Miss, have mercy on my poor ribs.'

'I'm sorry Nick. You have a tough job.'

Now why does that make him smile so dazzlingly?

'All right, children,' Mr Blackwood says kindly, 'let's sit in the parlour and talk. This sounds serious, I have a duty to keep you safe, even though you are an adult, Miss de Bourgh. And Nick, I want to know how you escaped another thrashing. Will you start?'

As Nick tells them how he bullied her mother's henchman into flight, Anne is proud of him. He was never in any danger, fortunately. Then Anne relates how she used the streets at the back of the houses to escape, entering the house through the back door.

'You need a guard, Miss de Bourgh,' her host says. 'Nick, you say you are well, are you fit to do some light duties?'

'Yes, sir,' the faithful servant nods, 'I'm bored with lying in bed.'

'Well then, Nick, as long Miss de Bourgh stays with us, you will not leave her side. You will be excused from other duties, when you go out you will leave Miss Sophie and Miss Angelina to the other attendants, your sole duty is to keep an eye on Miss de Bourgh. Both eyes. Understood?'

'Very well, sir.'

'And now I want your uncle's address, I believe your cousin Mr Darcy is out of town? Do you want me to inform Mr Manners? He introduced you to us, I think he needs to know the danger you are in. You say this rogue came from your own mother?'

'That's what he told us. My uncle is seeing her this Saturday, Mr Blackwood. He will sort her out. But until then I will feel a lot safer with Nick by my side. Imagine him chasing off a taller man just by threatening him, broken ribs and all. If it gets too much for him, if he tires, I'll read while he rests. I've gotten used to that anyway. And I'd like Mr Manners to know, indeed. He would feel slighted if we were to keep him ignorant of this.'

Permission to be with Nick all the time, until she moves to Darcy's house. Anne almost wants to congratulate her mother for offering her a perfect opportunity to become intimate with a servant. Well, maybe she'll write her a note when uncle Spencer has secured Anne's inheritance. For now, she accompanies Nick to his room since it's clear he needs some rest. His face shows he's in pain, and he is still labouring for breath just the tiniest bit. Mr Blackwood accepts the excuse beautifully, and within minutes they are in each other's arms in Nick's room. 'I'm sorry I squeezed you, Nick, I'll get you one of those powders.'

'Please, Miss, it's not that bad. Won't you stay?'

'I'll be back in a minute, you're in pain and I feel responsible.'

He nuzzles her throat and covers her face in those tiny, loving kisses she likes so much.

'You're so sweet to me when I'm pain, Miss. I'll gladly suffer a little to get spoiled.'

That's not fair! He is the one who is much nicer when he's in pain! Or delirious. But she can't hurt him by telling him. He's kind of nice when he's bossy, too.

'A penny for your thoughts, Miss Anne. For you tightened up in my very arms just now. Tell me. Please, Miss Anne, we have so little time left together.'

They have, and the very though makes Anne sick to her stomach. But still she replies frankly.

'You're bossy, Nick. When you're less in control you're not, and it's easier to be really nice to you. Of course I'm sweet because I feel sorry for you, but it's mostly that I have been bossed around too much in my life so far. As much as I like you, it rankles.'

'Mr Manners will expect you to obey him once you're married.'

'I'm not married to you, Nick. And I won't marry him either if he won't respect me. That's why we are going to get to know each other very well before we do.'

'He'll hurt you by making love to others.'

'I guess I'll soon find out if that hurts me. We'll be living in the same house after all.'

'I'll try to be nicer, Miss. Mr Blackwood has allowed me a lot of freedom these past years, and it takes some authority to keep the young ladies in line. I'll bow and scrape to you until you fall in love with me.'

'May I please get that powder now?'

'Yes, Miss de Bourgh, if you insist I'll release you for a few heartbeats.'

'Message for you, sir, from Mr Blackwood.'

Simon hands Frederick a sealed envelope, indeed addressed to Mr Manners and sealed shut with the Blackwood crest. Looking up from his paper Frederick suffers a twinge of sadness to find himself addressed so formally by someone he loves so dearly. He looks about him, there is no-one here.

'Need you be so formal, Simon? There's no-one here, you might as well allow me to steal a kiss from you.'

Simon looks very disapproving, and Frederick suppresses an urge to get up from his lazy chair and tickle him until he smiles. He is right, of course, but it hurts to be strangers.

'Someone can enter at any time, sir, if Johnson catches us kissing it'll be all over the papers tonight.'

'If Johnson wanted to see me, wouldn't he have delivered this message himself?'

Good, his beloved can smile as well as look grave.

'He practically begged me to do it, sir.'

'Are we talking about the same man here? Young, conceited, dressed in livery but not nearly as handsome in it as a certain other chap in this household? He's not afraid of me, is he?'

'That's him, sir. I don't know who that other fellow is, but Johnson is most certainly a bit afraid of you. Says he has no idea what you're thinking at any given time, and that worries him.'

'Hmpf, as if he knows what Elizabeth or Darcy are thinking. And as if it's any of his business. But I guess it's a good thing, for it makes spending a few minutes talking to you a lot safer. Will you stay for a moment while I read it? I may want to send a reply.'

'Of course, sir, I'm very pleased to serve you in any way I can.'

'Splendid, then I'll be pleased to serve you tonight, my love.'

A very fleeting dark look is quickly replaced with one of love, he is so handsome, how is it possible that such a charming, stunning Adonis can love a plain fellow quite a few years older than himself? But he does, there is no question about that.

'Better open it, sir, it almost certainly concerns Miss de Bourgh and it may be important. Why else would Mr Blackwood send you a private message?'

He is right, of course, he's always right. Breaking the seal Frederick can see the note, it's a mere scribble of three or four lines. He quickly takes it out and reads it, then hands it to Simon to peruse, who does not complain that someone might see Frederick treating him unlike a servant. No, Simon is as fond of news as Frederick himself is. When his beloved looks up from the note, Frederick growls, 'Collins, that miserable boot-licker. I do indeed want to send a message, but not a reply. I'm not going to spend a favour that has been owed to me since my senior year on a slithering snake. It will just turn around and bite my hand. Hopefully Portman hasn't tracked Collins' persecutor down yet and delivered the warning. Let the chubby miser sweat it out a little.'

'I'll send it by express as soon as you've written it. Do you think Miss de Bourgh is in danger of being abducted, Frederick?'

Good, he has given up. Who is here to catch them? And what harm can a little conversation do? Frederick is familiar with all the servants.

'I don't think so, my love, do you?'

'According to Mr Blackwood, his retainer scared the fellow off despite being rather handicapped at the moment, so I guess that's Nick. If he guards Miss de Bourgh she will be perfectly safe. He told me about a kind of weapon he carries concealed when he feels the need, it sounded frightful and not entirely legal. Miss de Bourgh said her uncle will put a stop to his sister tomorrow, so it's just for one day. And you'll see her tonight. You like her, don't you?'

Is this the right moment?

'I do, very much so. Though I can easily withstand her beauty, I just cannot resist such a mind.'

'I thought so, you and I are much alike, and she strikes me as singularly perceptive. And I do appreciate her beauty, it's still growing and I'm wondering where it will yet lead her. I love looking at a beautiful woman.'

'And Nick? Do you like Nick?'

Simon nods.

'I know Nick a lot better than I do Miss de Bourgh, I actually talked to him for a few hours. I like him very much. He's a ladies' man of course, and he likes to sample lots of them, but still I think he's a truly good man. And he is also very bright.'

'I think they are in love, Simon. Miss de Bourgh and Nick. They've been messing around since he got hurt, but I think it goes a little further now than they planned.'

'Then they have gotten themselves in a nice mess, Frederick. Look at us, they'll be even worse off. And somehow I doubt Nick will stay true to a single woman, he's just not the kind.'

He looks at Frederick in a certain way, then proves he is most likely even smarter than the young lovers.

'She's the one. You want to marry her! Take Nick in as well to keep her happy in that other way. For she will be happy playing intrigues with you, and Nick will love doing what I do behind the scenes. Did you ask her?'

And without awaiting his reply, 'What did she say?'

'We'll both think about it. And get to know each other better.'

'Which she started doing right away by getting to know me. And Nick?'

'She denies that he loves her. But I told her I can't give her any love, she needs to find that elsewhere. I think she's aiming for Nick to do that, but not permanently.'

'Damn it, Frederick, that is quite a decision, getting married. We don't have that much time for each other as it is, if we have to share that with a girl as well...'

'I know, love, if you don't want to do it we won't. She knows that.'

'Oh I always knew you'd get married some day. But to actually have to choose, that's hard. That's very hard. If you're right and Nick's in love with her it's easier, I'd love to have him around, and he'll keep her amused. As long as she doesn't try to claim you or worse, falls in love with you...'

'She'd just as soon fall in love with you, Simon. You're more her age, you're handsome and you appreciate female beauty.'

'But you are the gentleman. Most girls from great families are very aware of rank.'

'If she is, the deal's off. Can't have her looking down on you. But mark my words, she's in love with a servant, she'll lose her sense of rank quickly.'

Simon nods, he has seen it happen before.

'Thinking about it, I can't think of anyone more suitable, Frederick, and she did find out about us. I still think that's incredible, imagine what she can do with the two of us behind her. And she didn't seem to mind us at all. Have you ever met her mother?'

'I haven't, no, and I suppose I won't, now.'

'Well I have, and she let me know she did not approve of my familiarity towards her nephew. Mr Darcy laughed when I told him, and offered to let me join him at playing cards that night. I respectfully declined, the back of the house at Rosings was a lot more fun than the front, I can assure you. You'd love it there. I think Mr Darcy was disappointed. And he was a lot stiffer then, though not to me. I sometimes miss those days, but for the camaraderie, not the senseless yearning.

Anyway, you can tell Miss de Bourgh I approve. Let me get your writing materials, I resent my fiancée being hunted by her own mother, we should at least punish the instigator.'

Well, that's it. Simon approves. Now they get acquainted. And Frederick gets to test Nick a little, Simon likes him, but he has to prove he is good enough for Miss de Bourgh.

That afternoon, Fitzwilliam pays Anne and the Blackwood family the promised visit, and uncle Spencer accompanies him.

'My dear child,' her uncle says as he embraces her lovingly, 'you must have been frightened. I really don't know what has gotten into Catherine, but I assure you, I will find out, and I will make sure this will not happen again. Until then I trust you will take precautions?'

'Mr Blackwood has assigned me his most trusted servant as a personal guard, uncle. I feel totally secure.'

'Excellent, then I am content, and I will be pleased to be introduced to your kind host and his lovely family.'

Fitzwilliam also embraces her, after which the usual introductions take place. The family makes the best possible impression, even Mrs Blackwood can be quite charming at this relatively early hour. Sophie seems taken by Fitzwilliam, and while Anne knows the poor girl cannot compare to the real object of his affections, Anne allows herself to think that a gentle, soft-spoken girl like Sophie might suit mild Fitzwilliam much better than Elizabeth ever could have. Darcy and Elizabeth are a perfect combination, and Anne is certain Elizabeth is a very sweet partner for her confident, almost overbearing cousin. But for the much more sensitive Fitzwilliam a less outgoing, less penetrating wife will be a true blessing. Of course he doesn't even notice the poor girl, she is shy and not a ravishing beauty, and if he doesn't care about her person he couldn't care less about her ten thousand. But Anne thinks she knows what is good for the both of them, and will not hesitate to give love a little helping hand.

But Anne is also in for a shock. She has come to know Mr Blackwood as an indulgent, fond parent, who does try to spend as much time as he can on his beloved daughters. But when Fitzwilliam outlines the entertainment he is planning at his camp, and the kind of officers he has in mind to invite, her host more or less confirms his daughters' fears to be disposed of by stating with satisfaction, 'Good, Colonel Compton, excellent! My daughters have a kind of fancy for baser forms of entertainment and I indulge them in it, but it's good for them to meet eligible men in the shape of your officers. The men will provide a good name, and my girls will set them up with a fortune.

Time is ticking away for them, too, you see. When they turned sixteen we made an agreement that they can amuse themselves as they see fit, as long as they obey their retainer and don't cause scandals. But if they haven't found a husband of their own choosing by the time they're of age, I get to choose their husband for them. And I'll choose someone to improve this family, not to make them swoon. Like your Mr Manners, Miss de Bourgh, though I guess he has been offered a pretty face and ten thousand before now. Too bad. But maybe you'll get him, Miss Anne, you were well-endowed with fortune and looks when we first met, and you're growing more and more beautiful every day. If he wants you, he'd better speak soon, for it won't be long now before you'll be looking for a prince!'

Anne is certain she blushes really prettily, and of course it's great to be considered beautiful. But at this very moment she is struggling not to fall in love with an average looking servant, and gathering courage to have him deflower her. She's very glad Frederick isn't here, he'd look at her in a certain knowing way and she'd want to find a hole to hide in from her caring and worried relatives.

And he indeed looks at her in exactly that way when he picks them up for the concert that night and finds out Anne's host has assigned her a personal guard: the very retainer he is supposed to replace until the man is back into action, who is obviously not going to leave her side for a single moment.

But he merely throws Anne a satirical look, and leaves his comments for the relative privacy of the carriage. Anne blushes furiously again, Mr Blackwood undoubtedly admiring her newly gained bloom and envying the man who will eventually win her hand.

Once seated, Frederick takes a careful look at Nick, sitting right next to Anne in his livery, his face still a terrific mess of blue and black, cuts now healed over but obviously fresh. No chance of Nick browbeating him, Frederick is a powerful man and obviously in prime shape. In fact, Anne thinks, the two men look very much alike. Their bearing is different at the moment, Frederick is very much in control and Nick is in his usual perfect-servant guise. But she knows he can be very forceful, though he is trying to control his attitude towards her since she mentioned it to him.

Their posture is very similar, though, and their hair is of the same colour and quality, Frederick's indeed thinning here and there, small wonder since he's Nick's senior by quite a few years. Even their faces look a bit alike, it's hard to see clearly with Nick's adornment of cuts and bruises, but their chin, cheekbones and nose are definitely similar, though not particularly clean-cut or handsome. Still, they both have a certain unconscious charm to make up for their lack of manly beauty.

'So, Fowler,' Frederick drawls, not pleased with the way Nick is claiming Anne, 'you still look a bit worse for wear, are you certain you are up to the task of guarding Miss de Bourgh?'

It's a bit petty to bait a servant, and Anne takes care to show her displeasure. He is merely doing what his master ordered him to do, after all. But Nick does not let Frederick draw him out, he frames a very polite and rather diffident reply.

'No, sir, I'm actually pretty sure I'm not, not in a crisis. But I am sure you are, so I am going to keep an eye on Miss de Bourgh, and if there is trouble I am going to call for help. Maybe my looks will favour me as well, they did this morning, I'm a good deal stronger than I look. For Miss de Bourgh I'd take on anyone.'

Now Anne realises Frederick is a lot softer than he presents himself, for his reply is much more appropriate than his initial question.

'I commend you on your loyalty, Fowler. I admit I was a bit put out with your unexpected presence, I hoped to have a few private moments with your charge which I will now have to forgo on. But it's unfair to hold that against you. We'll just have to find a subject that interests all of us. Will you start by telling me what happened this morning? I got Mr Blackwood's kind note, but I'd like to hear your own descriptions, I have friends in various places who may be able to find this character and teach him some respect.'

And so Frederick works his magic on his supposed rival, drawing him out, praising his descriptive talents, and his courage to face a taller man while suffering from broken ribs. Sophie and Angelina are totally speechless under Frederick's spell, and Anne is starting to consider a marriage to him with more and more satisfaction. Knowing from the first that he is taken she will certainly be able to keep from falling for him, he is very admirable but a bit too clever to Anne's taste. Fine for company, but maybe a bit too complicated to love, when one never knows exactly what he is thinking.

Nick is talking freely, forgetting his 'I'm hard at work' attitude, enjoying the clever conversation with a kind of hunger. He really is a servant by accident of birth, for he understands everything Frederick offers as possible reason for a hired bully to be so easily cowed, and readily compares it to his memory of the experience. Anne is relishing their clever talk, and the feel of Nick's strong body against hers. By the time they arrive at tonight's venue there is a kind of mutual respect, even liking, between the two men. Still Anne thinks Nick is not going to allow Frederick a moment of privacy with the woman he knows is seriously contemplating accepting the gentleman's proposal of marriage, not if he can prevent it. But Anne will not hesitate to force the issue. She is as safe with Frederick as she is with Nick, if not safer, and she is not subject to his master's commands. Not if Nick wants her to stay until he is back to all his duties.

Anne can see Frederick has some news, and she suspects it concerns Simon. She needs to give him chance to share it, and she really wants to know. To her, Simon hasn't just half the votes, to her Simon decides. If he doesn't want her in their relationship, it's not going to happen. To keep up the appearance of a marriage he will have to suffer quite a bit of intimacy between Anne and his lover, and she can imagine that must be quite a burden. She doesn't expect the same problem with her lovers, there will most likely not be a single, possibly jealous, partner for her. Even Nick is showing some signs of trying to rule her, Anne does not want to put up with that anymore. Equality, yes, she needs to look at him as a man instead of as a servant. But that goes both ways, she may be a woman, but she can make her own decisions.

And after the concert, when the hall empties towards the front, Anne enforces her own will. Nick has been at her side all evening, seeking as much physical contact as narrow seats can offer, but sitting on a hard chair all evening has taken its toll, he is in some discomfort.

'Nick,' she says quietly, 'you need to walk around a little, you're breathing sounds laboured, I can tell you're in pain. Why don't you mind the girls while they talk to Mr Fielding? I need to have a few words with Mr Manners in private, we'll be right here, and you know nothing can harm me with him by my side.'

He does not like it, but she asks his understanding, she does not command him. Nor is she a Blackwood child, she is not bound to obey him. He cannot but give in, and he does so graciously.

'You're very perceptive, Miss. I am in some pain, and walking a little will relieve it. Thank you for suggesting it.'

It hurts a bit to hear his formal reply, but there is little time to really feel it. As soon as he is off with the girls she gets to the point.

'You have news for me, Frederick.'

He grins broadly, it's good news. 'Simon approves of you. Of course he worries about sharing his life with someone he doesn't know, but that goes for all of us. I think things are getting down to testing each other's liveability. Your admirer does not approve of me, I'm afraid. Though I think I've made a little progress tonight. Did you tell him about my proposal?'

Anne is not pleased with the term, Nick does not claim her, and cannot be claimed.

'He is not my admirer, Frederick. He is my teacher, I'm using him to conquer my shame. And yes, I did tell him. He showed no envy, in case you were wondering.'

'Teach me how a man's mind works, Anne. I'm older than you and I have some experience with lovers, coincidentally all men. Believe me, Anne, that man is madly in love with you. Only his low status is keeping him from staking his claim to you, he is very carefully avoiding being possessive. I pity him, he must be in agony. Don't torture him, Anne, if you want him, you know you can have him, I like him and Simon does, too.'

'I will not be possessed by any man, Frederick. And I'm not torturing him, he's probably already planning his next liaison. He told me himself that he has any number of lovers, all of them noble ladies who dote on him. The cook confirmed it with a chance remark. You're a romantic, I bet you see love everywhere. I see what I see, a man trying to seduce a beautiful woman, and taking his time not to frighten her off. When he gets what he's after, he'll move on. And I will move on.'

Frederick shrugs and moves on, good, he can let go when faced with good arguments. He points out a scene in the front of the theatre.

'Look, seeing him do this had Darcy in a fit, he's herding them away from Fielding, poor chap is at his end again. Mr Gardiner is doing great, I told him he had to take my job tonight, clear the room when Fielding starts to wilt. I bet your man would be really good at it.'

If that gives Frederick satisfaction, Anne can live with it. She finds she is much like Darcy, she likes impertinence and ready wit. Teasing her with Nick's supposed affection is perfectly acceptable. She catches Nick's eye to let him know they are done with their private discussion, and ready to leave. Another hour, and she will be snuggled up against him, stroking his soft chest muscles and the dangly part of his manhood. She'd love to see him in the nude again, feeling is great, but seeing is another thing. The one time she did he was covered in blood and suffering intensely. She cannot remember much of it besides the fear she felt for him and the wild ache for intimacy he stirred up inside her.

'I'll think of you when I'm waiting for the house to quiet down before sneaking through the halls. And then I'll forget all about you for a few hours. Enjoy, Anne!'

The cheek of him, Anne cannot help but admire him enormously. Of all the people she knows, Frederick is the least bound by the rules of society. He pretends to honour them, but he does as suits him. As if to prove that to herself, Nick and the twins, he kisses her on both cheeks when they take leave that night. She returns those kisses gladly, he has trained her well by letting her stay with the Blackwoods. No...she will not believe he has set that up as well. He didn't know her at all, she is sure Darcy told him she was the most boring person alive. She has changed so much the last weeks.

When she joins Nick that night, eager for more loving, he asks, 'Will you please follow me somewhere special, Miss? There is a full moon tonight, and I have a little place of my own where we can see it in all its glory.'

He does not mention Frederick, marriage, or anything else. He does not love her, he is not jealous of Frederick. He is just eager to make love to her, which makes her very happy.

They sneak back up the stairs, hand in hand. Anne is not hurt by the thought that he has done this before, numerous times. Two sets of stairs, to a door she passes by each time she goes to her room. He opens it, its hinges are oiled to perfection, there is no noise. Another flight of stairs. He closes the door behind her before going up. The attic, if the musty smell is an indication. It is pitch black, except for a few squares of light overhead. Windows, with the full moon almost as bright as day. He leads her by the hand, takes her in his arms to kiss, the first time since leaving his room, he feels safe here. Anne wonders what room lies directly below, hopefully not his master's bedroom, but she does not voice her question, everyone is asleep.

A few more steps of faith, following her lover in the dark, and they reach a little nest more at home in a dream than a dusty attic. In the moon-lighted square, a beautiful if old fashioned bed is made up with shimmering sheets in the most wonderful bright colours. Black screens hide it from sight on all sides, and when she studies one it's lacquered to a high sheen and painted with exotic scenes. It must have come from the other side of the world, it reminds Anne of china ware, except the colours are different. They are standing in a narrow opening between the screens, and Nick holds her close instead of leading her to the bed.

'This is my tiny piece of heaven, and you are welcome to enter it. I will show you love to the best of my ability, though I may be a little hindered by my ribs. But, I can only let you in on one condition: in this place, there is no rank. In here, you will be Anne, and I will be Nick, two people making love. If you cannot accept that, we'll go back down to my room and make love there.'

He doesn't insult her by making her promise to keep quiet about this place even if they go back down, he knows she will.

'I took me a while to see it, Nick, but I know you are a man in exactly the same way that I am a woman. Rank is an accident of birth. Call me Anne here, and whenever we are alone.'

A crushing embrace proves he did have doubts about her, but Anne merely worries about his ribs. 'Nick, take care! You'll hurt yourself crushing me like that.'

He obviously doesn't care, for he lifts her bodily and places her on the bed with a reverence belying his speech about equality. But of course he does not kneel for her rank, he kneels for a beautiful woman. His kisses are loving, not greedy, and for a moment she allows herself to believe that Frederick was right, that this man is madly in love with her. But she just cannot keep it up. He has had scores of women, why should he fall for the most naïve and inexperienced one? Whom he doubts sees him as a human being instead of a mere servant?

They undress, the attic is less cold than one would expect without a fire, then kiss and fondle each other as Anne has been aching to do all day. After that he sits on the bed and strokes her thighs and inner legs, sending shivers up her spine, making her pant with ardour. He kisses every part of her he has just caressed, and when he whole body is tingling with excitement, he gently spreads her legs. His hands take hold of something down there, opening her up, then he bends over and makes her gasp with the soft touch of his tongue. But only very shortly, for he soon sits back up and gasps himself, excusing himself huskily.

'Oh my poor ribs, they're not up to this! That was painful and breathtaking, though very good otherwise. Please let me improvise.'

And he turns her whole body around until her legs fall off the bed. Kneeling beside it, he guides her legs onto his shoulders and proceeds with what he was doing, causing her to gasp, moan and shiver with pure lust. The ecstasy is climbing and climbing until she feels some kind of shuddering release. He looks up, smiles heartbreakingly sweet, then continues. This time, he uses one of his fingers to tickle her from the inside, making her want to cry out with ardour, which of course she doesn't. When he has taken her to another one of those heights she knows what is to come next, for the heat inside her is making her mad with lust.

But he does not give her what she wants, she can see his face by the light of the moon, he is as mad with desire, but he is not going to do it. 'I can't, Anne. I'm afraid I did something stupid just now, my chest hurts. It's pretty intense, and once I start, it's hard to stop, I could seriously damage my ribs that way. I'm sorry.'

No need to be sorry, she checks him to see how bad he is, he does look as if he is in pain, and she strokes him lovingly to show him she is not put out. Heated though, and he must be, too.

'Is there anything I can do for you? That was so good, now I want to spoil you.'

His face lights up, there is no help for it, she does love him. She will just have to suffer it then, but not yet. She kisses him, and they embrace, and if Anne is rubbing herself against him a little he doesn't seem to mind. Her hand finds its way to his manhood, and she caresses it until he is gasping with ardour. Then she moves down and does to it what he did to her, carefully checking his breathing. Gasping seems inevitable, but he should not really heave for breath.

Giving a clue to what coupling will be like, his hips start to move along with her hand and mouth, not too much, just a tiny bit. Then suddenly, he pulls back, grabbing himself firmly until he shudders and moans, then lies still.

'Most women don't like the taste of that, Anne. I thought I'd spare you the experience. Thank you, I think I needed the release, I feel very mellow all of a sudden. He picks up something from under the bed, and wipes his own stomach with it.

'It's my semen. When a man has a release, the semen spills out. It's what makes babies if it ends up inside a woman. I don't want babies, so I take precautions, I have some right here, also under the bed. I'm afraid you'll despise me for being so calculating, but I want to be honest with you. I've done this a lot. I also want you to know the dangers of making love to many different men. You will need to prevent the seed from getting into you, or you will get with child. And there are diseases...no. I'll tell you tomorrow, when I'm resting. Right now I just want to be with you, and relish this moment in the moonlight.'

They lie down on the bed, bathing in the moonlight. The next half hour is precious, touching and looking their fill of the other's body as they kiss and cuddle. Nick seems to be nodding off, strange since he is usually very awake when they are together.

'Nick, don't fall asleep. We can't stay here, can we?'

This is what Frederick does every night. Maybe he is thinking of Anne right now, sneaking through the hall back to Simon's little room. Or maybe Simon comes to him.

'Indeed we cannot. Shall we sleep in your room? Your bed is larger and more comfortable, and you have a clock. I can move easily now, and my presence upstairs is less strange than yours downstairs.'

It's fine by Anne, she wakes up at five and is not afraid to oversleep. And if she should, Dora doesn't wake her before ten. Plenty of time for Nick to sneak away.

Getting out of the attic isn't easy, Nick seems very tired and he still has to lead. Once in her room, she checks him out as carefully as she can by the light of her candle. Is he still in pain?

'I'm fine, Miss, just very sleepy. I'm sorry, but I'm going to fall asleep on you as soon as I hit the bed, I cannot help it.'

'We're by ourselves, Nick, it's Anne.'

She can feel him shake his head.

'Can't do that Miss, it'll cause me to blunder some day. Better stick to the Miss and be sure. Thank you, though. One last kiss?'

It's a wonderful kiss, but Anne suspects Nick is asleep even before his head touches the bed.


	90. Chapter 90

Chapter 100

No black buggies disturb their walk the next day, which is in a way a disappointment to Nick, since he took the trouble to bring his slapjack along. He is quite certain his master won't approve of the two of them walking out after what happened yesterday, but Nick hasn't asked for permission. Miss de Bourgh wants to go out and Nick has been ordered to accompany her wherever she goes. It's a risk, but a slight one, Nick thinks he has scared the fellow off, and even if the man turns up anyway Nick is ready for him, a supple leather club weighed with lead hidden beneath his livery.

Nick has the agility and the muscle to give it a devastating efficiency, and he knows how to wield the tricky weapon, a legacy of growing up in a lesser neighbourhood in London without real supervision by attentive parents. The broken ribs will hinder him, but not so much that an assailant would notice.

She smiles at him, slightly worried, his face must reflect his aggressive thoughts. He cannot really afford to scowl in such a beautiful woman's presence, he's not that handsome himself, and where his charms usually make up for his lack of beauty, even they cannot improve his current black look. But seeing his mistress' beautiful face changes his face instantly anyway, from aggression barely contained to something that must approach infatuation.

The great charmer has taken a fall at last, and of course he had to make it as deep as possible. A fitting punishment for seducing and discarding dozens of women over his years of adulthood. How long will it take to get over a crush like this? Some of his conquests may be able to tell him. At least he has an excellent taste in women, it wouldn't do to break one's heart over anyone less deserving. Miss de Bourgh is rich, of an impeccable family, connected, beautiful, kind, and as if that is not enough, she is incredibly perceptive and very intelligent. Ergo, way out of his league. But before she leaves him to nurse his broken heart, she will give him the most precious gift in the world: herself. Tonight, or the night after, she's very determined. Which gives him just enough time to teach her a few warning signs, how to recognise fellows like himself, who are only interested in conquest, how to avoid pregnancy, venereal disease, exposure, betrayal. Call it a thank you for what he is about to receive, though part of him still feels inclined to refuse it. Will she cherish the memory for years, or will the shame he will cause her sour the moment as well as the memory?

Isn't it better to suffer a hopeless love as it should be, from afar? Won't indulging her, making love to her, spoil it? Well, it's too late anyway, they haven't coupled but they've done everything else. At least she will leave him knowing what love can be like. For despite suffering some serious doubts over his own place in life, he is very much convinced of his prowess in making love, even with the handicap of broken ribs.

'You're very quiet, Nick, are you sorry to have gone out? Do you think there is danger?'

So little time left together, better make the most of what is left, two, three days?

'I don't, Miss. Just a few regrets. Come, let us use the time we have left together well.'

And he proceeds to tell her things that make them both blush hotly, things that he hopes will keep her safe when he no longer can. And when after lunch she keeps him company during his hour of rest, he tells her even more. The very sight of her makes him feel happy and intensely sad at the same time. When he first saw her, maybe a fortnight ago, she was fagged and skinny, pretty, but in a rather fragile way. She didn't say much, but drank in everything that happened around her. And look at her now, not yet strapping, but glowing with health, fattening up, and bursting at the seams with confidence.

It's that Manners fellow! He did that on purpose, he planted her with a bunch of naughty girls to bring some life back into her. But even he must be surprised how quickly she improved in everything, looks, spirit, health. Maybe the man is good enough for her, though the very idea of Miss Anne falling into the hands of a philanderer offends Nick. Despite being one himself. But at least he knows he isn't good enough for her.

'Take heart, Nick. Tonight we can dance together, and then we'll have the best night of our lives. If I miss you too much, can I come visit? As one of your ladies?'

She must not find out what hold she has on his heart, she'll feel bad. It's not her fault after all.

'I'd be honoured, Miss.'

Their two days on the road so far have been magnificent. Their nights in little inns even more so, Darcy is reminded of their honeymoon all the time, except this is better. They know each other so well by now, have proven they are indeed a perfect match. Darcy's heady adulation for his new wife's beauty and wit has been augmented with a deep respect for her strong, stable nature. Her ability to give him what he needs most, even if it may not always be quite what she had in mind, makes him intensely thankful, and of course eager to give her everything he has the power to give her in return.

And right now that is relief of something that has been bothering her for some days now. It's not very apparent, she is as happy to be on the road as he is, drinking in the sight of nature and country life all around them, relishing the picturesque lodgings he has taken care to choose for them, exactly as he did for their first trip together. She is attentive and even forward physically, but whenever they have a moment of contemplation it is clear her mind is not pleasantly engaged, her beautiful face shows Darcy her thoughts are uncomfortable, painful even. Is it what happened between the two of them and Manners? It did clear the air, and Manners has been almost relieved since then. But Darcy has heard women don't just let things go like most men do. Generally it's Darcy who tends to be resentful and Elizabeth who convinces him to let go, but those cases mostly involved people they didn't care about doing something supremely annoying or even downright evil, anger the prevalent emotion involved.

It's the involvement of someone Elizabeth turned out to love more than she expected that makes it hard for her to show her usual detachment, Darcy is sure. If she were a man, she'd resemble her indolent father more than a little, she really doesn't care that much about things that can set Darcy aflame with rage, like her obnoxious small-minded cousin trying to sully her reputation. Her feminine emotions may be the only thing saving her from being as uncaring and sarcastic as her father, making her the admirable woman she is, and not just to Darcy, to a lot of others besides.

But now, Darcy bets those feminine feelings that temper her usual detachment are nagging her, making her a little less than happy. Time to address them, before they reach Pemberley just in time for dinner. They will be busy the rest of the evening, talking to Mrs Reynolds, and Nathan, and Darcy supposes, whoever of the staff want to have a chat with Elizabeth, she is not going to rebuff them. And tomorrow after church he will take his beloved on a long ramble through the woods, she has ridden a horse daily in London to please him, now he will please her by rambling with her, not just here, in Newcastle as well.

'Will you tell me about it, my dearest Elizabeth?'

He takes her in his arms, and she settles in his embrace almost bonelessly. They have become so close, he always has such an overwhelming sense of oneness when they seem to fit together so perfectly physically as well as mentally. But emotionally, Darcy still has to ask, or wait for his beloved to talk, in some ways women will always be different from men.

'I wasn't trying to keep something from you, my love. I didn't talk about it yet because I'm still trying to sort out my own feelings.'

'Won't you tell me anyway, and maybe we can sort them out together?'

'That is the problem: I can't put them into words. I haven't found those yet. But I'll try, I don't feel bad, just confused. First there is Frederick. I know I'm not in love with him, I love you and thus I know what being in love feels like. But when I realised I could no longer be friends with him I felt a despair deeper than I've ever known before in my life. What do I feel for him, my love? You're not jealous of him, so it cannot be romantic love. I've never had a brother, do you think love for a brother feels more like romantic love than love for a sister? I want him to hold me, but I don't want to kiss him or be intimate with him. I admire him, but I still don't like the way he seems to manipulate people, like he does Anne. What if she falls in love with him?'

Is he really not jealous of his beloved's feelings for Manners, now she is defining them so accurately? No, and he can easily tell her why.

'I think you are right, Elizabeth, I don't have a brother either, but I am a brother, and before she got engaged to Fielding Georgie relished holding me and sitting on my lap. She does it a lot less now, though.'

Which means Darcy really needs to get over his jealousy, it makes him weak, forcing his beloved into the arms of another. He needs to be there for her, that is his responsibility as her husband.

'And I think Manners will improve himself yet, he seems stuck in some sort of habit, but he has had a shock as much as you and me, and I think Georgie and Fielding as well. He will adapt, but slowly.'

She nods, she believes him. But it's not all there is, fortunately he doesn't have to insist.

'And besides having my feelings shaken by Frederick, I'm very confused by Jane's getting with child so soon after her marriage. I still don't want a baby, not yet, but what if I can never have one? Jane, Lydia, Charlotte, they all conceived so quickly. What if I am to be left behind, and leave you without an heir?'

To Darcy, this sounds totally ridiculous, but he can see Elizabeth is seriously worried. Women certainly are different from men, very much so. He will not tell her she will have a baby in due time, hopefully not before she wants one, for one can never be sure, so it would be a lie. He will not lie to his beloved. But he assures her of what he does know for certain.

'I will always love you, my dearest Elizabeth, whether you will give me an heir or not. The only thing that matters to me is that you are happy, and I will do whatever lies in my power to make you happy.'

It's the right thing to say, she relaxes in his arms and snuggles even closer against him.

'Why don't we arrange for you to talk to that midwife, love? She has seen hundreds of babies born, she will know how long it usually takes before a woman finds herself with child. Please don't worry even more, you used to be afraid to conceive, please do not be afraid to not conceive as well. It will make your life very difficult, and to no avail whatsoever.'

'I know, love, I know. I've never meant to worry about things I cannot influence, but somehow it just happened. But I was going to talk with you, as soon as I had found the right words.'

Still sitting together they reach their own lands, a mere half hour away from Pemberley, the surroundings already familiar to Elizabeth.

'Didn't we ride there once?' she asks.

'We did, and in a few weeks we will do so again. I hope we'll get there before dark, I'd like to set eyes on the house again. I'm glad it's Sunday tomorrow, Elizabeth, I'm looking forward to a long ramble through our own park. The horses can use a good rest, and I suppose Bob can't wait to show off his Fanny to the others. Do we worry about his meeting Bruce again? With Hugo still in London?'

Every hint of uncertainty is gone from his beloved's demeanour. This is her house as much as his, now, she knows everyone and has gained an immense amount of confidence in London.

'No we don't, my love. This is Pemberley, not London, this is Bob's original territory, and Bruce has been thoroughly chastened. Besides, Bob has Fanny by his side. She is very sweet but she will defend him to the death by now. Don't forget she was just a hired maid then. All will be fine.'

And she is proven right. When they do arrive, Peter takes charge of the horses, but not until he has drawn Bob straight off the box into a bear hug. He even takes the time to shake Fanny's hand. When Peter is done greeting his colleagues and walks to the lead horse to take its rein, Bruce appears from that exact spot to approach Bob very hesitantly. In the process of handing his beloved out of the carriage, Darcy cannot hear what they are saying, but he can see Bruce's penitent attitude, and Bob's easy greeting to his former tormentor. They shake hands and Fanny also greets Bruce. Of course, she knows him, she was already working for them as a hired maid before Darcy took things in hand. Peter must have insisted on Bruce greeting Bob before anyone else, smart fellow. Darcy hopes he will not spill the news of the new horse to Elizabeth, better talk to him for a second. Leaving Elizabeth to greet the butler and Mrs Reynolds, Darcy quickly says, 'Please excuse me for one moment, my love,' then practically runs towards Peter, who is already leading the carriage away. Like every horseman worth his salt, Peter is keeping a constant eye on his environment, and when he sees Darcy, he halts.

'Mr Darcy, did you forget something inside?'

'Hello Peter, good to see you again. How's the missus, and the baby?'

'Fine, sir, both fine. The missus is very busy, and not just with the baby, though he's a handful. Red-headed and a temper to match.'

'Good to hear it, Peter, that they're fine. I guess a baby with a temper is very tiring for both parents. Peter, please don't tell Mrs Darcy about the new horse, and let the other stablehands keep their peace, too. It's a surprise for when we move back here for summer.'

'Certainly, sir, I'll make sure no-one talks. And I'll keep an eye on Bruce, Bob will be perfectly safe.'

'I saw them meet, it looked promising.'

'Mr Hugo suggested it that way, sir. Told me to make sure they met first thing. He's a hard master but fair, sir. Taught me a lot this winter and allowed me to teach Bruce some. My missus likes Bruce and she's a fair judge of character.'

'I'll keep that in mind, Peter. Will you give her my compliments? We'll meet her again, I'm sure, but not today or tomorrow. See you around, Peter.'

Back to greeting Mrs Reynolds, she looks tired and old. Hugo was right, she needs to stop working for a few months, until her colour improves and she makes up for all the weight she has lost. But just look at Elizabeth, Darcy is sure the housekeeper will not recognise the shy, countrified girl that arrived here as new bride in this dignified, confident woman standing before her. If only Elizabeth doesn't stop being impertinent, for he loves it so.

'Mrs Darcy,' Mrs Reynolds says, almost energetically, 'I would not have known you again if it weren't for your beautiful coat that you had made here. You are so much a London lady in your bearing and your hair and all. I truly cannot see you have been travelling all day. But you have, and I will let you seek a little warmth and comfort inside. I'm so pleased to see you again.'

Elizabeth doesn't merely shake the old housekeeper's hand, she gives her a sincere hug, then observes, 'Thank you for your compliments, Mrs Reynolds. I'm very sorry to see you have been ill, I wish you would let others stand outside in the cold and stay in a warm, comfortable room yourself until you are a lot better.'

Outspoken, even blunt, still Elizabeth fortunately. And Mrs Reynolds needs it. Darcy suddenly feels inclined to hug the old lady as well, and he does, to her surprise. But he cannot help showing his worry by being rather severe.

'Mrs Reynolds, you have not been honest in your letters. I had to hear from Hugo that you have been very ill this winter, and I have promised him to forbid you to do any kind of work except maybe some needlework, until you stop coughing altogether and have gained twenty pounds. That is an order, Mrs Reynolds, and I expect to be obeyed. I will make sure there is a comfortable chair in the common room for you, so you cannot get bored or lonely.

Nathan?'

The steward approaches.

'You will find someone to take over Mrs Reynolds' duties, and you will help her replacement get started. Promote one of the maids if there is one who will do the job to Mrs Reynolds' satisfaction. Starting today, Mrs Reynolds is forbidden to work, or we will lose her to pneumonia before spring.'

Nathan looks glad, and Mrs Reynolds actually more relieved than anything else.

'I've someone in mind already, sir, I was just waiting for you to give the order. Shall I send someone to fetch the lady in question? It's Mr Eliot's mother, she lives with him now because she is getting on a bit, but she used to keep house for a rich relative somewhere down south. It's just for a few months, and she needn't do any actual work, just give directions. I'll keep the household accounts. Mr Eliot told me in church last Sunday that his mother is a bit starved for company, she'll be glad to be among people again.'

'Perfect, Nathan, please see to it. Unless you thoroughly dislike Mrs Eliot, Mrs Reynolds?'

'I don't sir. She's elderly, but I'm sure she can still run a household, and she is very dignified. I like that in a housekeeper. Had I known she was lonely I'd have asked her over before.'

'But you have been too unwell to go to church for weeks, Mrs Reynolds,' his steward comments, 'you couldn't have known.'

And he doesn't patronise the housekeeper by saying she can sit back and enjoy her free time, but does try to reassure her.

'I know it will be very hard for you, trusting another to do your work, but we are going to see to it that you obey Mr Darcy's orders. We all love you too much to just let you work yourself to death.'

Darcy will give him orders not to let her retreat to her private room all the time, but to invite her into their midst pretty often, and that will have to do.

Nathan helps Mrs Reynolds back inside, and Darcy and Elizabeth go upstairs to dress for dinner, finding everything in perfect order once again, Fanny truly takes her job seriously. But tonight she will finally meet all the Pemberley colleagues and undoubtedly have a good time with them, and tomorrow she and Bob will have a day off to spend some time together after church.

She is a fine dancer, Miss Anne, and though she's still devastatingly pretty in the sturdy linen frock and with two braids instead of her hair done up, she looks a lot less like a lady and much more like the sweet, innocent girl she is, despite being a woman in her real age. She seems to have thrown off the distinction of her rank even more totally than Miss Sophie and Miss Angelina and their two friends, taking in the shabby establishment with curiosity and distinct pleasure.

Her joy in being here is infectious, and when the music starts Nick asks her to dance before any other man can. His master did order him to stay close to her. The dance is a lively one, and within minutes her braids are loose and her cheeks are blushing with the exertion, and she compliments him outrageously.

'You look fine in livery, Nick, but seeing you in a shirt I'm tempted to take you to the back to skip a round.'

He has warned her that a proposal to skip a round together means kissing in the back of the room and sometimes even more, outside in a narrow alley or in one of the outhouses. They dance several rounds together, including a few much slower ones her own class would never tolerate for unmarried couples. Clinging together, Nick can see Anne is trying her hardest not to kiss him. But he must not monopolise her, she wants to get over her shame, and this is the perfect place to practise. He can keep an eye on her from the side, he needs a little rest anyway, breathing is hard with broken ribs.

'I can use a little rest right now, Nick. What do you say we skip a few rounds?'

Cheeky, cheeky, but she means it! A little alarmed, he lets her pull him to the back of the room, where she kisses him without a single sign of shame, until his knees buckle. This is not going to help him find his breath back.

Maria and Leonora are still dancing with their own retainers and the twins, known as Sophie and Angel here, have switched to local men, large boys, actually. They don't need a breather, and Nick decides to ignore their skipping rounds tonight, as long as they do it inside.

A local man, a handsome fellow with a black ponytail, asks Anne to dance with him, and she looks slightly put out. But this is what she wants, and Nick encourages her with a gesture, he will watch her to make sure she's safe. So Anne dances with another, and Nick watches all the girls in their turns, but mostly Anne. When they all gather for a drink, she appears shocked to see her friends drinking ale, unwatered ale. Nick and the other retainers have theirs well-watered, but the girls often return from these excursions slightly intoxicated. And since Anne has told him what his master never did, that Miss Sophie and Miss Angelina have until their twenty-first birthday to find a husband they can love, and after that will have to settle for a man of their father's choosing, he thinks they have a right to make merry now. Though he has a hard time believing the master will really do it, he dotes on those girls and he would hate to see them unhappy. He may get them a husband like Manners, though, boring but solid. Though if Anne is right her suitor is a lot less boring than he looks. Besides, Nick has gained a new respect for the gentleman when they talked in the carriage last night, he has a very well-informed mind and seems to have connections and influence everywhere.

'I've never had ale, Nick, I suppose I'd like to try it, but well-watered, like you take it.'

The ponytail man is gone, good, Nick didn't like the looks of him. But even before their little break is done another man wants to dance with Anne, and she accepts. This one is very young, not even twenty Nick guesses, and a veritable giant compared to Anne and even to Nick himself. Still he's nimble enough, Nick can't fault his dancing, though he dislikes the way the fellow holds Anne just a little too close, and touches her face and neck while passing her during the dance.

'Will you dance with me, Nick?'

It's Sophie, and usually he does dance with her most of the time, but he dare not let Anne out of his sight. What if the huge fellow tries to take her outside?

'I'm sorry, Sophie, I dare not get distracted, your father ordered me to keep an eye on Anne. Will you forgive me? I'll make it up to you next time.'

'Sure, Nick, I'll dance with John, he's nice, too. I guess you still have trouble breathing anyway.'

She is nice, and bit in love with him, but that'll fade once she starts to see rank. He wouldn't so much as kiss her, she's like a younger sister to him. Wait, where did Anne go? Scanning the crowd is easy, that fellow is so tall he spots him instantly, moving towards the back of the room. No! Anne! He wrings himself through the crowd and remembers just in time she may want to kiss this fellow. From his new vantage point he can see this is the case, he is not forcing her to do anything, they are kissing with passion and they look so good together! Damn. It is as he feared then, she doesn't love him at all, she's just exploring making love.

Anne has forced herself to dance with another man, if she wants to marry Frederick she will have to find her love elsewhere. She has never seen a man like this, shabby on purpose, his hair is long and unkempt, merely bound back into a tail, and he needs a wash badly. His odour is masculine all right, but overpoweringly so. Most people would consider him handsome, his features are perfectly regular, and there is a certain animal-like charm about him. But to Anne, he feels dangerous. Suddenly she realises that even servants stick to certain rules of cleanliness, but that normal people decide for themselves. Apparently, this man has decided to be more than a little grubby.

'I haven't seen you before, have I? You're a pretty little thing, I would have remembered. My friends call me Harry. What's your name?'

The man just freaks her out, this is not the place to find love, not for her.

'I'm Anne.'

'Well Anne, I'm very pleased to meet you. Can I offer you a beer? And then maybe we can skip a round, or two? Saw you making out with a plain kind of fellow just now and thought you might do better.'

With him? Drink beer? And kiss this, this... gypsy? That is what he reminds her of, a gypsy from a childhood tale of woe. Well, skipping a round with him will certainly give her woe, the thought alone of how he will smell from up close is enough to make her gag.

'I'm sorry, Harry, I think I need to join my friends, they're gathering over there. Thanks for the dance!'

Saved. There is Nick, handing out cups, good, she's thirsty. He's not looking too happy, he must still be in pain. Or no, of course he wants to dance, but he has to guard Anne. Well, one more chap, a better smelling one, and then she'll have to take a breather anyway and Nick can dance a little. Still, it's a lot harder than she thought to conquer shame, and if most men are like this she will not marry Frederick. She'll prefer to find a plain, good-smelling man to keep for herself.

'There you are, Anne, do you want beer?'

'Beer? I've never had beer, and I don't think I want to. Do you drink beer?'

'I like it, but we never drink on the job. I take mine very well-watered, drinking water in a place like this is plain suicide, and they don't serve tea.'

He seems to find the very thought hilarious. Well then, 'I'll have mine well-watered, too. Maybe I'll like it.'

And it's not too bad, bitter, but kind of pleasant. She is thirsty and drinks about half the cup in one go, and then the rest. The other girls are sipping, but they are drinking it unwatered.

Before she can talk to Nick, tell him about the grubby fellow, another man addresses her.

'Would you do me the honour of dancing with me, miss?'

Well, that is what she came to do. He is huge, and really very young, not a day older than nineteen she'd guess, but he looks clean and he is polite. She accepts his hand and follows him to the dance floor, where she finds him a good dancer but a bit pushy. He smells good, though, and he has no beer on his breath. His surreptitious touches make her feel flustered, or is it the beer? It was watered, wasn't it? Never mind, he leads well, and his strength is very interesting, very heady.

The dance is finished, and the big boy, who hasn't even told her his name, leads her to the back of the room, intent on kissing her no doubt. Well, some things are inevitable, and she doesn't feel threatened by a kid his age, no matter his size. So she lets him kiss her, and even kisses him back, but it's a big disappointment. It's not a bad kiss, or a disgusting one, and he has plenty of ardour, but there is no feeling in it, not for her. So far, casual love seems a great big disappointment. Except Nick. But he has told her he has been with a lot of ladies, maybe he is more experienced than most. Whatever, for now she's done with men she doesn't know.

Taking leave of this guy in a hurry, too, she quickly finds Nick, he's watching her, well, he is supposed to. And since they are friends here, she indulges herself by falling on his neck, taking care not to hurt his ribs. He smells like heaven, and his rather tight embrace feels safe.

'I can't do it, Nick, loving different men, it's gross. The first one stank, and he frightened me, and the other one though he could just do with me as he wished. He didn't even give me his name, and I felt nothing when he kissed me.'

He holds her like no-one else in the world and kisses her gently, she loves it when he does that, those tiny kisses filled with tenderness, not passion. She wants to cry, but he laughs merrily instead.

'You can't expect to like just any man, Anne, you have to choose carefully, only pick the best ones. Of course there are a lot of dirty, boring or downright nasty men. Women, too. Do you think I just invite anyone to my little hideout?'

In fact, Anne has been trying not to think of other women in Nick's hideout. Or his arms, or his bed. But she merely answers his question honestly.

'I have never thought about that, Nick. But it sounds right. I'm glad, I don't want to do that again, not ever. Well, I'm not going to dance with anyone else but you tonight. If you want to dance with another girl, I'll sit out a few dances where you can see me.'

'You can dance with John, or one of the other retainers. At least they're clean, and sober, and they are not going to ask you to skip a round. They know who you are.'

He seems eager to throw her at other men, but she's not going to fall for it.

'I'd rather not. You go dance with whomever you fancy, I'll be fine.'

'Well, there is a girl I'd like to dance with. I'm afraid she is a bit out of my league, but if I don't take a chance I will never win her.'

Brazen, that he is. And charming. She's jealous, though she can't think of a girl in this establishment being out of his league. He offers her his hand and says, 'Will you dance with me, Anne? Until we both need a break?'

The rest of that glorious night of dancing they are the only people in the world. Anne just shuts off the knowledge that Sophie and Angelina and their friends can see her dance with Nick, hold him, kiss him openly. She has never been on one of these outings, she doesn't know he is usually rather serious, keeping an eye on everything and anyone. As far as Anne is concerned it's likely he chooses a girl each time to snuggle with.

Whenever they tire, they watch the others together until they're up to another round of dancing, when they are thirsty they share a well-watered beer until Anne is past caring about anything but Nick. She has never seen him so familiar, not with anyone, not even under the influence of those pills. Rank is no longer an issue, they are a man and a woman intensely attracted to each other, and when the music calms down altogether and all the other couples start to dance very intimately, they relish the last half hour in each other's arms.

And then it's time to leave. Nick is back to his professional guise, and Anne finds herself very useful to support Angelina, who has drunk too much unwatered beer. Sophie stays close, walking slightly unsteadily, as do the other girls, apparently leaving this place in the middle of the night is not particularly safe. All five retainers have their eyes on a designated part of the surroundings, so there will be no surprises. Nick has one hand under his coat, Anne knows he keeps a nasty weapon hidden there, a kind of leather club weighted with lead. It's nearly invisible beneath any kind of shirt or coat, and it gives the carrier a distinct advantage over an unarmed man. A man armed with a slapjack equals at least three men unarmed, and anyone out for trouble will most likely be intoxicated as well as unarmed.

The carriage is waiting at the end of the alley, and the retainers stay alert while Anne helps the girls enter one by one. When it's her turn to squeeze in, Nick offers her the support of his hand. She's no longer merely Anne, they're back to the usual formality. He surprises her by squeezing himself in between two sleeping girls and gesturing her to sit on his lap.

'The others will ride on the outside, but I was told to not let you out of my sight. This is the only way we'll all fit.'

'You've let Angelina and Maria drink too much, Nick,' Sophie says, 'and I saw them kiss men, and not just our own.'

'I did notice, Miss Sophie,' Nick says respectfully, 'I thought they deserved to be naughty before they have to get married.'

'Is Anne getting married, then? I saw you kiss her, and not just once but all evening. You never kiss me.'

'She may be, yes, Miss Sophie.' Then he relents, and asks kindly, 'Did you mind very much, Miss Sophie? Did you want it to be you?'

Sophie has had more beer than she should, and it's making her very honest.

'A bit, yes. I never minded the other ladies, but Anne's my friend. But I know you don't love me, Nick, and papa would never let us get married anyway. I think I've met a nice man, one papa liked. He's pretty old, but I thought he was very sweet. Even though he's in the army. Do you think an army man can be sweet, Nick?'

He does not pry, or comment, he just answers the question. He may not be as sweet as Fitzwilliam, but he is a very kind brother to Sophie.

'Sure, Miss Sophie. Officers don't have to do their own killing, so they can be very sweet. Though I suppose they also have to be very brave.'

'I don't think he loves me, I suppose he thinks I'm just a girl.'

Nick laughs, but not in a mean way.

'You áre just a girl to him, Miss Sophie. You need to get him to notice you. Most men like books, and music. Sing for him, next time you meet. You have a beautiful voice. And don't try to be smart, you're sweet, so you should act sweet.'

Nick has no idea how right he is. No mere girl can ever compare to Elizabeth in pertness, especially not Sophie. But the complete opposite may have a chance to win Fitzwilliam. Then she remembers Elizabeth is at most a year older than Sophie, and she starts to doubt her friend's chances all over again.

Nick has had the night of his life, but it has also brought him a world of trouble. Three of the girls are completely wasted, they'll be sick as dogs tomorrow. A fourth has been watching him making sheep's eyes at Miss Anne all night, and the fifth... His stomach churns. The fifth is going to leave him. Oh, they will meet again, at concerts, even at the Blackwoods' mansion. But she will be engaged, then fall in love with her faithless husband, then get with child.

Well, first things first. The girls all sleep in the same room, and Nick will be careful to keep the necessary items handy: buckets, clean water, painkillers, plenty of clean bedding and wash-cloths. He will very probably sleep right next door to them in Miss Anne's room, and he'll keep a set of comfortable clothes handy in case he needs to nurse someone through the night.

But what goes around, comes around. Since the other retainers have been taken back to their homes or masters' houses, Miss Sophie and Miss Anne help him bring in the other young ladies. Everyone inside should be asleep, but they aren't: Felicity and Dora, the ladies' maids, are waiting for them in the hall.

'You must be dead tired, Nick,' Felicity offers. 'We'll help the young ladies to bed, you turn in straight away, you're still hurt.'

'You were so brave with that awful butler, now let us help you, please.' Dora is cute and not of this household, normally he'd have tumbled her within the week, but somehow she seems to lack a little ginger now.

'I'm staggered you'd do that for me, but they're intoxicated. They may be sick tonight, I'm afraid I allowed them a little too much beer. I can't let you make up for my mistakes.'

By now they have the girls in their bedroom, Miss Anne is helping Miss Angelina to undress, the two maids help their visitors, and Miss Sophie manages really well on her own.

'You must turn around until we have our nightgowns on, Nick,' she says imperiously.

'With your permission, Dora and Felicity, I'll fetch some things I may need tonight.'

'Yes, please, Nick,' Felicity replies, 'a bucket, painkillers and clean water. And maybe some extra bedding and a few cloths. And then you really can leave them to me, I've nursed the mistress through quite a lot of hangovers. I'll get my magic medicine when they are all in bed and sleeping. Maybe you can bring an extra pallet from the room next door? I'll sleep in here in case someone needs me. Trust me, I'll have them at the breakfast table tired but sober. Miss de Bourgh, you seem quite all right. You may want to sleep in your own room, tonight.'

'I think I'll also sleep in my own room tonight, Felicity,' Miss Sophie offers. 'Then you can take my bed. I don't think there will be much chatting tonight.'

Nick cannot take a closer look at her to see whether she is not too drunk to stay by herself, since she's in the process of undressing, so he merely fetches the things they need. When he returns, everyone is relatively decent, the intoxicated young ladies are fast asleep, Miss Sophie and Miss Anne are gone from the room, and Felicity addresses him, 'I've everything under control, you seek your bed. Miss Sophie is sober enough, she can sleep by herself, as can Miss de Bourgh. Good night, Nick!'

Officially, Felicity indeed outranks Nick, though she would never make an issue of it. But Nick is aching to be with Miss Anne for what may be their last night together, so he salutes and says, 'Aye, mistress. Thank you, Felicity, I owe you one.'

'No you don't. You got rid of that beast. You know he pinched me and prodded me? I swear he would have forced himself on either myself or Dora within the month. Why don't you visit me sometimes, Nick? I could thank you more fittingly. Dora, too, she has quite a fancy for you.'

They're both cute, but, 'I'm sorry Felicity, I don't do that with my colleagues. And if I don't do it with you, then I won't do it with Dora either, even though she's not actually of this household. Fair is fair. Believe me, it's more trouble than it's worth, having to work together once something goes wrong. But thank you for the offer, you're both really attractive.'

'Too bad, Nick, but I understand. Now off with you!'


	91. Chapter 91

_Author's note_

 _I hope you're all still enjoying reading Revelations as much as I am writing it. Of course it does ramble on, not much drama happening, but then isn't life like that at the best times? Also, when I'm reading books, strong plots make me nervous, I like to read (and write) about feelings, and they tend to get drowned in the action when a story follows a classical setup: flawed heroine (or hero) has her (or his) life ruined and needs to fight to put it back to rights. This story is more like a soap, it follows the story of people's lives, with up and downs occurring throughout and not saving it all up until the end. And as to what seems to have developed in a main theme of Revelations: I do think one could not have avoided getting close to servants emotionally in those days, when they were always about, and knew such intimate details from one's life. Of course most gentlemen and gentle ladies would not have crossed the borders into love, but some must have._

 _Now I promised someone this chapter would contain a lot more E &D than the former chapters, and that is not true. I was mistaken, they're in the next chapter. So, to make up for my mistake, we're publishing that, too. Also, I'm currently re-writing Revelations to past tense and editing out some errors and anachronisms like underwear for ladies. After some heavy censoring it will be offered for sale as ebook on Amazon, where it has been all this time but received scathing reviews over 'experimental sex', which didn't help sales. And more sales means more time to write, so I'm willing to sell my soul there and stay true to myself here on Fanfiction. Enough talk, while you start on this chapter, I'll revise the next. Enjoy!_

Chapter 101

Despite showing mainly relief to all outward appearances, the near-drama of last Wednesday has left traces on Frederick's soul as well as Elizabeth's. He can see the impact it has had on her, and he will ask why and what he can do to make up when she returns from Newcastle. It's not easy to show your feelings when you've been training from puberty to hide them. Only the agony of losing Elizabeth and Darcy could force them out. And not just Elizabeth and Darcy, but Eric and Georgiana as well, and most likely even Simon.

But he didn't even realise that when he begged them to forgive him and not remove him from their protection. Because it has felt like that for some time now, as if they keep him safe, and for someone who is older and has a lot more experience with the world outside, who has been independent from the moment he took possession of his estate and his fortune on his twenty-first birthday, it is a very disturbing realisation. They're not his parents, they cannot tell him what not to do, but then his parents never did that, never got the chance. School raised Frederick Manners, and as it turns out, made a few glaring mistakes in his education.

Riding towards Grenfell's wedding Frederick knows this is the last time he will seek out his college friends as a group. He will see Lascelles, of course, and Bingley, and maybe he will visit some of the others after his marriage, but he will no longer be the one who keeps them together and who arranges the entertainment. He offered Elizabeth to break off all contact with the group, and though he suspects she will not hold him to that, he regards it as a promise and he will keep it to prove his commitment to their family. Is he looking for another group to attach himself to? A group more suitable to his stage of life? And if so, is that a bad thing? If one has no family of one's own, is it such a bad thing to find one elsewhere? It has felt so good to finally belong, to find a place where he can be himself, where he is accepted despite forming a decided risk to their reputation with his shameful preferences.

And Anne? Is she his ultimate effort to gain respectability, to start a family of his own where he will feel safe? Will she be happy and free as he envisions the situation he has proposed to her, or will he merely draw her into his perversions? Smudge her name as well as his own? What will Elizabeth and Darcy have to say if Anne decides in his favour?

Time flies when you're beating yourself up, and before he knows it Frederick has arrived at his friend's house. The gardens are still intact, trees have been pruned, hedges are perfectly trimmed, everything looks as it should in winter. This marriage will undoubtedly be the start of its demise, Mrs Grenfell has found her house with a garden in London, and though it set her son back a small fortune, Frederick advised him to buy it for her, allegedly to be rid of her, but in reality to repay her for what she had to put up with because of his clique's mismanagement of her son's education. The poor widow doesn't reproach him with anything, she looks forward to her move, she aches for liveliness and culture, and she will have her garden but on a smaller scale.

Excepting the staff, Mrs Grenfell is the first to greet him, she is waiting for him in the stables. She must have had her maid look out for his arrival, he did send word he would be arriving at the last moment. No need to dress, there is no time anyway, it's off to church straight away. Fortunately Lascelles offered to be best man, Frederick's enthusiasm for this wedding has changed to guilt, he would make a fine sight standing beside the groom with his feelings as they are. Lascelles is much handsomer anyway and doesn't feel as responsible, Frederick always planned everything, Lascelles merely executed the plans to perfection.

After kissing Mrs Grenfell, he decides she'll do fine as his main company today. She's still largely sober, maybe he can keep her that way until the formalities are done with.

'Mr Manners, do you still see that nice pianist you had along that one time?'

'Now don't pretend you're dense, Mrs Grenfell, it may fool your son but not me. I know you read the paper, you know I am at every single one of his concerts, I'm helping him to conquer the world, starting with London.'

She smiles at him, she loves her little games as much as he does his larger ones. Then she sighs once, and asks, 'Will you thank him for telling me to leave this house? I started to change my life the next day, well, as soon as Bertie's head had cleared enough to understand what I was saying.

Told him to find me a house in London, stopped drinking too much, checked the paper where the best concerts were. And I've had my gardeners save cuttings from every tree, bush and plant I love, had them take home what they coveted themselves, gave away some other priceless plants to neighbours and local friends. Two cart-loads have already been transported, my favourite roses, mainly, they're already settled in London soil, planted by my new gardener. I'm moving out as soon as I can, there is no place under this roof for Caroline Grenfell and myself together, but I need to save my plants before she'll have my garden stumped and seeded. A French garden was always good enough for me, but I expect her to have one of those landscape gardens, with grass everywhere, a few solitary trees and a Greek temple at the back of it. Or the latest fashion, a Chinese garden. Though maybe she'll keep my box hedges, if so, she'll have to buy new roses, I've taken most of mine and given away the rest. I can't take the fruit trees, sadly enough, but I suppose I did always prefer my fruit well-aged in a bottle, and there is not that much space in my London garden. You will come to see it, next summer, won't you? And bring that pianist, if he's still in England by that time. From what I've read in Thursday's paper that will not be for very long, some foreign court will snap him up.'

Dear Mrs Grenfell. And she's not really that old, she may find herself a nice widower or bachelor with a taste for music and theatre, Frederick saw plenty of them at the lecture Wednesday. Most of them in the company of Earl Compton, actually, maybe he can even help Mrs Grenfell find a few friends in London with a letter of recommendation.

You're plotting again, Frederick, says a little voice in his mind, which he will not allow to sound just like Elizabeth. She has not forbidden him to plot, as long as he respects his pawns and shows her and her family a lot more respect and his love. All right, he has plans with Anne, and if he messes up he will rue that greatly, but if not she will benefit. She's head over heels with that young man, and he is quite a character.

'I certainly hope so, Mrs Grenfell, I'm planning to have a look at the continent myself this fall, and I'd love to visit foreign courts with Mr Fielding.'

'And when are you going to get married, Mr Manners? Isn't it time you found yourself a nice young lady to keep you in England?'

So good to be able to say this.

'I have my sights set on someone, and the lady in question has my offer under consideration.'

'No burning love for you then, Mr Manners? I'm sorry for you, I so feel a person should know burning love once in his or her lifetime. I had my moment, I'm afraid Bertie will never know it, but I'd hoped you'd find it.'

She is shrewd. Frederick cannot help thinking of Simon, of the smooth skin of his chest and narrow flanks, the taste of his kisses, the look of love always waiting for him in his large, long-lashed eyes. Better remember not to cross blades with this lady!

'So you've known burning love after all, my boy. Whatever happened to make you consider a marriage of convenience, at least you've known love. Cherish that feeling, Mr Manners, it's the most precious thing in the world. And I've known couples who fell in love years after their actual marriage, there's always hope.'

She isn't even trying to get the better of him, it's his guilty conscience speaking. Frederick has always imagined that Mrs Grenfell secretly dislikes him, for ruining her son in his most formative years. He thought she suspected something, and was trying to get more information to bring him down. And all this time she really hoped for his sake that he would once taste true love. He has wronged her for a long time. But that is no reason to let his guard down.

'I have a very high opinion of the lady in question, or I wouldn't have considered marrying her. But it's her choice, she may yet decide for a more handsome man, or a younger one, or one that she falls head over heels in love with. If I succeed, it will become public in about a month. But I still have a promise to you to fulfil, to take you to one of Mr Fielding's concerts. If you are in town before the end of March, let me know, we'll set a date.'

'A date with Mr Manners, I'll be the envy of the town. Good, it may open some doors for me, I want to have a lot of acquaintances and a few good friends. I have a feeling that public life will suit me like nothing else. Now, Mr Manners, shall we proceed to the house? I shall have to subject myself to my maid's ministrations again to look my very best for the service. And you may have to talk some heart into Bertie, he is tall and he talks loud, but Caroline Bingley is enough to put the fear of God in any man. Beneath his rough speech and uncouth manner, Bertie is still an insecure, frightened boy, afraid to spread his wings and leave his mama.'

And she even believes it. Well, Frederick believes her Bertie can be managed, and so do Bingley and Lascelles, Bingley enough to risk his sister's happiness. Though she is an adult and they did warn her. Seeing the bride and groom will show him more, will they be truly eager, or will they be afraid to make the mistake of their lives, under pressure of their friends in Grenfell's case, and a craving for status and riches in Miss Bingley's?

At least there need not be any doubt of their feeling about the wedding. Grenfell, looking more than splendid in a midnight blue coat trimmed with silver, emphasising his broad shoulders and his slim waist, takes his dear friend Manners in a bear hug with, yes, Frederick is not imagining things, tears in his his eyes. Tears of gratitude.

'Manners! I was afraid you weren't going to make it, too busy weaving plots in the King's capital. Wait until you see my bride, my friend, you've never seen a woman as splendid as she is. Though a certain section of the newspaper did report your having been spotted in the company of a maiden as beautiful, and in possession of an exalted name and a matching fortune. Is there any truth in them, Manners? It would surely account for your tardiness, we have been celebrating my last days as a bachelor since Thursday, but do we really have to rely on that certain section of the newspaper to know what you are up to?'

Well, Frederick would like to say yes to all of that, except he really hopes Anne will have solved the maiden bit by now, or at least before she moves in with them at Darcy's place. But he will not mention any of it. His smug expression as he contemplates fooling the lot of them will tell Grenfell what he needs to know.

'I'm sorry to have been remiss in my communications, Grenfell. But I'm certain you will be much too busy to care after today. I will go so far as to tell you I have been very pleasantly occupied these last weeks, and in excellent company. And I cannot wait to see your bride in all her glory, is she as happy as you are to finally be able to tie the knot?'

'Manners, you're still the most devious of all of us, you lucky bugger. My Caroline is so beautiful, and she adores me as much as I adore her. I can't wait for tonight, it'll be so special to be someone's first.'

That of course is most likely not true. After all the experienced women Grenfell has had, it's virtually certain that bedding a virgin will be a disappointment. Unless Manners is hugely mistaken in his character, Grenfell does not have the patience and the sensitivity to make the first time pleasurable for his poor bride. Anne will certainly fare much better with her reformed philanderer.

But of course Manners agrees with his friend, after which he greets all his other friends and Kitty, who is very pleased to be in the company of so many dashing fellows, who all look up to her husband almost as much as to Mr Manners.

When the bride appears, ready to go to church, she does indeed look beautiful. She has chosen a stunning champagne dress of the most luxurious silk Frederick has ever seen, setting off her nice, full figure to advantage. Her hair is done intricately and beautifully, her veil is delicate and in excellent taste, but that is not the main difference with the usual Caroline Bingley: through the thin fabric of the veil Frederick can see that this woman is actually smiling expectantly! There is no sneer in her face, no haughtiness, this is the woman she might have been if she hadn't thought so well of herself, and so meanly of others. This is the change Darcy had to go through to win Elizabeth, except he managed to hold on to it. Mrs Caroline Grenfell will no doubt be back to her usual self as soon as her wedding night is over.

Miss Bingley greets Frederick a lot more heartily than their acquaintance justifies, either she is flattering him as the leader of her husband's clique and the keeper of all the evidence against him, or she is trying to show him what he couldn't have. Probably the first, since she has proven to read the gossip in the newspaper, so she must know he is reputedly seeing Miss de Bourgh.

'You look stunningly beautiful, Miss Bingley,' he compliments her truthfully.

'Why thank you, Mr Manners! Coming from you that is a true compliment, since you're in the constant company of Mrs Darcy, who only wears French couture these days. I always knew she'd be a drain on poor Darcy's purse.'

At least she didn't lose her meanness altogether. The sneer is back, too, even before her night of nights. And all based on the dependable word of the gossip reporter of a London paper. Well, Elizabeth will have the last laugh, as usual, when she reveals the source of her fashion at the end of this season.

'Darcy doesn't seem to mind. I guess he liked the reception his beloved wife got among the belle monde of London, they were all so very welcoming. Now where are your bridesmaids? I'd like to see how you've dressed them.'

Caroline Bingley has one important lesson to learn if she is to make it in the adult world: choose your adversaries with care. She is not up to Mr Manners' level of meanness yet, not by far.

'Since we're both adults, engaging in a marriage of convenience, I've decided to forgo on the bridesmaids.'

She couldn't get any. Frederick might observe that few maidens would dare come so close to Grenfell, but since the groom is his friend and this is the wedding Manners helped arrange for him, it will not do to insult the bride and the groom in one effort. And if Elizabeth is still participating in public life next season, and Mrs Grenfell is allowed into the belle monde, his dear friend can take very good care of herself, she does not need Frederick to defend her against the likes of Miss Bingley, soon to be Mrs Grenfell.

The wedding is as grand as it should be, the bride and groom speak their vows perfectly and kiss with passion. They look beautiful together, his tall figure and her graceful one. The church is beautifully decorated, the food is plentiful and of the best quality, and old Mrs Grenfell is excellent company, relatively sober and very witty. She is obviously quite happy to dispose of her son, and thankful to Frederick for finding someone to take him. He wonders how much she knows about her boy's true nature. As his friends start to get more and more intoxicated, Frederick feels more and more out of place in their company. It bothers him a lot, until Bingley and Lascelles join him and he discerns much the same feelings in them.

'I don't fancy getting drunk, and it sickens me a little to see our friends behave like animals,' comments Lascelles. 'It never bothered me before, but I'm rather ashamed for Kitty to see them like this. What if she thinks I used to carry on like that?'

'They didn't do this at my wedding,' Bingley observes, 'I thought you were all past this stage.'

'They controlled themselves at your wedding, Bingley, you hadn't been part of our group for years, after all,' Frederick explains.

'And there was Darcy. No-one is going to make a fool of himself in front of Darcy,' Lascelles adds.

'I'm afraid the three of us are no longer altogether part of this,' Lascelles concludes. 'Does that mean you're getting married, too, Manners?'

'I may,' he replies mysteriously, 'if someone'll have me.'

'I suppose this is it then, the end of our little brotherhood.'

Lascelles doesn't seem particularly sad about it.

'I'm glad I had the good fortune to be part of it again for a few months, my friends.'

Frederick does wonder whether that will still be the case half a year from now, though he is certainly glad himself: without Bingley and his wedding, Frederick would still be all alone and playing a role day and night.

'I'm glad you were, Bingley. I hope we'll stay in touch whatever happens.'

'Of course we will, Manners! Jane said you made up with Darcy and Lizzy, didn't you? And if the papers are right, we'll soon be family, be it through several marriages. I'm certain we'll meet often.'

'We will, Manners. I refuse to let the two of you go, though I cannot see myself planning debaucheries for the rest anymore.' Lascelles has forgotten Bingley didn't know about those.

'You still had those? I'm glad I didn't know. Come, let's dance a little then turn in early, they won't notice our absence. And who knows what Grenfell may have planned to amuse his friends, those who are not yet married, I don't want to be around when that starts. Nor should Grenfell be.'

But Frederick doesn't care.

'That is out of our hands now, comrades, unless he harms someone. We have officially handed over our charge to Miss Bingley, now Mrs Grenfell. I plan to be back in town tomorrow, Miss de Bourgh will move in with us at Darcy's, and I expect her to need a ride tomorrow afternoon.'

'Yes, I'm going back, too,' Bingley observes, 'Caroline has been insufferable to Jane these last two days, and we promised Darcy we'd chaperone Georgie. I'm going to be a father myself, I'm afraid I've grown up.'

Not falling asleep is very difficult, and Anne is very thirsty, even with all she drank tonight. She knows where the potable water is kept, and everyone will be asleep by now. Decision made, Anne puts on her dressing gown and heads downstairs, through the hall and down again towards the kitchen. While she is here she may as well check on Nick, maybe it's better if they stay in his room with Felicity alert just one door from hers. After downing a large cup of water, she finds his little room and opens the door.

'You're here already! I was waiting to come over.'

Before she replies, she has to hold him and kiss him.

'I was thirsty, so I got myself some water from the kitchen. The cook told me which is good to drink. Shall we stay here? Felicity may be up all night and she may fetch you to help out. She won't disturb me.'

'You're smarter than I am, Miss Anne. I salute you. But first I'm going to undress you and kiss every inch of you, and then I'm going to make you squeal with passion.'

Yes. She wants that. Really. But first he rummages in a drawer of his only real piece of furniture, a pretty wardrobe. Why?

'Trust me, we may need this.' And he proceeds to do something with himself, down there. Suddenly she understands, he has told her all about it, even where to get it. And when he has done everything he promised her, leaving her panting with heat and burning inside, he lies on top of her, and says huskily, 'Now I've never done this before with someone untouched, my love. People say it may hurt, tell me if it does, I'll be more careful. Are you certain you want this?'

She knows he means well, but it's infuriating!

'Quit talking, Nick, get on with it. I'm suffering!'

He laughs and covers her with his broad, strong body, she has seen it in all its glory by the light of the moon, and she can smell it and feel it now. As his mouth kisses her again, his back arches and she can feel him enter her. It's a burning sensation, the burn of her heat inseparable from the burn of his size pushing its way in. There is something in there that is aching to be touched, and now it finally gets what it wants, and again, as he pushes again.

'It's pretty narrow, love, does it hurt?' He is so worried, so sweet. But he must not stop, he must plunge harder and faster, that place demands it of him.

'It did bit, but it's good as well. So good, I want more, give it to me, Nick!'

And he does, and she just has to make some noise, it's so good, and she needs more of it, right now!

She is only vaguely aware of how hard it is for him to keep it up, something is in charge of her and it offers her body to him, take it, give it more! The ecstasy mounts, and she has one of those releases, but it immediately builds back up, higher and higher, until he loses himself totally and thrusts like a wild thing, causing her another one of those highs. He shudders and collapses, and not just a little.

Anne is seriously afraid she has broken him, he's on top of her, unable to support himself on his arms, gasping for breath. His ribs, they cannot but suffer under his own weight. She tries pushing him on his back, but he is heavy and the cot is narrow, he may fall off. But he's really too heavy for her slight frame, so she takes hold of his jaws and says urgently, 'Nick, Nick, you need to get off your chest!'

He has found his voice back, thankfully.

'And of yours, my love, I'm sorry. For a moment there I couldn't do anything. I shouldn't have done this, yet, I wasn't ready. Let me do this carefully, or I'll spill my seed inside you after all.'

It does spoil the beautiful moment a bit, being squashed and having him spend almost a minute removing himself from her very, very carefully. But it's for an excellent cause, and he makes up for the businesslike moments by lying beside her afterwards, totally dedicated to her, his hands clutching her and his mouth kissing her as she loves so much. There is no shame, just love. She can still hear him heaving, he went too deep, for her, they should have waited but she wants to get married, to another man. Her eyes overflow, she does not want to leave him, she doesn't want anyone else.

'Anne, my dear, you're not crying are you? Did I hurt you? I'm so sorry, I'm really not strong enough yet to do this right. Or do you feel bad to have sinned?'

This wasn't sinful, Anne does not believe that. So much love between them, she is certain Nick loves her this very moment. It may not last, but right now he loves her as much as she loves him. He deserves to be loved, he is kind, smart, and he cares about people, even those who don't really deserve it.

'You didn't, love. It was great, I totally lost it. I just don't want it to end.'

'Then let us make it last, my love. Let's make this night last forever.

And merely lying in each other's arms does make it better. He manages to stay awake for another hour, though it's obviously hard for him. Anne decides to pretend they are married and meant to stay together forever, if it helps her to enjoy this night, she will pay for it gladly tomorrow when the truth sinks in. It proves the perfect solution, she is deliriously happy lying in the arms of her beloved, physically sated, his scent all around her, his voice soft as he whispers endearments in her ears. Finally they can do nothing else than give in to their fatigue, but at that moment they are both perfectly happy.

The cock crows.

This time, they snuggle almost desperately before they both get up. Nick dresses in a simple outfit, Anne dons her nightgown and her dressing-gown. Reluctantly, they leave the room, and go up two staircases, a narrow one and a grand one. In the hall they should part, but Anne just cannot. She pulls him into her own bedroom and kisses him one last, lingering time. Then he has to go, and she crawls into her own bed, still mostly very happy. She can hear him open the door of the girls' bedroom, and then he talks to someone in a low voice. Felicity must be awake, Anne hopes Nick will not get into trouble over this. But if he does, she knows Frederick will find him a new place. She wishes it could be at her side, but he cannot be claimed, and she is not even going to try. She has had his love for a night, and that will have to do. Tomorrow, she will move to her cousin's home.

But when Dora wakes her the next morning, she has worrying news for Anne.

'Fowler is back in bed, Miss, he must have overtaxed himself working yesterday night. He checked on the young ladies this morning, they are fine by the way, Felicity is really good with them, and when he knew about the ladies he went back to bed complaining of his chest hurting. Maybe you can go see him after breakfast, like you did when he first got hurt.'

She doesn't want to check on him after breakfast, she wants to do it now! It's her fault he's had a relapse. But there is no time, Dora has let her sleep well into the day.

After breakfast she finds Nick back in bed, looking very sad. She hugs him very carefully, she did this to him.

'It was the best night of my life, Miss,' he says softly. 'I have no regrets.' He will never call her 'love' or even just Anne again.

'I only regret seeing you like this,' she lies. Life will go on, he will have his ladies back, and she will have...plenty of things to do. Learn to play the piano, ramble through the city, talk for hours with interesting people. And if she does meet another man, Nick has told her exactly what to do, and what not to do.

'Thank you for everything, Nick.'

'Fare well, Miss.'

'Nick, we'll see each other at least once a week! And I'm not leaving until you're back to work.'

'But we'll get tempted again, Miss, and then my ribs will never heal.'

He wants her to go? Well, then there is nothing to keep her here. She'll send for Frederick and he can fetch her, to get to know each other better.

'I don't want to leave you like this, Nick.'

'But it's better for both of us, Miss. I'll be back to work tomorrow, you'll see. We have a concert planned.'

It will be hard to be strangers again, but he is right, she has to go. He can see she has accepted it, and they kiss one last, glorious time. She will be gone before dinner.

In the carriage with Frederick Anne allows herself a good cry, and when he offers to take her in his arms she does not hesitate. He even feels like Nick, but he doesn't smell right, not bad, he's wearing a very good cologne, but not like Nick.

'I've been sick with love, Anne, I know what it feels like. But don't despair, if we do decide to get married we'll find him a place in our household and you can be with him every night and a lot of moments of the day. You can even come to the continent with us, and pretend to be married, they'll believe anything, those Germans, or Austrians or whatever.'

He persists in believing Nick attached to herself, but he will soon find out Nick isn't like that. He'll have a pretty lady in his bed even before his ribs heal. But talking about it only makes things worse. She knew this was coming, and she will be a trooper. She made a fool of herself over a man once, it will not happen again.

'I'm looking forward to living with all of you, Frederick. And I've met another one of your terms: I conquered shame. And it was fabulous, though Nick did hurt his ribs again, poor chap. But he'll survive, like I will.'

Frederick seems to doubt that, but Anne knows they both will.

And her reception leaves nothing to wish for, there is music, there are long walks through town with Frederick and yes, with Simon, who seems to know everything about life in town. Well, almost everything, but Nick already told her some of the rest. She spends a lovely few days with her relatives and her potential fiancées, for she has come to see Simon as a marriage partner as well, and the separation from Nick hurts much less than she would have guessed. Being busy, and having two people who will hold her and comfort her when she feels low makes the difference. Of course it's hard to see him at concerts, back in his livery and herding his girls, but he looks fine, if a bit wistful whenever he catches her eye.

She doesn't meet another man she thinks she might like, neither gentleman nor servant, not even a reporter, the one Eric knows is a scruffy fellow, and as obsessed with music as Georgiana and Eric. Still those two lovebirds can be very entertaining, and they are both very patient teaching her to play. Quite naturally, Anne is included in their efforts to learn about finances, and Frederick offers to teach her German. Simon is practising his German on Eric, who has surprised her fiancées by solving some problem they were having with a certain translation by addressing them in fluent, accentless German.


	92. Chapter 92

Chapter 102

After a lovely Sunday spent at Pemberley, renewing acquaintance with its beautiful park and some of its inhabitants, and two more days of comfortable but ceaseless travel, Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam arrive in Newcastle. Their lodgings are quite a ways from the town itself, but rather close to the army camp where Wickham is stationed, though not at a rambling distance.

'The horses need their exercise anyway, and if we don't take the carriage Bob will be bored. Frankly, I suspect he likes arriving with these horses, and telling the staff of other houses about them.'

'But if you take Bob, poor Fanny will be bored instead.'

'Well, you take her along then. You know Manners has Simon spy for him, who knows what Lydia's maid has to tell Fanny that you would never find out on your own.'

So instead of their morals rubbing off on Frederick they are now going to adapt his methods? So be it, then. Elizabeth is sure it'll work perfectly, and Fitzwilliam can see his suggestion is well-received.

'But tonight we are not going anywhere, as soon as we reach the inn we are going to explore, and then we'll have a romantic dinner for two. I'm afraid I'll have to spend half an hour on sending messages, to Wickham's captain, and to the colonel of this camp, with uncle Spencer's compliments. Fitzwilliam's, too. But that can wait until it's dark, rambling first, to get the kinks out of our limbs. I feel like I'm stuck in angles from sitting on a carriage seat all day.'

Imagine how Bob and Fanny must feel, the box seat is a lot harder still, and it's cold out there. But they never complain, in fact they seem very content to be together all day.

By now, they can see a large city ahead, in the valley of a broad river. It seems they are nearing the coast, for the vegetation changes and there are gulls flying overhead most of the time.

'We're passing by the city as much as we can, we have no business there until tomorrow. We just need to cross the bridge. Our lodgings are in a little village called Whitley, it's right on the coast, but it's not very popular with those looking for a place to bathe, I've been told it's a mining village. Limestone and coal, apparently. Still, we'll be looking to Newcastle for our entertainment, and the army camp for business.'

'I'll be glad if it's just the two of us on the beach, my love, I'm sure we'll find something to do by ourselves. You know I've never seen the sea before, I'm looking forward to this very much.'

'You'll love it, Elizabeth, though at first you'll have to get used to the smell. I hope it won't be much worse in Whitley since it's mostly a mining village. They may be even more inclined to just dispose of their garbage into the sea, causing it to stink. In Brighton that is prohibited, local people make a lot of money out of visitors from all over the country coming there to bathe in the sea. Or just breathe in the sea wind. Or just visit stupid parties.'

'I've seen so little of the world, Fitzwilliam, I wish I had travelled before. But you can imagine my father didn't much feel like it.'

'With five daughters and your mother, it would be torture. And your father likes his known comforts, his books, his study. But you did go to Derbyshire with your aunt and uncle, and viewed all the great houses, I'm sure.'

'We did, yes. But Pemberley was the crown on all of them. Did I ever tell you I had a moment's regret over rejecting you when I realised how magnificent it was? I was quite put out with myself. But it passed quickly, until you noticed me, and treated me nicely.'

'I wish I had known. I so wanted to know what you thought of me, whether you still hated me so much.'

'I suppose I didn't think of that: when we met again in Derbyshire I already had an idea who you really were and regretted not knowing before. Then when you were nice to me I started to realise you were the perfect match for me. But I had the same doubts you had, I thought what happened must have surely made you resentful.'

'It seems ages ago, Elizabeth, but it's been no more than six months. If you want to, we can start travelling this summer. Go to Brighton, and didn't you want to see the Lakes?'

'I did. I still do, but it's not a very strong wish. I'm sure I'll be very happy at Pemberley with all our friends around. Let's enjoy this little trip first, I'm a bit afraid you'll find it a real burden, my love, having to face Wickham when you abhor him so much. And all for my foolish sister, who doesn't deserve that kind of attention at all.'

'Reminiscing with Anne has made me aware Wickham and I used to be good friends at one time, my love. For old times' sake I will do my best to have him promoted, despite the danger to him personally. And you know, he is a bit of a hero still, facing Grenfell at his worst.'

Their conversation is now hindered by the scenery outside: a beautiful vista is opening up to them, with the sea in the distance, a gentle rolling incline separating land and water, except for a little bay, where the land spreads out almost to sea level and a broad sandy beach shows itself. It's just beautiful.

'That's Whitley, Elizabeth, it's exactly as it was described to me: a tiny village with beautiful views. Our inn should be on the other side of the village, away from the bustle of a working community.'

Whitley looks way too picturesque to be a mining town, she cannot imagine why sightseers don't frequent this place, it's such a fine little village. The houses look not so much built by human hands as grown there of their own accord. As they draw nearer, she can see the painted shutters set off against the white walls, and the low walls surrounding the tiny gardens. There is a kind of path following the coastline in front of the houses, and Bob skilfully guides the horses across the rocky trail. Before Elizabeth has looked her fill of the endless sea stretching out in front of her, the carriage halts. They're here!

She looks out of the window on the other side, and nearly gasps in wonderment. This must be the most beautiful house she ever saw! It's standing on its own, a ways from the village itself, in an expanse of sturdy green-grey grass. There is not a tree in sight.

The house itself is built of the local white limestone, two stories high with windows shuttered against the sea wind. A sizeable turret stands on one side, covered with a beautiful slate roof, its windows spread over the whole width of the structure. The view must be spectacular. The house has nothing of the squareness most houses possess, it also seems to have just grown here, out of the limestone underlying the whole landscape, it must be a local style. It's in a state of perfect maintenance, and the garden is very neat. Elizabeth supposes there are few plants that can live in the salt-spray so close to the sea, and indeed the plants inside the garden are much the same as those outside.

'Oh Fitzwilliam, I think I'm in love!' she exclaims, and her beloved grins broadly. He did well.

And then he opens the door of the carriage, and she can smell it: the sea. It's indeed a unique smell, tangy, salty, but how did Fitzwilliam get the idea that it would take some getting used to? That it would be in any way unpleasant? This is wholesome and clean, and Elizabeth spends her first minutes outside the carriage just breathing.

Until the door opens and a robust woman in her forties strides towards them. She is dressed immaculately in dark wool with a white apron and a white cap. Her hair is still very dark, making her seem younger than she really is. Or, Elizabeth realises, the exposure to the salty wind and sun has aged her face beyond her years. She may in fact be somewhat younger than she looks.

Though she curtsies elegantly, this is not a humble villager receiving noble guests, Elizabeth guesses the people in this town are very self-sufficient and rather independent. Their hostess confirms this impression by greeting them heartily rather than reverently, as most of the inn staff have on their travels so far since they are travelling with an unmarked carriage and just a driver, no liveried attendants.

'Mr and Mrs Darcy, I presume?' she hails them, and as Fitzwilliam nods in acknowledgement, continues, 'you are very welcome here, sir, ma'am, my name is Esme Herbert, the proprietor of this quaint little place. My manservant will show your man the stables and bring in your luggage, while I will show you to your rooms. I've prepared my best suite for you, in the turret.'

And with brisk efficiency and great hospitality, though little deference to Fitzwilliam's status, she proceeds to show them the house, the dining-room, the communal room where her guests can meet. 'Most of my guests are on business here, and they like to sit together in the evenings and discuss coal or stone.' And then on to their own rooms, in the turret. To get from their sitting-room to their bedroom they have to climb a cast-iron stairs, but it's well-worth the effort: the turret indeed has windows all around it, and the view is spectacular.

Their hostess hands Fitzwilliam the keys to the premises, no butler here, and observes, 'My man will hand your man his own set of keys. I have assigned your maid a room at the back of the house, my staff quarters are not suitable for a lady's maid, as I said, I usually have businessmen staying here, with male staff only. Meals are included, though meeting you I wonder whether you will be joining us for dinner. We serve but simple fare.'

Fitzwilliam smiles, he is not used to baser accommodations like these, but he likes his landlady.

'We will gladly join you for breakfast every day, I suspect we will usually be away during lunch, and I expect we'll have to dine with connections once or twice. But we are planning to spend most evenings by ourselves, so we will be very pleased to have our dinner here. In the common room, with your other guests. We'll send word if we plan to dine outside the house. And Miss Herbert, we prefer simple fare, please do not put yourself out for our sakes.'

The landlady's face shows a sadness that follows well-worn lines, a great tragedy has befallen her recently.

'It's Mrs Herbert, Mr Darcy. I've been recently widowed, my late and much beloved husband left me this establishment and I'm keen to make it a success.'

Fitzwilliam bows to her, showing his sympathy, and says, 'I'm sorry to hear that, Mrs Herbert, please forgive me my mistake.'

'Well, I should have introduced myself correctly. And life goes on, Mr Darcy, living out here on the coast we see proof all day of our own insignificance compared to the majesty and endurance of nature.'

'You have the soul of a poet, Mrs Herbert,' he replies, 'if that is the effect of living here I'm certain we will enjoy our stay very much, despite having our own business to attend to. Thank you very much for your care.'

Mrs Herbert curtseys again, then leaves them in their room, where Fanny has arrived and is hanging out Elizabeth's dresses and Fitzwilliam's coats, to keep them from wrinkling.

'How did you find this place, love?' Elizabeth now asks, 'it's just perfect, I can't think why it's not overrun with travellers.'

'Fitzwilliam had it recommended to him by a fellow officer who used to be stationed here. Rightfully so, I guess, the view is stunning. Let's go out and explore, leave Fanny to work in peace.'

And they do go out for a long ramble, such good exercise after another two days sitting in a carriage. They go straight for the shore, find a path down the incline and reach the beach, much narrower here than closer to the village.

'The tide is high,' Fitzwilliam observes, stroking a tendril of hair from his face, this wind is making a nice mess out of his rather unkempt hair. Elizabeth has always thought having a valet a vanity, but Simon has convinced his master to let his hair grow a little longer and now it really does need some attention. Tomorrow Elizabeth will make an effort to tidy it up a little, maybe she cannot accomplish a shaking dog, but she can help him look less like a tramp in wind like this. He does look ravishing, and she stops to embrace and kiss him. That only takes a few minutes, and soon they are back at their walk, Elizabeth very glad she decided to wear her comfortable winter boots to keep her feet warm in the carriage. The sand is difficult to walk through, but Fitzwilliam knows beaches and he soon moves to where the sand is wet and a lot firmer.

'Look, my love, can you see the water receding?'

He points at a rock lying at the water's edge, and indeed, it gets more exposed as their walk continues past it.

'When we head back we will be able to find what the water left behind, shells, crabs, bits and pieces. It's great fun. Let's head to the village first, though, I want to see it from up close.'

Plodding through sand the village is much farther away than in a carriage with swift horses, but after ten minutes they reach the much broader beach, and the village alongside with it. They follow the beach to where it ends abruptly, the rise of the land behind it much steeper and protected from the sea with a stone rampart. And here Elizabeth finds out what Fitzwilliam meant with the smell of the sea, for mingled with the fresh, tangy breeze are some less pleasant odours, most notably those of dead fish and rotten garbage. Against the stonework the restless waves carry a load of dark green seaweed, whitish-yellow scum, vegetable peelings and undefinable muck. It looks rather gross and smells worse. Her beloved laughs at her expression of disgust and points towards the path running right on top of the rampart and the houses just behind it.

'They probably chuck their garbage and worse into the sea, and the tides first remove it, then deliver it right back to their doorstep. But I must admit this place smells less than some harbours I've been to, I suppose because there aren't that many people living here.'

It's worse in other sea-towns? Then Elizabeth doesn't know whether she wants to visit any of those!

They walk through the village, it's not that large so it doesn't take much time, then back towards their lodgings across the beach, the strip that the sea has just abandoned indeed littered with interesting finds. Some of the same muck they saw afloat, but also shells and driftwood, and in the pools left in the lee of some stray rocks they find little sea creatures, mainly crabs.

Elizabeth loves it here, and she can see her beloved relishing her child-like enthusiasm for the beach and the sea. Tomorrow she will need to see to Lydia, and poor Fitzwilliam will need to be nice to a lot of people including the hated George Wickham, but tonight they are truly on a holiday.

Darcy will thank Lydia Wickham twice for convincing her sister to come and see her. The first time for allowing them the chance to be by themselves again after months of constant company. And now, for bringing them here, where he has fallen in love all over again with his precious Elizabeth. Watching her picking up shells and poring over their delicate shapes and colours, lifting a little crab from a tidal pool and studying its tiny pincers and goggly eyes, hitching up her skirts to jump another pool, or skipping from rock to rock, he can feel his heart burst. This is what he always needed, a beloved companion to show him how to enjoy the smaller things in life, she is so good at just being alive! And she brings out the best in him, soon he is joining her quest for new discoveries, until she pokes him in his side then runs away as fast as her sturdy boots can carry her.

His coat muffles most of the poke, taking the effect of tickling out of it, and he manages to chase her straight away. She is fast, but she does want to be caught, and soon he has her and lifts her up against his chest, kissing her with all the love he feels for his lively little wife. A kiss like that turns into passion instantly, but it's nearly time for dinner, they will have to wait a bit to follow their feelings.

The look of love in her eyes causes his heart to skip a few beats, and she caresses his face and hair, saying, 'If Simon could see you like this he would be appalled. Your hair is everywhere.'

'I'm sure Simon would be very pleased to see me relaxed and supremely happy, my love. But then he would fetch a comb and get it back into disorder. You may try to take his place if you feel I need to look more dignified, but for my part I don't care what my hair looks like. I care about you, and only you.'

They kiss again, then reluctantly leave the beach to head back to their guesthouse, where they refrain from dressing for dinner. There is no time, and this is a totally different world, most of the other guests are way too busy to change their dress several times a day. Despite sharing the dining-room with several other guests, all men, all sitting at the same large table discussing business matters, dinner is very romantic. They have their own table and they have a lovely view of the sea. The food is fine, and it's very easy to just be a young couple very much in love.

When Eric suggests he skip his meetings with his music-loving friends until Elizabeth and Darcy have returned, Georgiana is glad he considers her, but, 'There's no need, Eric. Before Fitzwilliam married I was by myself most of the time, I have no need for constant companionship. As long as I have my piano I will never be lonely. You just go and have them praise you, and tell me what they said about my performance when you are back. I insist, Eric, I'm not frail or simple minded. Go to your friends, and I'll read a book, or play with my friend Buntebart.'

Well, he cannot stay in now, it'd be an insult to his fiancée, so he kisses her goodbye and leaves.

But as it turns out, Georgiana will not have much time to practise during Eric's absence, for Anne is at home, as is Frederick. They are both in the drawing-room when Georgiana enters, and since she hasn't had the time to ask Frederick how the wedding was, she does so now.

'Do you really want to know, Georgiana?' he returns the question, and actually, she does.

'I've known Caroline Bingley for a very long time, Frederick, she was always there. I'd like to know that she's not too unhappy.'

Frederick looks faintly guilty, good, she stuck up for him but not exactly because she agreed with him, or even with the harsh things she said about Caroline. That was just because she felt something awful was going to happen if she didn't point out to Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth that they didn't even like Caroline Bingley.

'I admit I went too far in my meddling, I see that now. But it's done, and I hope for the best. The bride looked spectacular, and the groom as much so. She was as mean as ever, about Elizabeth, still pretending Darcy is her victim. Everyone got staggeringly drunk, except for myself, Lascelles, Bingley and Jane and Kitty, of course. And old Mrs Grenfell, who was only mildly tipsy, which was a miracle since she was usually drunk before dinner. Then the next day, the bride looked smug and the groom vaguely disappointed, though that may have been my prejudice. Anyway, she'll learn, he has plenty to teach her, and she'll keep an eye on him and make over his house and garden. We'll see them in London next season, better lock up all the virgins.'

He doesn't seem to be as protective of his friends anymore, something must have happened to him after nearly falling out with Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam.

'Simon gave me an earful on top of all else,' he confesses. He must have read her mind again. Anne of course has no idea what they are talking about, so they explain together.

'You told me a few things about your college friends, Frederick, but I didn't know you were still seeing them.'

'I was, but I'm not anymore. Bingley, Lascelles and myself decided independently from each other we have outgrown the friendship. It's time to settle. I never got to party anyway, didn't like the girls, couldn't drink spirits, if they knew about me and Simon they'd kill me. I was more their father than anything else.'

'It happens sometimes. Suddenly you realise you're too old for certain company.'

Her cousin seems really sad all of a sudden, has she had a falling out with her friends?

'You mean those cute girls, Anne? They do seem rather flighty. Is that why you came to live with us, did you quarrel?'

She shakes her head, 'No, we're still friends, it's just like Frederick said, I've outgrown the friendship. I still like them, and I don't mind hanging out with them, but they have other interests than I. I feel ages old when I'm around them.'

'You are much smarter than I, Anne, it took me ten years to realise I had outgrown my friends, you found out in a week.'

'Well, you can't be smart at everything, Frederick,' Georgiana observes, noticing that Anne has become really close to their friend, she is very much at ease touching his arm lightly to support him in what truly seems to be a difficult moment. But why she seemed to be a little sad for a moment is still a mystery, and since Anne has a right to her privacy, that will probably remain just so.

Frederick laughs and offers, 'You're so right, Georgiana, but I cannot like finding that out about myself.'

They talk a little more, Georgiana very aware of things going on between Anne and Frederick, though not romantically, but they do not exclude her. On the contrary, she learns a lot more about her cousin and her friend, and when Eric returns she hasn't even had time to miss him. She can see straight away he has some news, and he takes just enough time to kiss her before he tells them.

'Goodfellow had a very exciting visitor for me today, my love! Unbeknownst to me, Mr Clementi was at the Renaissance lecture, the man who builds those pianos! Goodfellow had invited him on a whim, not really expecting him to turn up, he is a very busy man. But he did, and he loved my interpretation of the Renaissance music. He was so kind and we talked and talked. He offered to help me out with lessons, he loves teaching and would have taken me on before, but Mr Zumpe would not have wanted me to go to him for lessons because they are competitors building pianos. Of course he plays and composes in a different style from where I'm going, but that doesn't matter, any technical support will help me get ahead. He is coming here tomorrow, he wants to hear me play my concerto on my Zumpe, and then we'll go there the next time to use one of his pianos.'

That is just awesome! Eric so deserves to take the next step, and she is certain Fitzwilliam will be prepared to sponsor the cost of such a tutor. They always assumed Mr Clementi would refuse to teach Eric, much to their disappointment, for he has many contacts all over Europe and many of his students reach incredible heights of proficiency.

'Congratulations, Eric,' Frederick says, eyes shining. 'This will be your big break, I'm sure.'

Such good luck, lessons on the level Eric needs, and right here in London. She is certain she will not sleep a wink that night.

The next day is exciting for Anne, too, for the day of the outing to Fitzwilliam's camp has arrived. Dora is teasing Anne's long blond hair into a wealth of little ringlets.

'You don't think it's too much trouble, Miss, for an outing with mere officers? We wouldn't want you to look overdressed, but I so wanted to try this technique.'

But Anne wants to look her best today, and she is trying not to admit to herself that is not for the officers' benefit. Fortunately, Frederick has been invited to attend, which means Anne will have his broad shoulder to lean on if things get painful. For today she will not be able to avoid Nick; however unconventional, he serves his young ladies as their chaperone and he will be part of their group the entire night.

'I think you are doing a great job, Dora. I'm sorry there is no other lady's maid here, it must be a bit boring for you after having Felicity around all the time.'

Putting the finishing touches on Anne's hair, Dora chats easily enough, 'I do miss Felicity, Miss, being so afraid together did give us a certain bond. But in a few weeks Mrs Darcy's maid will be back, and Simon is terrific company. He knows a lot about ladies' fashion, Miss, did you know he does Miss Darcy's toilette until Fanny returns? Actually, he told me how to make these little ringlets. If Fowler hadn't told us it was a bad idea to date within a household, I'd fall in love with Simon, he's so handsome. Mr Darcy doesn't mind his servants dating, for Fanny is going to marry his driver.'

Brave Bob, with the stunning maid. Better discourage Dora from trying to follow their example.

'I think Nick is a very sensible man, Dora, and what he says is wise. One cannot compare a fellow like Brave Bob to a handsome valet like Simon. Nor a charmer like Nick. Bob will stick to Fanny like a tick on a sheep. Those other two are likely to trade sweethearts like a shepherd trades sheep. Far more chance of awkward situations developing.'

Like Anne will have today. And awkward doesn't describe what she will be feeling when she sees Nick again. Agony is more likely. Heartbreak at the very least. But Anne has her will, and living in this wonderful household with people who encourage her in everything has primed it even further. Uncle Spencer's note that her fortune is secure and he has bullied his sister into refraining from meddling with her inheritance has helped, too. Today she will use her will to refrain from showing the world how much parting with Nick has hurt her. She will not avoid him, he has always treated her fairly and she still loves him dearly, she is in fact very eager to know how he is faring. But no-one will know how her heart throbs and how her throat burns when she sees that burly shape with his charming ways and his kind brown eyes. Well, except Frederick. He'll hold her and tell her Nick loves her dearly and all will be fine. She wants to believe that, but the holding part really is enough to make it better until the next time she sees Nick.

'You are very smart, Miss, and Fowler is, too, so I guess I'll just be friends with Simon and wait for my own Brave Bob to show up. Brave Bob! I'll always think of him that way from now on, I never realised a driver must be a brave man.'

'And very decided, Dora,' Anne teases, 'those four horses all have a mind of their own, and they each weigh more than four times what a man does. Drivers almost have to be a little bossy.'

'I don't mind, Miss,' says the girl dreamingly, 'I kind of like my men a little bossy. Like Fowler. Your Mr Manners can be bossy, too, I've heard.'

Dora, of course, knows there is something going on between Frederick and Anne, though she has not asked. But it can't hurt to tell her some things.

'Isn't he, Dora? You may as well know that he has proposed marriage to me, Dora. We're just getting to know each other before I decide. But I'd like that to stay between you and me until we know for certain.'

Dora is very serious, this will be a good test for her. If she manages not to tell this huge bit of news to anyone, Anne will keep her until the girl wants to move on herself.

'Mr Manners! He's old, and not as handsome as Mr Darcy or Mr Fielding, but he is very much admired by everyone, Miss. They say he knows the King personally. And still he is nice, and so very respectful to you.'

But now it's time to finish up her dress, or they will have to hurry. Can't leave poor Fitzwilliam by himself with a gaggle of adolescent girls. Of course he'll have Nick to help him.

Anne can feel herself blush, and when she looks in the mirror to check Dora's work she is stunned. What did Mr Blackwood say? That she'd soon be so beautiful she'd turn up her nose at everyone except a Royal? Well, that time is close. She must be approaching her ideal weight, for her boundless appetite has fallen off. No longer does she need support or rest after a long walk, and she is thinking of taking up another form of exercise, riding will be a bit difficult in town, but maybe fencing. Frederick will know. He is indeed waiting for her in the hall, and shows the proper appreciation for Dora's exertions.

'All this for a mere tour of an army camp? Miss de Bourgh, you have to stop growing more beautiful by the day, or I will have to retract my offer to you: I cannot marry the most beautiful woman in the world, my own failings in that direction would become too pronounced. The world would scorn me for taking its most coveted prize.'

'Oh, hogwash, Frederick. You don't mind at all, as long as I have the wits to help you play your games. Though attracting too much attention may foil that as well...maybe I should let Dora mess up my hair or paint a few moles in my face. Now what kind of physical exercise would you advise me to take up? I'm starting to feel a need to really exert myself. Riding, or fencing?'

'If you want to be married to a gentleman, riding. It's not even considered exercise, but more like a survival mechanism: ride or be left behind most of the day. But it's difficult to teach in the middle of the city, though Elizabeth's Daisy must be getting bored in the stables. We could make a start I suppose. No wait! I'll find you a riding school! The city-folk riding there will be boring, but the staff... Dozens of handsome young men, sensitive to their high-strung charges, but still firm in their handling of noble, temperamental creatures.'

He is enjoying himself hugely, he probably wouldn't mind checking out those stable boys himself.

'And fencing halls, of course the instructor is a dominant man in his fifties, too old for you, but his charges will be brash young men of good fortune. No, too much competition for me, better not go there. Riding it is!'

He is funny, Anne's apprehension lessens noticeably. The camp is outside town of course, and they have arranged to meet the other party, cramped together in Mr Blackwood's carriage as usual, at their mansion. There are no servants outside the carriage, but she knows Nick will be there. He's probably still inside the house, making some last-minute arrangements for the girls. A knock on the window behind her has her turning towards it, and there he is, smiling broadly. He opens the door and addresses Frederick respectfully but jovially, 'Good day, Mr Manners! Mr Blackwood is joining us at the request of Colonel Compton, and I noticed him looking a bit daunted at the prospect of sharing a carriage with four chatting girls. It's not that far, but they can be a bit maddening. May I offer him a seat in your carriage, to save his mental faculties?'

Frederick appreciates Nick's easy manners, Anne can see that even though she's rather overcome by the sight of her former lover.

'You certainly may, Fowler. But it won't be very entertaining for poor Miss de Bourgh to be stuck in a carriage with two old men talking politics and business. Can you by any chance fit her in with your charges? She doesn't take up too much space.'

As if unaware of her presence until now, Nick turns around, then stares at her open mouthed. What is it, she hasn't grown horns, has she? Aware of the rudeness of his stare, Nick closes his mouth and swallows hugely.

'Miss de Bourgh, I'm sorry, that was rude. But you look like a princess, I was just stunned for a moment. Please forgive me.'

Anne wants to laugh and cry at the same time. So he noticed. But most of all she wants him to take her to his little hide-out, or anywhere but here, and make love to her, give her those little kisses, and some larger ones as well. Look at her with those smouldering brown eyes. What does Frederick think he's doing? Murder her with shame and unrequited love? She can't even refuse, that would hurt Nick, despite his confidence.

Her voice obeys her, barely, as she manages a reply, 'Thank you Nick. For the compliment. You look very well yourself. I think Frederick wants me to ride with the girls, and it's their outing after all. If you don't mind.'

'I'm sure they will be glad to have you, Miss. They have missed you, you know.' His unspoken 'And I have, too,' makes her heart skip a beat. As does his hand on hers, assisting her out of the carriage. Frederick is pleased, another one of his schemes, but this one is hurting her.

Then her iron will asserts itself again, and before they reach the other carriage she has settled her feelings to a mere interest in how he is doing. The exchange of passengers is made, Mr Blackwood's relief obvious, and thus Anne spends the trip to the army camp telling her friends how life is at Mr Darcy's house, in Nick's hearing.

'Imagine getting piano lessons from Mr Fielding,' one of the girls sighs enviously.

'I'm doing it right now,' Nick remarks, a lot less deferentially than he used to be towards his charges, knowing he's his master's favourite has given him a little more confidence, 'and I guess it may be less pleasant than you might think, Miss Maria. He strikes me as a man obsessed.'

'You are so right, Nick!' Anne is pleased to find him as perceptive as he used to be. Well, it's been less than a week, how much can a man change in such a short time? 'He is quite a demanding teacher. But he means well, and Miss Darcy does call him to order every so often and then he makes a beautiful apology. Did you know he can sing like an angel?'

The girls nearly swoon, but Nick, obviously, is rather impervious to Mr Fielding's charms.

'I can see you're happy, Miss de Bourgh, and I'm glad of it. It seems we have all been missing you a lot more than you've missed us.'

It's true. Anne has only missed Nick, horribly, but she has dismissed the pain and resumed her life. Certainly Frederick, Simon, Georgiana and Eric are better company than these flighty girls. She would not return to their house for any amount, she'd rather take Nick with her. But he looks just fine, he has probably forgotten all about her already, his bed warmed by some experienced lady of means.

'I'm certainly going to enjoy your company today, we'll have such a good time at the camp. All these younger sons waiting to dance with us. But Nick, how have you been? When I left you were still abed, are your ribs healed? Your eyes look much better anyway.'

He bends towards her, if only he were to kiss her right now, she can smell a whiff of his tantalizing scent, but he merely points at his face and says, half ashamed, half laughing, 'They wouldn't let me come unless I let them powder the bruises. Said soldiers would scorn me for getting beaten.'

Before Anne can help it her hand is stroking that once-blemished cheek, now largely healed, she can indeed see some green and yellow spots beneath a layer of powder. He leans into her touch, and offers her his most bedazzling smile. 'Can you see it from your seat? I tried to tell them soldiers scorn a man wearing powder more than anything, but they wouldn't budge. And I wanted to come, to see you.'

She takes hold of his chin with her hand, to hide her loving gesture beneath some bluster, and turns his face left and right, peering at him. 'I didn't see a thing until you told me. It's hard to spot even knowing. I think you're safe from the soldiers. And you know my cousin is their colonel, they have to obey him. How are your ribs, did they powder those, too?'

His charming remarks are so confusing, but they do prove he is a ladies' man to the core. Does he remember their night together with any special feelings? He said it was the best night of his life, but he probably tells all the women he sleeps with exactly the same.

He shakes his head ruefully.

'Alas, it takes much longer for ribs to heal. But I've been taking it slowly, and they hurt a little less every day.'

She suddenly remembers his powerful chest heaving for breath, just after their lovemaking. But no! This is not the time. She'll remember that tonight, in her lonely bed. Now, she is going to entertain these girls, they have taught her how to enjoy life and she is going to repay them by offering them a chance to meet eligible men. And then she will see them from time to time, but she has grown beyond their company and will not be staying over with them anymore. That does sound arrogant, even to herself. What if she's just afraid to witness Nick taking one of his conquests across the hall and through that little door to the attic?

'So, do you all like officers, girls?' she asks lightly.

And with the gushing over red coats, polished buttons, glossy boots and noble, clean-cut faces they manage to fill the rest of the drive to the camp. Nick has fallen silent, no-one expects him to contribute to a discussion on the merits of soldiers as lovers and husbands. It almost seems as if she loves him, wants to touch him. But it's no use, they can never be together and she knows it, is moving on. He was a fool to want to see her again, there is only hurt in store for him. And for her, if she indeed loves him. She is so beautiful it hurts inside, to think she let him touch her, let him take her virginity, and then he bungled it with those damned broken ribs. He'd so love to have a chance to redeem himself, but it is a recipe for disaster to try to get it. Better a clean break than a festering wound, for both of them. He will avoid her after this, it'll be easy enough, she's obviously moving in better circles now than his young mistresses.

Hanging back while the young officers introduce themselves, Nick finds himself joined by Mr Manners. Even though he knows Miss Anne will probably marry him, a philanderer according to her, he cannot help liking the man. A lot of people have told Nick at different times that he has that same quality, even though Wellesley seemed to disagree. Maybe the quality goes with the vice.

'Watching these introductions, Fowler, don't you get the impression that Colonel Compton has low self-esteem?'

The colonel looks confident enough, greeting his cousin with almost the same reaction Nick evidenced: open-mouthed stupefaction. But Nick doesn't believe Mr Manners refers to the man's posture, one doesn't become a colonel of the British army without being confident and competent. It has to be more subtle. But the gentleman does not explain, he is waiting for Nick to observe the scene and draw his own conclusions. Nick feels as if he is being tested, and is surprised by his own determination to pass this unknown test.

The officers Colonel Compton has chosen for the tour are all young, reasonably handsome, and they seem very polite and well-behaved. Of course they are from excellent families, marriage material for girls like Miss Sophie and Miss Angelina. He must have had close to a hundred to choose from, so why did he pick these five? That's it! Either the colonel expects to be called away on duty, or he has arranged a young and handsome gentleman to partner each girl because he thinks he does not qualify as marriage material for these young ladies himself. That does signify low self-esteem.

But what if the colonel is engaged? And... Nick trusts Mr Manners' kindness enough to dare offer his conclusion in as cryptic a shape as the latter framed his question.

'In that case, Mr Manners, you may consider yourself insulted, for there is no girl left for you either.'

A hearty slap on the back causes him to cringe in pain. He's still covered in healing bruises and his ribs may be broken in front, they're attached to the back rather firmly! Two large hands now hold him up front and back, very gently, keeping Nick from making a spectacle of himself by buckling.

'I'm ever so sorry, Fowler, I totally forgot you've been seriously injured so recently! You look very hale, but I guess that's our build, broad and strong. Are you all right?'

Nick is heaving for breath, it's so damned inconvenient, broken ribs. They don't show, but they sap a man's strength for weeks. Mr Manners ignores his moment of weakness, apparently that's a universal trait, an unspoken agreement between men of all classes. If a fellow is suffering, give him time to recover and don't draw attention to his weakness. Fill up the man's involuntary silence with small-talk.

'I meant that as a complimentary slap, Fowler, not a brutal correction. I hope you got that, or you'd find me cruel even without the extra hurt from your previous injuries. I was raised, well, actually we raised ourselves, in a clique of gently-bred boys sent to school at an early age. We were a rough lot. A cuff to the head was a friendly greeting and a punch in the kidneys a sign of affection. Somehow that kind of education tends to rear up when one is really impressed by another chap. Do you think I'm right?

Do you think the colonel expects neither of us to have a chance at one of these ladies?'

Does he know Miss Anne told Nick about his proposal? It doesn't matter, he's going to use the time he cannot speak well by thinking up the most diplomatic reply of his life, proving this gentleman he can hold his tongue, and that Nick may be just a servant, but one who was raised by a mother and father who taught him the value of empathy.

'Thank you sir. Not for clouting me, but for considering me worth clouting, and for covering for me. It's the broken ribs, you see. They take about a quarter of my strength but only if nothing untoward happens. Since you ask, Mr Manners, I think the colonel may have chosen five men to allow the girls some choice, including the two of you as potential partners. But he may consider the girls beneath your notice, for these girls aren't poor, but they're not rich either, nor are they of the best families. Or much educated. Not good enough for a man of your class and connections. Excepting Miss de Bourgh of course, but she is in a way the hostess, not here to find a partner herself. Still, she does need an officer to chat and dance with.

As for himself, he may expect to be called away since he's leader of this camp, he may already be engaged, or he may indeed consider himself too old or too plain to interest young girls like these. Personally, I think he just isn't interested in them, he seems totally unaffected by any of these pretty eligible girls. And he's so kind and so concerned with Miss de Bourgh, it's as if he has had some kind of tragedy in his life.'

'Damn but you're good!'

Mr Manners also seems less careful with his language than the gentlemen Nick knows.

'It's true, you know, he had a preference for a very superior young lady, but they were both penniless, and eventually she married someone else. Only then did he realise what he had lost, he never even tried to win her, he just let her go. Now I guess he compares every woman to the one he still loves, and only Miss de Bourgh can measure up. He is the one who saved her from living death.'

Poor Miss Anne, dying by inches because her mother wanted to fornicate.

'With the risk of insulting you, sir, why are you telling me this? I'm just a servant.'

'Despite clobbering you half to death, Fowler, I like you. I'm not as attached to rank as some of my class, I've found I prefer intelligent company. I had high hopes of your capacities in that area and you're no disappointment, on the contrary, I like you even more now. Maybe we can hang out a little today, even the score for the young officers so to speak.'

Miss Anne must have told Mr Manners about him, and some good things, apparently. That is gratifying. She doesn't seem to reproach him for anything, which is even better. He wouldn't want to have this man and her cousin running to her rescue. But still he wonders why there is an officer for Miss Anne, she's with Mr Manners, isn't she?

'I'm afraid there is one officer too many at the very least, sir.'

See what he makes of that.

'You mean for Miss de Bourgh? You are so right, I know for a fact that her affections are engaged, though she is not ready to acknowledge it, yet. But that is no problem, there is plenty of time, she will discover where her heart lies eventually. A little bit of hardship never killed anyone.'

That's what you get when you try to be smart. You hear something you don't want to. Is Mr Manners referring to himself? Does he think Miss Anne loves him? Does he think he will conquer her eventually?

'I wouldn't dare presume to know Miss Anne's heart, sir. No, I'm referring to the colonel. He has drawn the innocent eye of one of my charges, Miss Sophie. Miss Anne was there when she bemoaned being unable to catch his attention. Miss Sophie is sweet, smarter than she looks and very faithful. A man could do worse than a girl like her. Also she has ten thousand pounds to her name.'

'If she is sweet and innocent, she's probably in love with you first of all. Don't you fancy an independence?'

'Now, sir, I know my place. I grew up in the streets of London, not in poverty, but there were no riches either. I'm not a suitable husband for a gentle young lady.'

'But she loves you?'

'Like she adores Mr Fielding, yes. But I'm not into girls, I prefer the company of women. Miss Sophie is like a sister to me.'

'Too bad, for from what Mr Blackwood told me in the carriage just now he would consider you as a son-in-law. He thinks very highly of you.'

Nick is stunned.

'You cannot be serious. This is one of your college-kids jokes.'

'Somehow, Fowler, I feel as if I'm done with college humour forever, and no loss. I would never presume to draw you out on false pretences. Mr Blackwood really thinks you are good enough to marry one of his daughters. He'd expect you to come work in his business, as a partner, not a clerk or guard. It's a great chance to improve yourself.'

It wouldn't have made the slightest difference if he had known.

'It's just not possible. Miss Sophie is like a sister to me, I could never love her like that. Even before...' That thought is just too painful to utter, even if he was free to do so in his current company. This man is way too smart for Nick.

'It's good to know, though. He never even hinted it to me, though I know Mr Blackwood likes me.'

Mr Manners nods, as if he expected as much.

'Well then, we'd better do our best to have the colonel notice the young lady, so she can see what her chances are. What did you advise her to do?'

Good, he didn't notice Nick's slip of the tongue.

'I told her not to try and look smart, but to be sweet because that what she is. And to sing for him.'

'Better still, his standard for smart is out of reach. Advise her not to sing any folk-songs either. Anything else, great idea, but no folk-songs, not even if he asks. Trust me, I know him rather well, as far as any man can ever get to know another man well. And Fowler...don't despair. There are more ways than one to skin a cat.

Now let's follow our company and see how His Majesty takes care of his troops.'

So he did hear? And he knows who spoiled Nick for other women, all other women? Yet he thinks there is hope? Well that is easy for a rich gentleman to say, but Nick knows how the real world works.


	93. Chapter 93

Chapter 103

Elizabeth has asked Fanny to keep it simple today, she does not want to walk to an afternoon visit in the outskirts of Newcastle looking like an icon of fashion. She begs her maid to help her sort out Fitzwilliam's hair instead. And a good thing that is, for when they are both dressed and Elizabeth picks up her own brush to tackle her husband's hair explosion, Fanny has to intercede.

'No, ma'am, please don't brush the master's hair!'

Fanny is no longer afraid to gainsay her mistress if she feels she is in the right, and to have her call out so impetuously, it must be important.

'I'm sorry, ma'am, to be so rude, but if you brush the master's hair it will frizz until he looks like a chimney brush. I saw Simon do it once, do you remember, sir? But Simon knows how to set it to rights, I don't.'

'Now you mention it, Fanny, I do remember. I like the feeling of having my hair brushed, especially by my most beloved lady, but on second thought maybe we should refrain from making me look like a mop. What do you propose we do, Fanny? I can't go out looking like this, either.'

Fanny curtsies, she is still very much impressed by her dignified, and handsome, master.

'Simon actually told me what to do, sir, and he carefully packed everything I need. He said, 'I trust you to make the master look dignified but at the same time ravishing, Fanny.'

You can comb the master's hair instead of brushing it, if you like, ma'am? Then I'll fetch the jars with the product I need.'

Combing is not as much fun as brushing, but maybe it's better Elizabeth tackles the knots a stroll on the beach, the salt wind and a frisky tumble on their bed yesterday night, and this morning, have caused to form. Fanny will be afraid to hurt her master, though Simon certainly never is.

'No pain, no gain, sir,' she has heard him say bluntly when Fitzwilliam complained over his rough combing, 'for you and me both. Your vanity has me slaving away to make your hair look as if you've overslept, when you insist on getting up early.'

Well, Elizabeth is going to be very gentle with her beloved, she does not want to hurt him, he is sweet and cute, and the way he looked at her last night at the beach and again this morning is precious. She does not want to spoil that by pulling his hair. Talking to Wickham's colonel and his captain will be enough bother for one day.

When she has one side of his head combed through and free of knots, he looks up at her with infatuation and says, 'That's almost as enjoyable as brushing, my love. When Simon combs my hair he sometimes pulls on it, then tells me to stop complaining if I so much as twitch. But what can I do? Nobody can tie a cravat like he does.'

'He's shown me how to do that, too, sir,' Fanny says cheerily. 'If I manage to do it as well as he does it, you can threaten to sack him. That'll put him to rights.'

Well, well, Fanny seems to be gaining some courage, and rather quickly. Though she should know by now that her master has a weakness for impertinence, even from his personal servants. Under the right circumstances.

'Well then, Fanny, I can't wait to see how you'll manage. I've been wanting to scold Simon for ages, but he has me in his power with all these concerts and official functions I need to visit, looking my best. And I'll judge my hair before exposing it to these vile sea breezes, I bet they'll have it tangled up again in a second.'

But Fanny obviously has an opinion on that as well, and she fearlessly tackles her master's smoothly combed hair with nothing but her small hands and a dab from one of the jars. And under Elizabeth's astounded gaze, a veritable shaking dog comes into existence within seconds, a dab from the other jar perfecting it.

Fanny gives one approving look at her handiwork, then washes her hands and fetches a clean cravat. A little shyly, she tucks it under Fitzwilliam's collar and around his neck, a rather intimate operation for a young girl like her. Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam ignore her faint blush, it wouldn't do to tease her when she is trying so hard, and it soon fades when she gets to the actual tying.

When she is done, Fitzwilliam is impressed, and so is Elizabeth. It's not up to Simon's standard, but it's better than Fitzwilliam can do by himself. Fanny is not pleased with her own work.

'I think I need some more practice, sir, before you can start scolding Simon. But I suppose there are no reporters here?'

'Fanny, you're a prize,' Fitzwilliam says. 'The hair is just perfect, and the cravat is perfectly fine. I couldn't have done it better myself, not by far. Thank you very much. I suppose we'll all find out soon how the hair holds up under the breeze outside.

Now for some breakfast, I'm starving.'

During breakfast, they decide on a time that Fitzwilliam will fetch Elizabeth back from her sister's apartment, if his interview with Colonel Drummond ends sooner he will have to amuse himself for an hour or so. Elizabeth has sent word to her sister of her arrival, so she expects Lydia to be in today, awaiting her visit eagerly, but of course one never knows with Lydia. Therefore Fitzwilliam will accompany her to her sister's front door and wait until she is admitted before he drives off.

Lydia is in and eagerly opening the door when they arrive in the outskirts of Newcastle where she and many of the other officers' wives have their private quarters. Fitzwilliam quickly kisses her and is off to his own appointment, and Lydia falls into her sister's arms, crying. Lydia's maid takes Elizabeth's coat and leads her to the drawing-room, Elizabeth supporting her sister, then the maid takes the coat and Fanny with her, supposedly to the kitchen to make some coffee for her mistress.

The room is small and poorly furnished, the style of the furniture reminding Elizabeth of the Earl's house, but sadly not of the same quality, it's all a bit worn. It's shocking to see the circumstances in which her sister is living, but Lydia doesn't seem to mind at all and her maid, her only help, seems a pleasant kind of girl.

'Oh, dear Lizzy I'm so glad you came! And you brought your maid, I didn't think you'd ever be so vain to do that!' Eyeing Elizabeth critically, she observes bluntly, 'But you may need to find yourself another girl, Lizzy, this is not what I expected the famously well-dressed Mrs Darcy to look like. You were dressed ever so much better on Jane's wedding, are people that easily impressed in London?'

Lydia will never change. A minute before she is crying her eyes out, and now she is positively insulting! But Elizabeth is no longer responsible for her sister's behaviour, so she merely observes, 'I'm on a holiday, Lydia, I'm not going to ramble on the beach in my best dress. I'd freeze to death!'

'You'll never freeze in that beautiful coat you were wearing! That is priceless fur on the collar! Your coat at least will strike envy in the heart of every local girl.'

They talk a little about where they are staying, and how the trip was. Then the maid enters with coffee and a few sweet treats, and retreats immediately afterwards, leaving the pouring to Lydia herself. Which she manages admirably, and with a cup of coffee in her hand she asks, 'So how are Jane and Kitty? I was so sad not to be able to attend Kitty's wedding. Such an handsome man, Mr Lascelles, though he is not as handsome as my dear Wickham. I didn't tell him you were coming, it'll be such a surprise for him when he gets home to hear you've been here! He is out with his men, you know, he always is, except on Sundays. Then he reads, books on strategy, boring stuff. Or he goes out with friends, I don't know what they do, but he comes back sweating. I suppose it's not things one should do on a Sunday, though. He never goes to church with me either, I always go to the local church with Abbey, her family lives here. She has a lot of little brothers and sisters, and they all like me very much.'

That is as good a place to start as Elizabeth can think of, and she says gently, 'Will you tell me what happened, Lydia?'

Lydia's face grows uncharacteristically bleak, and she starts to speak mechanically.

'Everything was going well, Wickham said you'd talked to him and convinced him all would be well with my friends helping me out. He promised he'd hire a nanny to help me with caring for our baby, and I was very happy and didn't even mind his being away all the time. I had Janet, and Prissy and

Irene, my friends, and Abbey is very nice.

But then one day I started to bleed down there, it was really bad, and after some time I got really bad cramps. Abbey sent for Wickham, who sent for a doctor. The doctor said I was losing the baby and had Wickham send for the midwife. Janet came to help, and she stayed with me when the midwife told Wickham to leave. I didn't want him to but I was in such pain and she did not brook resistance. Then after hours and hours I got the baby, and lost a lot more blood besides. Of course the little thing was dead, and the midwife took it away. She said it was better off dead, and I should not see it. But Janet saw him and she said he was a boy, but he was not right. He didn't look like a proper child at all, she said, but she also said she had never seen a baby that young before so maybe they were all crooked and skinny. Janet is very smart, Lizzy, you'll like her.

Anyway, I wasn't done, for there was the afterbirth yet to come, and when that was born the midwife took it away, too, and had Abbey clean me up and then she said to keep really clean until the bleeding stopped, and not, you know, make love until then. Said it could kill me if I did.

The next day I had a fever and I still bled a lot, and Wickham stayed with me and was very sweet and worried. The next day the fever was gone but the bleeding went on for three weeks. I felt very weak for a month, and though Wickham went to work after two days he was still very nice. Then I felt much better but I was still very sad. I'm still sad, Lizzy, for I was hoping to have a boy, and I don't understand why I had to lose my baby when I wanted him so much, and Abbey's mum says she has neighbours who have baby after baby and don't want them anymore but still they keep coming.'

Poor Lydia, such serious thoughts from her flighty sister, and in such a shabby place. Why did she make such a foolish decision, marrying a penniless nobody? Had she waited six more months, she would have had every chance of making a match with a gentleman of some means on Jane's wedding, and a year later she could have come to Eric's concerts and met the cream of London society. Why Wickham? But still Lydia only seems unhappy because she lost her baby boy, and even Elizabeth can feel the tragedy in that. To carry new life within your own body and then have it torn from you, that is just plain cruel.

'If I show you something, Lizzy, will you promise not to laugh?'

Well, that's easy, there is nothing to laugh about losing a baby. She nods in acknowledgement, and Lydia walks through a different door than the one through which they came in. She returns almost immediately, with a hat box. Is she really going to show Elizabeth a new hat? Whatever would be funny about that? But when Lydia sits back down, opens the box and shows her sister several nicely made baby-dresses, carefully folded up inside it, Elizabeth feels closer to crying than to laughter. Her eyes burn, and she lets a few tears escape them in sympathy for her sister, who had already acquired a few little dresses for her eagerly awaited baby.

'I made them myself, Lizzy, every single one of them. When I knew Wickham would let me keep it, I asked Janet to show me how to sew, and she taught me.'

Elizabeth now takes the dresses from her sister and studies the workmanship. All of them are very well-made, with tiny neat stitches and perfectly spaced pleats. Lydia? Whose only interest in needlework was taking apart a hat she didn't like and applying some new decorations with a few rough stitches? When her sisters fitted their own dresses and would gladly have taught her their skills? One of the dresses even has a little embroidery on it, tiny flowers, maybe daisies. Lydia never wanted to learn that, said it was servants' work.

'I'm not too good at embroidery, Lizzy, and Janet couldn't teach me much. She's not good at it either. You always were such a proficient at needlework, will you teach me while you are here? For Janet says that next time I get with child I will have every chance to get a normal, healthy baby who will live. I want to make many more dresses before that. I find I like doing my own sewing, Abbey can't sew or embroider at all, she's from a different class of people than our servants at home were, you should have seen the dress she wore when she first came here to apply for her job. It was a disgrace. I've bought her a few decent ones, and gave her some old ones of mine for her mother.'

'I'll be happy to show you some techniques, Lydia. I've learned quite a lot myself, we have a housekeeper who makes the most beautiful works of art with embroidery. She taught me some fancy new stitches. And I can help you fit your dresses while I'm here, we can chat and work.

Lydia, these little dresses are beautiful, you have learned a lot from your friend. I hope I will get to meet her, to thank her for being a good sister to you while we cannot because we live too far away. And when Wickham goes away from home for any length of time, you should come and stay with us, and we'll go shopping. I'm very sorry you lost your little baby, Lydia, you wanted it so much. And I really hope Janet is right, that you will soon have another one that will live.'

'Janet has seen it happen, a friend of hers had the same. She says she is not worried for me, she knows it will be all right. I told her we are a very fertile family. That reminds, me Lizzy, aren't you with child, yet? You've been married for quite some time now, after all.'

'I am not, no. I don't want a baby yet, either, I'm still very happy living with just Fitzwilliam. Well, and his sister and her fiancée.'

'But he wants an heir, doesn't he? And mama told me she conceived almost immediately. What if you cannot have any children, Lizzy?'

'Then I suppose we will learn to live with that, Lydia. But we've not been married for that long. And I'm really not eager to get with child, not at all. All in good time, Lydia.'

She can say that calmly, but she doesn't feel it, not anymore. Though Elizabeth still doesn't particularly want a child, and the image of Charlotte with her distended belly, her constant fatigue, and her stringy hair is burned in her mind. She does not want Fitzwilliam to see her like that, not ever!

'Oh well, I'm sure Janet knows someone who took a long time to conceive as well. She is such a good friend to me, and she has taught me so much, as if I have you and Jane back, but I'm finally listening.'

By now, the time Fitzwilliam thought he needed with the colonel has almost passed, and Elizabeth expects him to pick her up before lunch.

'Fitzwilliam will be here soon, Lydia, he is seeing Colonel Drummond right now, his uncle and cousin gave him a letter of introduction, so he can talk to Wickham's superior to get him a promotion. I will visit again tomorrow, is there something you'd like to do together? We can use the carriage if you want to.'

'I'd like to show you the camp and introduce you to my friends, if you don't mind. They would love to meet you, and I'm certain you'll like them, they often talk like you and Jane.'

'Let's do that, then. I'll be here at more or less the same time as today. We can go shopping, too, Lydia, I have money for my personal expenses and I generally don't need all of it. I've taken whatever I have saved up, and we can use that to buy you some things you might need.'

'That is so sweet of you, Lizzy! There are a few things that need replacing, well, you can see that. Can you dress up tomorrow, Lizzy? They all read the papers, and they'll expect you to look like the most popular lady in town. If you don't look the part, they'll laugh at me. Not my friends, the other girls.'

Will she never escape those papers? But what can she do? Fortunately all her dresses are perfectly fashionable, it's more a matter of choosing the right accessories and doing her hair a certain way, using some make-up.

'All right Lydia, I'll prove to them I'm really the Mrs Darcy from the papers, filthy rich, adored by every gentleman, slave only to fashion.'

'Do you really get your dresses from France?'

'How long have you known me for, Lydia? Do you think I would seriously have clothes made for myself in France? Think again! I have a secret place where I shop, and if you visit London next winter you'll find out. If you visit Pemberley I have a different way to find you a few beautiful dresses, but you'll prefer London. Kitty would love you to visit, as would Jane.

Did you know Miss Bingley is getting married?'

Right when Elizabeth wants to tell Lydia about the hated Miss Bingley marrying a gentleman Lydia may remember from Jane's wedding, the door opens and Wickham comes strolling in.

'My dear, dear sister,' he addresses Elizabeth, who cannot but get up and greet him properly. And Wickham does not accept a curtsey, he takes hold of her hand and kisses it with feeling. If only he doesn't do that with Fitzwilliam present, or he can wave his promotion goodbye.

'You are more beautiful than ever, last time we met you were ravishing, but a little bit unreal. Now you're back to the young lady I admired for her beauty and her stimulating conversation.'

To Elizabeth, Wickham's spell is broken, has been broken for a very long time, but it seems as if he is not onto that at all. He still seems to believe her susceptible to his charms.

'I'm far removed from that young lady, Mr Wickham, I thought myself very clever at that time, but since then I have learned more about the world than I could even imagine.'

'I've always considered Darcy rather set in his own ways?'

It's barely civil, but Wickham usually gets away with these things because of his easy manners.

'Did I say I learned them from my beloved husband? You may know Simon, Fitzwilliam's valet, since he's had him in his service for ten years?'

'Oh, yes, I remember Simon. A ladies' delight, I saw him again that night at Netherfield, when I brought him your maid. Remember?'

That is true, Wickham took Fanny to Simon after saving her from Grenfell. 'Indeed I do. Well, Simon taught me everything he knows about city life, which is a lot. And then we joined public life in London and I learned as much from Mr Manners, whom you also met at Netherfield. I'm a different person, Mr Wickham, life in London, well, and getting married and growing up, have changed me.'

This clearly does not suit Wickham, his handsome face shows his disappointment, he must have known she was here despite Lydia's assurances she would tell him tonight, and have planned to make the most of finding her by herself. His next comment proves Elizabeth that she is right.

'I did not arrive at lunchtime by accident, Mrs Darcy. Colonel Drummond has such pleasure in his friend Earl Compton's nephew's visit, he was loath to part with him already, and he invited your esteemed husband to lunch. Who then undoubtedly protested his fair lady would be waiting for him at her sister's house, to have lunch together in one of Newcastle's superb establishments.'

'Actually we were planning to have lunch at our lodgings in Whitley. A very quaint village, do you know it?'

'I must admit I have never been there, no. But the colonel wouldn't take no for an answer, apparently he rarely does, I don't know him that well since I am merely a lowly ensign. And since I suspect your adoring husband would not budge if that meant disappointing you, I was called away from drill and directed to the colonel's office, to go home on the double and provide Mrs Darcy with lunch and the knowledge that her husband is safe and entertaining the colonel. Who will no doubt claim him tomorrow as well, and if you are very unlucky the rest of your stay here. But don't worry, your sister and I will be here to entertain you.'

And he makes an imperative gesture at Lydia, saying, 'Be a good girl, Lydia, and see to it that Abbey provides us with a lunch suitable for the likes of Mrs Darcy.'

Fortunately, Lydia is still the self-confident youngster she always was, and she retorts playfully, 'Lizzy has been my sister far longer than she has been Mrs Darcy, Wickham, and I happen to know she likes plain food.'

But Wickham obviously wants her out of the room.

'Then see to it that lunch is ready in half an hour, Lydia.'

Apparently he has her drilled as thoroughly as his men, for she kisses him tenderly and exits the drawing-room through the door they came in by, leaving Elizabeth all by herself with Wickham. That selfish colonel has something to answer for, when Fitzwilliam hears about this he'll be raving mad! He is making himself agreeable for Wickham's sake, to further his career, and while he is doing so Wickham feels free to bother his beloved.

For now Wickham closes in on Elizabeth, she is not afraid of him, frankly she quite likes him, as long as he behaves, but it seems he is not planning to. He sits right next to her on the sofa, he is still quite handsome if rather weather beaten from being outside in the sea breezes all the time. But he has a certain something about him he didn't use to have, Elizabeth supposes it comes with having a purpose in life, knowing one is doing good in the world. He is training his men, and himself, to defend their country against the threat of France, and doing a good job of it. It becomes him, he did prove himself a hero saving Fanny from a strong and influential man, but Elizabeth still doesn't like how he affects to be attached to her, a married woman and his sister-in-law. He could be an actor, the way he gazes into her eyes and takes one of her hands in both his.

'I should never have let you go, my dearest Elizabeth, the pain it causes me to see you with him, who was once as close as a brother to me and now considers me his greatest enemy.'

Elizabeth takes her hand back instantly, he has no right to moon over her, he never loved her and he still doesn't.

'It took some effort on your part to estrange him from you, Mr Wickham, and do not be mistaken, I was never yours, though I was very close to loving you one time. But prudence guarded my heart then, and rightfully so as it turned out. Your attentions to Miss King were a poignant warning, as I found out when I cast your accusations against Mr Darcy up to him, and got a thorough explanation of your actions in return. I merely regret not informing my own family of your miserable conduct towards him, condemning Lydia to live in conditions like these. Well, I also regret standing up for you against Fitzwilliam when I didn't know any better. I hurt him, when he didn't deserve to be hurt.'

Wickham finds it so easy to ignore things he doesn't want to hear, he merely continues as if Elizabeth didn't address him with painful truths.

'Can you really say you never loved me, not even a bit? I would never have allowed you to live in a place like this, Elizabeth, for you I would have bettered myself, exerted myself beyond your expectations. We would have been poor, but happy.'

He is deluding himself still. What can she do to make him see there was never any chance of their being together?

'I can tell you without hesitation that I never loved you, Mr Wickham. It would have been so unwise to fall in love with you, neither of us in the possession of any fortune or the hopes of gaining one. Remember, all that you have now was given to you by a man desperately in love with me, determined to save the woman he admired without hope of ever finding his love returned from the infamy of a sister's elopement. Even now he is making friends with your superiors to further your career. And you mean to thank him by, what is it anyway, Mr Wickham, what are you trying to achieve here?'

They have been over all this at Jane's wedding, why bring it up again? What does this man want from Elizabeth, why is he making it so difficult for them to help her sister and him?

'I can't seem to let go of what might have been, Elizabeth. Can't you give me what I ache for just once? For old times' sake? I promise I'll never bother you again, I'll be your sister's perfect husband, and father any number of babies on her.'

The gall of him! The lengths he will go to to spoil Fitzwilliam's happiness! After all her beloved did to save his future, even his sorry life, when his creditors started becoming serious in their threats.

'And give you the ultimate triumph over the man I do love? How gullible do you think I am? I have never desired to give you that, and I never will, Mr Wickham!'

Now he shows a strong emotion, and it's not anger, nor merely disappointment, it's more like desperation. He may be dangerous like this.

'You cannot mean what you're saying! You did love me, you're just denying it now. I cannot bear it, Elizabeth, your coldness, your aloofness, when once we were so close. If I hadn't foolishly thought having a fortune was better than having the perfect wife, we would have married on whatever money we could have scraped up between us. You cannot deny this!'

Elizabeth feels torn between fear of his strength and intensity, and anger at his presumption, he sure has a talent for remembering past experiences the way it suits him. But she did encourage him at that time, so she manages to temper her anger with a healthy dose of respect for his superior physical strength, and tries to reason with him.

'Mr Wickham, please calm down,' she starts, soothingly, but it is the wrong thing to say.

'Don't Mr Wickham me, Elizabeth! You're tearing out my heart being so cold, don't call him Fitzwilliam in front of me, then address me as Mr Wickham. I'm George, I was always George to you!'

That is just not true. They have never been informal, and finally her fear of him is overcome by her anger at his remembering events of the past to suit him.

'I will not give you what you want from me, Mr Wickham. I have never given you any reason to expect it, my behaviour to you has always been correct.'

He truly looks as if he is just going to take it, bending towards her as if he is going to kiss her, touch her. She can scream for Fanny, but what can the girl do against a grown man, a soldier? If he succeeds, Fitzwilliam will call him out and most likely be killed. She has to stop him herself, and before any harm is done. She lets her fear take over her voice.

'You are scaring me, Mr Wickham, I wish you would get a hold of yourself. You have been nursing some delusion over me, and if you do not control yourself now, it will be too late. You have no right to what you claim from me, and taking it will ruin your life. I'm very well-connected these days, touching me against my will will get you hanged. Please come to your senses and let Fitzwilliam get you a place in the rifles. Don't you want to improve yourself? Look at this place, you can do so much better, you're a good man, and a good soldier, but you need to face reality. We were never meant to be together, we didn't have a penny between us.'

It works. Slowly, the frantic expression is replaced by one not of calm, but realisation.

'I don't know what came over me, Mrs Darcy,' he stammers. And then, 'actually I do. I've allowed myself a certain freedom thinking of you, and seeing you again so unexpectedly made me lose my mind. I'm so very sorry, you must truly hate me now. I'll leave immediately and I'll stay away from you from now on. Please forgive me.'

That is better, though she can do without the grovelling, that is more Mr Collins' style, not Wickham's. And she doesn't want to alienate him altogether, she kind of likes him, and he may very well be Fitzwilliam's younger brother. At Mr Goodfellow's lecture, Earl Compton told her about the suspicions his sister Anne, Fitzwilliam's mother, had about her husband and Mrs Wickham. The Earl had indeed picked up Elizabeth's hint that she shared his suspicion, and they discussed where possible evidence might be found. Once they are back at Pemberley, Elizabeth will search old Mr Darcy's room, and possibly the attic of the house. Fitzwilliam's uncle promised to search his sister's room at his estate, and his attic, for letters, his sister having once mentioned intercepting one.

'I'm glad you're back to reason, Mr Wickham. And I don't hate you, I just want you to stop imagining things about me and act like any normal brother-in-law. Despite what you did to him, Fitzwilliam is trying to help you, but you're making it very difficult. We were so proud of the good reports we got about you, and now this. It makes me kind of sad, it's as if you just want to grasp at anything that belongs to Fitzwilliam that you think you can take from him. It's mean and it's low, and it's very insulting to me, as if I have no morals or self-respect.'

Oh, does he deny that!

'No, Mrs Darcy! How can you think such a thing of me?'

He does not need to be reminded of his lies, and his planned elopement with Georgiana. One of her eyebrows raised is enough.

'All right, I know why you'd think that of me. But this is not an effort to hurt my benefactor. I truly do love you, I have since we spent so much time together in Hertfordshire. I just wasn't used to those feelings, and I didn't acknowledge them until it was too late. But I guess you are right, you were never for the likes of me. Can you imagine what that feels like, seeing the woman you love in the arms of the man whom you have envied all your life, and who has just reasons to hate you? And still be forced to accept his charity, knowing he has you to hold at night, while I am stuck with a reverse image of the woman we both love? A woman he forced me to marry?'

'That woman is my sister, Mr Wickham. And if you hadn't tempted her to live in sin with you, you may be certain that Fitzwilliam would have left your life but also your career and your debts alone. You'd most likely be dead by now, murdered by your creditors. Now tell me honestly, Mr Wickham, how has my sister been these last few weeks?'

Changing the subject radically helps, there's nothing to gain by discussing anything else anyway.

'I didn't do it, Mrs Darcy, I swear I had nothing to do with her losing the baby! I'd come to terms with becoming a father, you were right, your mother is as flighty and she has several very worthy daughters. I told her I was looking forward to the baby, and she did magnificently, sewing little dresses, talking seriously to the most deserving of her friends, doing her own little chores in the household with Abbey. She was crushed when she lost it so suddenly and unexpectedly, and I do think her own life was in danger for a day or two, losing so much blood, the threat of infection. But you come from good stock, she rallied and has been on the mend ever since. She must be so glad to have you visit, Mrs Darcy, please do not hold my behaviour against her. There is something bothering her, though, she is quieter than I remember, and though she still adores me and wants to cuddle all the time, it's as if she is afraid to make love, I think she fears to conceive again. She won't tell me, says there's nothing wrong with her, but I don't believe it. Maybe you can find out?'

'I will try, Mr Wickham, and don't worry, Fitzwilliam won't hear about what happened here today. If I can trust you to respect me from now on, and let go of any wishes you have for me besides being your sister-in-law and a loving aunt to your children.'

Wickham gets up and bows to her, quite formally.

'Thank you, Mrs Darcy. I'll see whether there is any chance of a lunch, yet, and then I want to hear all about life in London. Lydia will love it, too.'


	94. Chapter 94

Chapter 104

Darcy doesn't like leaving Elizabeth in a neighbourhood like this. It reminds him of where he found Wickham and Lydia in London, a large ugly stone building riddled with small apartments. The smell of cabbage and the shabby children are absent, and he can see Elizabeth is merely interested, not abhorred to find her sister living in a place like this. Maybe Lydia warned her in one of her letters. His beloved does look very much out of place in her fur-collared coat, but she has Fanny along with her and she is as confident as ever. She will be fine.

Leaving her with her sister gladly, Lydia in her usual mood is hard enough to bear, to see her crying is almost embarrassing, Darcy soon finds himself approaching the camp where Wickham spends most of his days. It's incredibly large, of course a thousand men are stationed here, and though the officers are mostly housed outside the camp, the privates and their sergeants live in the large wooden barracks.

Bob is halted by a uniformed soldier, who gives him extensive directions and then sends them on their way. That's another talent a driver must possess, without hesitation the carriage makes turn after turn amidst barracks and drilling grounds and picket lines with horses, until it halts in front of yet another barracks. There is no way Darcy himself would have noticed the difference between this one and several others, but Bob has followed his instructions well for a soldier on duty approaches the carriage, and after exchanging a few words with Bob, opens the door and says, 'Colonel Drummond is expecting you, Mr Darcy, will you follow me, please?'

The inside of the wooden structure looks more like he expected, simple but expensive, wood panelling, hardwood flooring, carved doors. He is shown into what he guesses is the colonel's office, it's as large as Darcy's own study, with a sizeable desk, a sturdy cabinet, several flags, banners and maps hanging from the walls and very little else. A few barely comfortable chairs are lined up in front of the desk.

'Colonel, Mr Darcy to see you, sir.'

A handsome man in his late forties rises from what seems to be a much more comfortable chair behind the desk, he has a clean-cut, clean-shaven face, greying hair and an upright bearing, with broad shoulders and a still-narrow waist. If he can age like this himself, Darcy will be very pleased.

'Thank you, Ensign Carter,' the man addresses the accompanying soldier. Then, 'Mr Darcy of Pemberley, such a pleasure to meet you! Why don't you follow me to a somewhat more comfortable room.'

They shake hands, and then the colonel leads Darcy to a tiny sitting-room with a low table and two beautiful leather sofas, talking all the time.

'We've never met, though I know both your uncle Lord Compton and your very capable cousin Colonel Compton very well, but I feel as if I know you, too. My wife has been following your adventures in the newspaper, and when I told her you'd requested a meeting she let me promise her to invite you and your lovely wife to dinner without delay.'

As they sit down and an aide pours coffee for them, Darcy cannot help feeling a little put out. This whole society and paper business is turning out to be one big pain, it seems to follow them everywhere. It's very obvious that England is a lot bigger than just London, and that people everywhere read that one newspaper, even those cursed society pages. Elizabeth will not be pleased.

'Thank you, Colonel Drummond, I'm very pleased to meet you, too, and we will be delighted to join you for dinner of an evening. I just hope your wife's expectations will not all be based on the newspapers, they do tend to exaggerate, you know.'

'I told her the exact same thing, it's not as if Mrs Darcy will turn up in her best French dress, if you were coming over to blind the locals with your importance you would have elected to stay with us, not in some little inn on the very edge of this part of the world. You must be looking for some peace and quiet, and since you have been entertaining London society for the last few months, you have some right to escape prying eyes for a few weeks. I have warned my dear wife to expect you looking dressed for the country, not for the New Year's Eve Ball.'

Good, the colonel is not insulted over their choice to stay in an out-of-the-way inn instead of making use of their hospitality.

'You are a very discerning man, Colonel, and I am glad you do not seem to take our choosing to hire a room in an inn as a personal insult. We have been very active socially, and my wife's reason to visit is of a rather delicate nature, her sister having been struck by an unfortunate loss, and to be pleasing people from morning to evening would be too much of a strain on her. She has taken to city life above expectation, I'm merely coping, I'm a sportsman myself. I can't wait for the spring season, my hunters will be the most welcome sight to my eyes.'

The colonel likes to hear that, he must be a hunter himself.

'Then I beg you to give me an afternoon of your time tomorrow, Mr Darcy, I'm planning a hunt on the moors and I'm certain you would love to experience that. I can easily lend you a horse and a rifle. Please do, sir, I'd love to hear your opinion on my latest acquisition, a hunter stallion I'm planning to use for breeding, you have the reputation of being an excellent judge of horses.'

Elizabeth will not mind so much, she'll most likely want to help out her sister with a few necessary items for her house, if Darcy is a judge of their current situation. They can have the carriage, though Darcy has to admit to the vanity of being eager to show off his team.

'I see no problem in joining you for a hunt, I've never experienced the moors from up close, aren't they rather dangerous?'

'Not if you know what you're doing, Mr Darcy, and my huntsmaster is a very capable man. So you'll come?'

'I think I will, yes, gladly so. I'm aching for a good long ride on a spirited horse.'

'Great, I'm looking forward to it. I suppose you'll want to have your brother-in-law give you a tour of the camp?'

A whole morning with George Wickham? Darcy must have shown some of his dislike of the man, for the colonel observes, 'Or you can talk to him for a few minutes and I'll give you the tour myself. That's a much better idea. We'll talk to his lieutenant and captain to hear their recommendations, and then you can give him the good news. But I want you to tell me why you drive all the way from London and pay a hefty commission to have someone you dislike intensely promoted to an honourable if dangerous position. After we talk with his direct superiors, say during lunch?'

How to say this politely?

'I've made arrangements with my wife to pick her up from her sister's place before lunch, Colonel, and I cannot contact her. It's not that I mind telling you about my dealings with Mr Wickham, I don't want to let her down on our first day in Newcastle.'

'No problem, Mr Darcy, we'll send Mr Wickham back home to warn your wife and keep her company over lunch. Unless your dislike of him involves her?'

Well, Darcy certainly doesn't like to see Wickham close to Elizabeth, but if they're somewhere else he doesn't actually have to see them together. Maybe that's for the best, Elizabeth doesn't really dislike Wickham, she might want to spend an hour or so talking to him.

'Fortunately it doesn't, Colonel. I'm very fond of Mrs Darcy and I would never do anyone a favour who got into trouble with her.'

'A large favour, Mr Darcy, but I have heard nothing but good from Mr Wickham's superior officers since he was stationed here. They say he is very dedicated to his men and I cannot but commend that. Well then, if you'll give me but a moment I'll have everyone involved brought over, and we can talk business first, and have lunch after. Shall we drive to Newcastle to eat? Army fare is very basic, and I've heard you have a most remarkable team. I love horses.'

An epitome of efficiency, Colonel Drummond calls for his aide, then orders the young man to have Ensign Wickham brought to him as soon as possible, and to let Lieutenant Gore and Captain Russell in as soon as they arrive. Wickham arrives first and is rather shocked to be summoned to his colonel only to find him in the presence of Darcy, chatting away about horses and hunting, things Wickham has no experience of.

'Ensign Wickham, so good to see you, how is the drill going?'

Darcy likes to see Wickham trying to keep a calm front while wondering whether Darcy's presence is a good thing or a bad thing. He does manage to reply with equanimity. Well, he is a soldier, if he cannot cope with minor surprises he will be dead within minutes on a battlefield.

'Very well, sir. I've finally managed to convince them that keeping an eye on their surroundings is in their own interest, though it is officially my task. They realise now that they need to know what to do in case I fall, no-one is immortal, on the contrary, officers are often targeted ahead of privates.'

'And yet I hear you want to join the Rifle Core, Ensign. Well, this gentleman is here to give you a chance at making your promotion a reality, and to help him do that I need you to go home and tell Mrs Darcy her husband is having lunch with me. And you are to provide Mrs Darcy with lunch and suitable entertainment so she will not feel his absence too much. He'll be back for her at two. Off with you!'

Wickham salutes and leaves, relieved but looking hungry rather than smug. He must still doubt his chances to actually make it into the rifles, but it's clear he wants it very much. The other officers arrive in due time, and after they have given their colonel a full report on Wickham's strengths and failings, the colonel nods and concludes, 'I gather you are both positive about his advancement into this new unit?'

Both men affirm they find Wickham exactly the right man to form a close bond to his men and operate largely independently in the field, taking opportunities to distract the enemy whenever they crop up.

'Well, then, that's settled. Mr Darcy will visit again tomorrow and give him the good news. I wish you both luck finding his replacement. Dismissed, gentlemen!'

After a half-hour's drive through the coutryside just outside London, spent in pleasant conversation with Miss Anne, Nick and his charges arrive in Colonel Fitzwilliam Compton's army camp. The tour of the army camp is actually very interesting. Colonel Compton leads, and Mr Blackwood seems to have decided their host is the only person at liberty to walk along with, since Mr Manners has chosen to stay in the back with Nick, and the ladies are supposedly partnered with an officer.

But to Nick's absolute delight the ladies themselves do not agree with that surmise at all. Miss Sophie proves to be serious in her interest in the colonel by attaching herself to her father and the leader of the entire camp. If this doesn't get the colonel's notice her quest must be hopeless, but by stationing herself between the two men she actually succeeds in catching Colonel Compton's eye.

Nick knows Miss Anne is very fond of her cousin, and he does look rather mild for a man holding such a high rank. Before long, Miss Sophie is talking to the colonel, and her father is merely watching the two, nodding and occasionally adding a word or two.

The other lady who doesn't stay with her assigned officer is Miss de Bourgh. At her officer's answering a question posed by Miss Angelina, Miss Anne bravely walks back a few yards to join Mr Manners and himself. Her face is glad, and Nick has to swallow a few times. Memories do intrude themselves at the most inconvenient times. She addresses both of them.

'Did you see that? Sophie went straight for him, she just left her officer and went to walk with Fitzwilliam. And he actually saw her for the first time! I so wish he'll start to realise that blinding intelligence and astounding wit aren't everything.'

How can anyone not love her? How can Mr Manners not love her? Though he looks at her fondly, it's obvious he does not feel the burning passion for Miss Anne that Nick does.

'Young Fowler here told me he advised her not to try to be smart, which is in fact very smart. But I've also advised him, and will now advise you, that whoever speaks to her first must tell her not to play or sing any folk-songs. Elizabeth always played those for him, Anne, it'll remind him of her instantly.'

Elizabeth, that is most likely Mrs Darcy! Oh poor, poor Miss Sophie! There is no way she can compete with the memory of the new first lady of London society, no way.

'He wouldn't even have been happy with her, Frederick, I really cannot imagine that. Darcy told me he thrives on her impertinence, I think Fitzwilliam would smart under it.'

They're calling each other by their first names. Then it's as good as settled, Miss Anne will marry Mr Manners, and yes, they will be happy together. Look at them, they're as close as peas in a pod. She's a potent cure for philanderers, Miss Anne is. Nick hasn't been with anyone since she left, and he had plenty of chances. But he rebuffed them with a lame excuse about his broken ribs, he just doesn't care anymore.

Still, the conversation is mighty interesting and they know he is there, they simply don't mind him hearing it. Well, Miss Sophie is his charge after all, it's better he knows the odds. He knows whom she will turn to to comfort her if she breaks her heart over the colonel. The latter shows them the barracks, the mess hall, the practice grounds, the picketing lines and even the latrines, those last from a respectable distance. The camp is huge, they only view a small part of it but still they are all impressed. The officers demonstrate their muskets, and the young ladies are offered a chance to shoot one. Miss Angelina, accompanied by two officers because of her sister's defection, does, but none of the others dare or feel the need to. Nick would like to try, but no-one asks a servant. Mr Manners probably has plenty of hunting rifles, and Mr Blackwood is a typical city man, no shooting for him, thank you.

'Lieutenant Talbot!' Mr Manners gestures to Miss Anne's former officer, who is entertaining Miss Maria and Miss Leonora with his two fellows.

'Manners, are you sure you want to shoot a musket? I think you'll find it vastly inferior to your own rifles.'

He knows Mr Manners by name, and talks to him as an equal. Well, he is an officer and thus most likely a landed gentleman or a second son himself.

'Thank you, Talbot, indeed I'm not. I was asking for the young man here, I think Fowler would like to shoot it. Will you show him how?'

'It will be my pleasure, Manners. If you'll follow me, Mr Fowler?'

On the range, the lieutenant shows Nick the target and explains how to shoot the unwieldy weapon. Nick has never in his life held a musket and it's quite a frightening experience, this object can kill a man from a significant distance. It is also heavy, a strain on his still-healing body, but he's committed now. To back out would be cowardly. He does exactly as the lieutenant instructs, lifts the weapon to his shoulder, aims, then draws the trigger. The sound of the explosion crashes in his ear, and the weapon kicks back against his shoulder and chest. It hurts like hell, had he known it would do that he would have refused. Miss Angelina had her officer to take the brunt of the blow, he should have realised that. Well, too late now, he will have to suffer it. At least it's less painful than Mr Manners' clobber.

He thanks the lieutenant, who is just returning from the target after checking his shot.

'This your first time shooting?'

'Yes, sir,' Nick replies respectfully, then hands back the musket.

'Then you did better than my last batch of recruits, you hit the target. Did she kick you?'

'I've a few broken ribs, lieutenant, I didn't know guns did that or I'd have forgone.'

The lieutenant makes a face. 'Very painful, broken ribs. You all right? We have a surgeon.'

'I'm fine, sir, I'm not even breathing that hard. It just hurt, that's all.'

'You're a good one, Mr Fowler, you look like you can defend yourself. Is there a weapon you are comfortable with?'

The slapjack he uses is not exactly totally legal, not something one would tell an army officer. The man laughs at his hesitation and says, 'Never mind, I can see you are an expert with some weapon. Those young ladies and their father are safe with you, that's obvious. Probably where you broke those ribs. It's been a pleasure talking to you, Mr Fowler, see you around.'

And he is off to the ladies, carrying the musket with easy familiarity.

Nick is left standing, dare he go back to Mr Manners and Miss Anne, now watching the ladies and quite probably, the colonel? No need, they are coming towards him already, Mr Manners laying an arm on his shoulder, gently.

'And again I did you a bad turn. I know a musket kicks but usually it's nothing bad. It must have hurt you rather markedly, though. I seem destined to bring you pain today, Fowler, I'm truly sorry.

How did you do? I can see you didn't hit any of our group, they're all still standing.'

'Actually I hit the target, the lieutenant praised me, said his recruits this year did worse.'

'Good for you, Fowler, I know Talbot, he is not an easy man to please.'

And Anne gets to know Lieutenant Talbot better during dinner, since fate, or rather Fitzwilliam, has again thrown them together. Fortunately Frederick has taken Nick firmly under his wing, making him feel a lot less uncomfortable at a formal dinner-table than he might have otherwise felt. But now the lieutenant has a right to her attention.

'I don't remember you from my time in society, Miss de Bourgh, though I suppose we're much the same age. Before I got my commission I used to spend all winter dancing, I'm sure I would have remembered you, you're so beautiful.'

He is very kind, and perfectly handsome, though a little older than most of the other officers present. Anne is starting to suspect Fitzwilliam of selecting this man especially for her, he seems a superior character, unassuming and showing an interest in his partner that cannot but please.

'You remember well, Lieutenant Talbot. This is my first time in town, I never left my mother's estate. Though you wouldn't have recognised me either, I looked very different a few years ago, I was very sickly and frighteningly pale and thin. Not beautiful at all I'm afraid.'

'I'm glad you recovered, Miss de Bourgh. It's an honour to sit with you.'

It's pleasant to talk to the lieutenant, Fitzwilliam chose well, Anne could come to like this man very much. And he is not penniless, Anne finds he has a reasonable fortune of his own, inherited from a favourite uncle, though he does not own or stand to inherit an estate, since he is in fact a second son.

'By the time uncle Bernhard died and I found out he had left me everything, I had taken service, and I since like being active and useful, I'm planning to stay in. The comradeship, too, though if I were to get married I'd consider quitting the army and finding my wife and myself a nice little estate to run.'

Such an eligible match, and Anne doesn't have much trouble keeping her attention on him, he is an excellent conversationalist. But her eye keeps wanting to check out Nick, to see whether he is still comfortable. When it finally has its way she can see him still talking to Frederick with animation. In fact it's Frederick who seems unhappy to see Anne so involved with another man, which strikes Anne as rather funny.

Lieutenant Talbot knows all about his fellow officers, including their fortunes, and Anne is impressed, Fitzwilliam has really found those not hopelessly poor and ready to settle.

'I'm the only one who can afford to leave the army, the others do need their position if they are ever going to win enough to have a chance of independence. They don't mind the prospect of a war at all, Miss de Bourgh, it's their best option to attain wealth.'

While Anne is a bit disappointed to miss out on an opportunity to be close to Nick once more, especially with Frederick present to carry the conversation and prevent awkward moments of reminiscence, she is happy enough with her lieutenant. Dinner is a pleasant affair with plentiful if simple food, and because the officers are not used to entertaining ladies they all move to the soldier's equivalent of a drawing-room after dinner and have their brandy in the presence of their visitors. A fine opportunity for the Blackwood twins and their friends to taste brandy, they seem to like it very much. Anne tries, too, but it burns her tongue and throat. She steals a look at Nick, who also has a glass and sips it like an expert. Of course he can buy himself a glass of brandy in any establishment he likes, he must have had it before and he obviously likes it. After the brandy, coffee is served, but Anne has spotted a piano in the room and she can see Sophie still together with her father and Fitzwilliam. Any time now she can offer to play for them, if she dares. Across the room Nick is obviously worried, trying to work up the courage to talk to Miss Sophie when she is standing between her father and the leader of this camp. It's better if Anne solves this, so she excuses herself to her companion and moves towards Sophie.

'Would you mind showing me where the restroom is, Sophie? I know we were there before dinner, to freshen up, but I seem to have gotten myself lost.'

Sophie is pleased to go with her, of course, and as soon as they are out of the room Anne urges, 'You are making wonderful progress with my cousin, my dear. Will you let me give you one important piece of advice?'

Her little friend is very eager to listen. 'Please Anne, you know him best. He has finally noticed me but he is still treating me like an elder brother, not a suitor.'

'Play and sing for him, Sophie, but not folk-songs. Not even if he asks. Play Italian songs, they'll open up his heart so you can make him see you as a woman, not a girl. Good luck, Sophie, I love my cousin very much and I think you will be very good to him.'

Dear Sophie is affected by Anne's encouragement.

'You have no idea how much that means to me, Anne. Papa approves of him but finds him a bit old, and of course he has little fortune. But he is so kind, I want him to love me.'

'Fitzwilliam will be the best husband a girl ever had, Sophie.'

And Anne is convinced of that, though she prefers a man with a little more spice herself.

When they return to the room Sophie makes straight for Fitzwilliam. Anne is in doubt. She really wants to talk to Nick, but she knows it will only cause her pain. She should spend time on the lieutenant, he is kind, smart and very eligible. But first she will tell Frederick and Nick that Sophie knows about the folk-songs, easy enough since they are approaching her already, as it turns out to ask her that very same thing.

'Did you tell her, Anne?' Frederick asks.

'I did. I thought it would be easiest if I did it, girl to girl, you know.'

Nick's eyes smoulder again, or is it her wishful thinking?

'Thank you, Miss Anne. They've hit it off so well, it would be a shame to spoil it now.'

'There is still no guarantee he'll like her, Nick. I'm sorry, but one just cannot forget an unrequited love as easily as that.'

'I know, Miss, I do know.'

She excuses herself to go back to Lieutenant Talbot's side, and receives a very warm welcome there, as well as a cup of excellent coffee.

'It seems your little friend is going to play for us. She appears to have chosen your cousin as companion for the evening, Miss de Bourgh, and rightfully so. He deserves some love in his life, he is such an excellent commander.'

And Miss Sophie does play and sing for Fitzwilliam, she's quite a good player but an even better singer. Her voice is clear and sweet, as she is herself, and the Italian songs are heart-rending ballads of love and woe. Sentimental and not very subtle, but very feeling, and strong enough to fill a rather bare room. Fitzwilliam finally seems to really see her, she is not a child, but a young woman trying to gain the attention of a man she admires. He can hardly believe it, and he may resist being attracted to another woman, but it's very clear her singing affects him.

After a few songs Angelina joins her sister and they switch to jaunty music. Of course that makes everyone feel like dancing, and soon Maria and Leonora are standing up with one of their officers.

Fitzwilliam now talks to one of the men, who places himself behind the instrument, allowing Sophie to dance with Fitzwilliam himself, and Angelina with the officer who has attended to her all day. Anne graciously allows the lieutenant to take her hand, though she looks back to where her heart truly lies. From the corner of her eye she can see Frederick and Nick looking on, Nick resigned, Frederick a bit disconcerted. It's as if he wants to push her into Nick's arms, but why? What does he care?

Dancing with Lieutenant Talbot is very pleasant, he is agile and a strong lead, and he manages to keep up the conversation despite the activity. She really likes him, and dances three pleasant sets with him. Sophie is still dancing with Fitzwilliam, and the other girls seem to stick to their assigned officer with pleasure. Then they all change partners, and Anne finds herself dancing with the least handsome of the lot, a willow-thin officer whose name she cannot remember. But from up close he turns out to be merely very young, it's no wonder he is still so slim. He is also a good dancer, but he doesn't have much to say, he seems a bit shy towards an older woman.

Then Frederick breaks in and she is very happy to find herself in his familiar arms. He has been so kind to her, and so attentive, and he has taught her so much. Her feelings towards him are deepening, and very complicated. She does not see him as a brother, it's more than that. But she has some time left to sort them out. After two dances with him she needs a breather and Frederick pointedly moves back to Nick, who is standing by himself looking a little forlorn. Anne is glad to be back by his side, she wishes to dance with him, but he seems unlikely to dance as the only servant in a company made up of gentle folk, where the women are in the minority and one or two gentlemen are waiting for a turn to dance. One of whom is his master.

Mr Blackwood fetches Anne from where she is standing, and she finds him a rather insecure dancer, fortunately she is pretty good at it by now and her feet survive. Then she dances with another officer, and Frederick again, who looks pointedly towards a corner of the room, where Mr Blackwood is now playing cards with Leonora and two officers. Frederick takes Anne to where Nick is still standing and hands her to him. Startled, Nick cannot but obey Mr Manners, and he leads her back to heaven for ten minutes, or rather three dances. Again, it brings back memories, but Anne stows them away for further contemplation, tonight. And several days after. Then she relishes his touch, his scent, his happy smile, his proficient dancing. Not wanting to spoil the feeling by dancing with anyone else, Anne professes fatigue and sits down to watch the remaining dancers, most notably Fitzwilliam. Frederick joins her, but Nick remains standing until Frederick bluntly pulls him into a chair.

'No-one will even notice. You're with us tonight.'

They talk a lot more, but Anne still feels Nick's hands on hers, and she really wants nothing more than to just go home and remember all their precious moments together. But before that, they have to take leave of the officers, and Lieutenant Talbot is one of them.

'Will we meet again, Miss de Bourgh?' he asks a little wistfully, and though Anne likes him well enough, she cannot think of anyone else but Nick right now, so she answers the lieutenant politely, but a bit more vaguely than he likes. Still he can do nothing but kiss her hand and hope for the best.

Then there is the trip back, and undoubtedly the girls' chattering about the men they met. But just before Nick hands her into the carriage, the worst thing happens: Mr Blackwood asks Sophie and herself to ride with Mr Manners and him in the other carriage. She cannot refuse, and instead of drinking in the sight of Nick for half an hour, maybe even sitting next to him and catching the occasional whiff of his scent, she'll have to find a suitable answer to a thousand questions Sophie and her father have about her cousin, Colonel Compton, some of them undoubtedly too personal for Anne to answer. Frederick hands her in himself, and as she passes him he whispers, 'Just ask Miss Sophie and your cousin to dinner, Anne. She'll have to bring him with her.'

That's just great, Frederick sticking his nose in. What does he know? He's found his beloved and will be faithful to him, doesn't he understand that some men just don't want that? At least the situation in the carriage is heartening, Sophie is clearly smitten, and her father is beaming. His approval need not be doubted. Now she'll just have to see what kind of impression this unsophisticated girl has made on her cousin. They do indeed ask a thousand questions, but fortunately none are personal, so she can answer them in clear conscience. When they arrive at the Blackwood mansion, Mr Blackwood takes his girl with him, and Anne expects Frederick to drive off.

'Shouldn't you say goodbye to your friends, Anne? They haven't been able to talk about their conquests at all, you should at least kiss them and wish them a good night.'

He is not her father, but he is right. She lets him hand her out of the carriage, then proceeds to kiss all her friends and take leave. When they are gone, all is silent.

'Miss Anne?'

It's him. At least they'll get to say goodbye.

'Nick?'

'Thank you for noticing me, Miss. It was good seeing you again.'

'It was, Nick. I do miss you, you know. I still think of you a lot, of our days together.'

'I'm sorry I couldn't do it right, the ribs, you know.'

Nonsense. She wants to kiss him and tell him he was fabulous. That she loves him and wants to be with him always. But he cannot be claimed, and she will not be made a fool of twice in a row. The girls are all gone back inside, and Nick needs to go, too.

'You did great, Nick. Well, good night.'

'Good night, Miss.'

She need not wait for her bed to let herself go, Frederick is ready for her. Before his arms have closed on her, she is crying, she loves Nick so much, how could she have let this happen?

'I hate to see you torturing yourself so, Anne. I can't help you yet, unless you want to just meet him in secret and make love, but somehow I don't think you'd stand that for long. Oh you poor thing, a first love is always so painful. Just cry, I'll be here for you.'

When they return the worst of Anne's grief is over, she had a good time, Lieutenant Talbot certainly was pretty nice, there are more men on this world than Nick, and some of them are very eligible to marry outright. But if she marries one of them, she'll be stuck with him, no chance of freedom besides what he allows her, and somehow the very idea is offensive to her. Why should she obey a man, just because he is a man? She has an independent fortune, there is no need to rely on anyone. Maybe Frederick's proposal isn't so bad.

Eric and Georgiana are in a state, they have had a visit from Mr Clementi, a famous piano-builder, composer and teacher.

'He is in his late forties, but he is still rather good-looking, though small and dark of course. I can't imagine he is the very person who builds those fabulous pianos, they sound so light, so melodious. And he is so incredibly virtuous, even on Eric's Zumpe.'

Georgiana hasn't met him before and is very much impressed.

Eric's previous impression of Mr Clementi has been confirmed, he is a sympathetic man.

'He loved the Zumpe, said he was rather disappointed at first that Mr Zumpe insisted on being competitors, but he had gotten used to it. I played my concerto for him, and he said it's the new thing, he thinks I'm going to be a very good composer. He is certain he can help me reach the next level, and then he is willing to write a recommendation for me to study in Vienna, with one of the famous composers there, he knows all of them, Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven. One of his students, Johann Hummel, is returning to London soon, to play for the king. Mr Clementi wants us to meet him, he lives in Vienna now. So how was your day?'

They talk a little more, until Anne is so tired she expects to fall asleep right away when she crawls into her bed. But she is wrong. She relives every moment she ever spent with Nick, and manages to relish them without thinking of the future.


	95. Chapter 95

Driving back to the inn, Fanny has joined Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth in the carriage, because she thinks she has heard something important from Abbey, Lydia's maid.

'She said her mistress is having some sort of religious crisis about losing her baby. The midwife apparently told Mrs Wickham that the baby was deformed, and that such things usually happen as a punishment from above. And ever since then Mrs Wickham goes to church with them on Sundays, though she refuses to talk to the minister, Abbey thinks she dares not, because she is convinced she has led a sinful life and needs to atone first before she can expect to be noticed by their clergyman.'

'And until she has paid for her sins she fears to conceive again, afraid the next baby will be deformed, too.' Elizabeth remembers what Wickham said.

'I need to talk to Abbey, and I need to ask Lydia what it is exactly that she fears so much. She must have a skewed view on religion, but that doesn't surprise me. She never paid much attention to anyone trying to tell her anything. Thank you, Fanny, this will help my sister a lot.'

Another romantic stroll along the beach and a lovely dinner at their guesthouse, and they're back in their turret. It's good to snuggle against her beloved, especially after Wickham's idiocy this morning. Despite her promise to Fitzwilliam just after they were married, she will not tell him about the scene her brother-in-law put her through, there is nothing to be gained from her beloved wanting to murder Wickham all over again. Elizabeth has learned some things from Frederick, and remembers how Charlotte was planning to use Mr Collins' love for her to her advantage: if Wickham truly loves her, Elizabeth must be able to use this to her advantage in dealing with him. Especially if he does turn out to be who she thinks he is. She does not feel guilty about this at all, not towards Wickham, and not towards Fitzwilliam either. She cannot help Wickham's behaviour, the only thing she can do is make sure it doesn't get out of hand, by discouraging Wickham and leaving Fitzwilliam in the dark. They will be hundreds of miles away from Wickham again in a few weeks anyway.

Of course she will never use Fitzwilliam's love for her own good, well, except to enjoy it and return it manifold. But manipulating him to do her wishes would be despicable, she loves him and will never do anything that might hurt him. Snuggling against him she can feel the warmth of his strong body, and she can smell his familiar scent, though there is a tang of salt to that, too. His hair has held out all day, Fanny is a miracle.

Tomorrow he will go hunting on the moor, Elizabeth wishes she could go with him, but that is totally out of the question. She will go hunting for some decent linen and maybe even some furniture for her sister instead, Fitzwilliam has made it clear that her sister's comfort need not depend on her personal savings. He will not hand out money to people who are likely to spend it unwisely, but if Elizabeth wants to spend some in their name, buying her sister essentials she needs to live in a style more fitting for Mrs Darcy's sister, she is very welcome to it. Her musings are soon interrupted by her beloved turning around in her arms to face her.

'I did feel bad about leaving you by yourself with Wickham, my love,' he says, whilst kissing her eagerly. 'But since we came here partly to have him promoted I thought it wouldn't do to go against his ultimate superior's wishes. I hope it wasn't too bad, my love?'

She decides not to tell him everything, but not to lie either.

'It was moderately unpleasant, but Lydia was very pleased to see me, and I did learn some things from Wickham that will help me help her. Besides, I can handle my brother-in-law.'

'I'm sure you can, I bet he's still mooning over you. But you're here with me, lying in my arms, stroking me and kissing me. I love you more than ever, Elizabeth.'

And he proves it to her, until the curious round room starts to spin around her and she has to hold on to his strong arms not to drown in her love for him.

The next morning they take things very easy, again. They linger in their warm bed, admiring the view and taking plenty of time for each other. Then they repeat the dressing, except this time, Fanny goes all out on Elizabeth with accessories, her hair and even a dab of powder.

'Meeting Wickham again?' Fitzwilliam asks with uncharacteristic absence of jealousy. It's as if he finally realises there is but one person whom she can love.

'I hope not! But if he is there I'll deal with him. You know that's actually easier looking like this? Being Mrs Darcy, icon of fashion, makes me naturally arrogant. No, Lydia asked me to look the part, she was afraid to be laughed at by the girls at the camp who are not her friends, if I do not measure up to the Mrs Darcy of the papers.'

'You are the best sister, my love, to do this for her.'

'I don't mind so much anymore, I've gotten used to it. And it gives me an excuse to bring Fanny, to keep me looking splendid despite the wind and the salt. At least I'll have someone sensible to talk to, and since Fanny here still adores Wickham as her hero, she puts him in a very good mood.'

The girl is nodding all this time, in her eyes Wickham can do nothing wrong, she probably still sees the image of him flooring Grenfell right before her mind's eye.

'I feel more sorry for you, my love, you're the one who has to entertain someone entirely unconnected to you all day.'

'The colonel is all right, and I'm looking forward to riding his prize stallion. I have quite the reputation for being a connoisseur of horses, apparently. His wife will expect you to look the part as well, love, I'm afraid she'd also be devastated to have her friends ridicule her if the famous Mrs Darcy turns up with blowsy hair and without her renowned accessories and blushing cheeks.'

She did not bring enough jewellery and hats to wear something different every day of their visit, but by now, Fanny is a force to be reckoned with where fashion is concerned. Who knows what her maid may find, shopping in a totally different city. Talented designers can be found everywhere, not just in London, and the best ones often hide out in the slightly less affluent commercial areas, where they will be going today to find Lydia suitable furnishings for her little apartment.

This day, Bob will be at Elizabeth's disposal, and they all start out at the camp, having picked up Lydia at her home. Fortunately, Wickham is already off to work by the time they arrive, even ten minutes is too much time to spend in his presence, seeing him ogle Elizabeth with undisguised yearning. It will only make Darcy jealous and to no purpose at all, Elizabeth loves only him, and he trusts her to keep Wickham at a proper distance.

Once at the camp they separate, Lydia will show her sister around, whilst Darcy will tell Wickham the good news, then have his own tour of the camp with the colonel, who by now will have recovered from the little sprint Bob allowed the team yesterday after lunch, on a straight and deserted stretch of road he had scouted out on their way out to lunch. It was Bob's suggestion they entertain the colonel with a little burst of speed on their way back, and the colonel accepted wholeheartedly, but arrived back at the camp bleach-white and with his knees shaking. Good to know a colonel of the army can be frightened by something his cousin Anne thought great fun.

'Damn it, Darcy, that was the ride of my life! I suppose I'll let you ride my new stallion tomorrow, I may be able to look an enemy into the whites of his eyes, but this clearly requires a whole different kind of courage.'

And when he took leave of Darcy, he went to the box and shook hands with a totally startled Bob.

'You may be braver than a lot of my soldiers, my good man. Thank you for the experience.'

But today Bob will have to control himself and the horses, for he will be driving Elizabeth and her sister through town. They have dropped off Darcy at the same inconspicuous barracks as yesterday, where the colonel receives him with obvious pleasure.

'Darcy, my boy! My aide has sent for Ensign Wickham as soon as he saw your team coming, he'll be here in five minutes. What do you say we await him in my study? Keep him standing?'

That is a fine idea, especially since the colonel has offered a lieutenancy in the rifles for Wickham instead of the ensignship Darcy was originally aiming for. And if Darcy has to suffer indignities to attain Wickham's new position, like being addressed as 'Darcy, my boy,' Wickham, as beneficiary of Darcy's efforts, can endure some, too.

And so Wickham is kept standing, as Colonel Drummond lectures his ensign about the dangers and responsibilities involved in leading a party of expert marksmen into the thick of battle without the protection of a set formation, to bring confusion to the enemy, but at the risk of friendly fire and exposure to the enemy.

Wickham stands proud and as tall as a medium-sized man can, and replies respectfully whenever that is called for. Then it is Darcy's turn to speak, and he tries to make the occasion count, telling his hated brother-in-law that from this day on he will be Lieutenant Wickham of the first ever Rifle Corps in the service of His Majesty King George the Third of Great Britain and Ireland. Though Wickham is stunned, he manages not to show his joy beyond a smile and a 'thank you' to both gentlemen that comes right from the heart. They congratulate him, then send him on his way to pack his gear, take leave of his men and move to the other side of the camp. For now, for it is not clear, yet, where the Rifle Corps will be stationed in the near future.

When he is gone from the room the colonel states, 'I find it hard to believe he did all those debauched things you told me about yesterday, and I know you well enough by now, Darcy, that you didn't tell me all. He is an exemplary soldier, but of course I know good soldiers aren't always good civilians. Which I suppose proves it's better this way, though he has chosen a dangerous path for himself. Well, that's obviously his own choice, he will be even better placed in the Rifle Corps, we've done our share, now it's his own turn to prove himself to his captain and to his men. Let's have some coffee, then explore the camp. Maybe we'll run into your little missus and her sister, since they were planning to do the same.'

Elizabeth is enjoying herself with Lydia and Janet, Lydia's best friend. In her company, Elizabeth barely recognises her youngest sister, Lydia loses the entitlement that has always characterised her, as if she has a right to amusement and all the other shallow expectations she seems to hold of life. With Janet, Lydia seems almost adult. They talk about the news, about finances, those of small things like groceries, but nonetheless things that never used to occupy any space in Lydia's mind. Though Lydia is still very pleased to see Mrs Darcy dressed up as if she's going to the opera in Milan, especially when she can hail a few ladies also in the camp and introduce Elizabeth to them as her sister. Her not-friends, Elizabeth guesses.

But Janet greets Elizabeth with true interest and more than a little joy.

'I'm so glad you decided to pay Lydia a visit, Mrs Darcy, she has been through so much heartbreak the last few weeks.' Her eyes give Elizabeth another message: I need to speak to you in private and it is important. Elizabeth nods in acknowledgement and replies, 'I've wanted to meet you since Lydia first told me about you. It was clear you've managed to teach her what our sister Jane and myself never seemed able to get her to actually listen to.'

They will get a moment together, and if not, Elizabeth will pay her a visit one of these days.

But as it turns out there is no need, for when they arrive at the watering place, Lydia sees one of her favourite officers and she runs off to greet him. Some things will never change, Elizabeth thinks, and then she turns to Janet to hear what Lydia's friend has to say.

'Mrs Darcy, I need to tell you, just after the birth of Lydia's poor baby boy, the midwife said it was deformed, and suggested that usually happened as a kind of punishment for sins. Lydia must have heard that, for she has been in agony since, fearing she caused her baby's death by living in sin with Wickham for a few weeks, and not going to church regularly. I advised her to talk to a minister, but I don't think she has done that, for I asked Mr Blaze and he hasn't seen her yet. Maybe you can get her to go, or if she doesn't listen to you maybe your husband can? Lydia respects him above anyone else, if he tells her to go she certainly will.'

'Won't you call me Elizabeth, Janet?'

The woman is not certain she heard right, but she's older than Elizabeth and clearly very respectable.

'Please? I'm not yet of age, Janet, I'm just a girl like Lydia, really.'

'All right, Elizabeth, I'll try. Will you ask Lydia?'

'Her maid says Lydia is going to church with her family, but dares not speak to the minister because she needs to make amends first. I'll talk to my sister, do you think it would be best if she goes to the camp minister?'

'I do think so, yes. If something were to happen to Wickham he will be much more understanding towards his wife than a normal clergyman. Mr Blaze was a soldier himself, he knows what drives a man into the army and what he is likely to experience on a battlefield. He has saved many a marriage by helping wives understand what their husbands have been through in France or the colonies.'

'You are right, she needs to go to Mr Blaze. I'll talk to her and we'll join this Sunday's service, if it's permitted.'

'I'm sure you'll be very welcome at Mr Blaze's chapel, he is a very superior creature, though he looks a little haunted himself sometimes.'

It's just incredible how easy Janet is to talk to, but Lydia is coming back towards them, dragging a young, blushing officer along with her.

'I'd like to talk to you some more, Elizabeth, but I suppose we'll have little time together this week?'

'We're leaving next Friday, and I suppose my husband will have no further obligations after today, except in the evenings. We've promised to have dinner with the colonel's family, and I suspect we may get a few other invitations there, but I guess there is not as much social activity here as in London?'

Her voice must have sounded hopeful, and Janet's face shows how wrong Elizabeth is.

'I'm sorry, Elizabeth, but in your husband's and Colonel Drummond's circle there is something going on practically every day of the week. Card-parties, hunting-parties, music-parties, the usual, but there is a rather good theatre in Newcastle as well, the Theatre Royale. It's run by Mr Kemble, a very well-known actor, and he is a good friend of the colonel's. I'm afraid you may get very busy the next week or so. Too bad Wickham's just an ensign, a few nights' entertainment would probably do wonders for Lydia. There's a lot less action for officers and their wives, though we often meet in private, at one of our apartments. Still, I suppose there will be plenty of time for the two of us to meet by day, Mr Darcy will be asked to hunt with the colonel, he is reputed to be something of a sportsman and he is very fond of company.'

'Lizzy, Lizzy, meet Thomas! He's an ensign, like Wickham, and I just adore him! Isn't he handsome? I thought Kitty might like him but papa wouldn't let her go, and then she married that French fellow, what's his name again?'

'Lascelles, Lydia, and you know he is very rich.'

'But he can't be as nice as Thomas, nor as handsome.'

The officer, now blushing even more at Lydia's impetuousness towards what seems at first sight a very fine lady, is indeed very handsome. But Elizabeth has always thought Lascelles is, too, and he is not just very respectable and rich, he is also supernaturally smart. But Elizabeth feels obliged to save the poor lad from his discomfort, and offers him her hand in the army-style, to shake it.

'Pleased to meet you, Ensign Thomas, I'm Lydia's second eldest sister, Elizabeth Darcy.'

Her informal greeting belies her appearance, and the poor chap soon finds his feet and frames a nice reply.

'Pleased to meet you, too, Mrs Darcy. My last name is Howard, we're quite informal here but I do have one, if you were wondering. I was devastated that Lydia's sister got married, she promised her to me.'

The last is said with a wink and Elizabeth feels kind of reassured; in a place like this Lydia will never have to feel lonely, even if Wickham was not very warm towards her yesterday.

They talk about army life with Ensign Howard, until suddenly Wickham turns up out of nowhere. He is not a welcome sight to Elizabeth, though she is in no danger of finding herself alone with him here and she really isn't scared of him. His appearance is just a little smudge on an otherwise pleasant day.

She has never seen him so glad before, Fitzwilliam did say he got the promotion, they must have told him just now. His happiness becomes him, he looks even more handsome than usual, as he scoops up Lydia where she is standing, turns her around full circle and says, 'I'm in, Lydia, Darcy got me into the Rifle Corps. And guess what?'

Lydia of course does not look altogether happy. She is pleased to get such loving attention from the man she adores, but his message is not nearly as welcome to her as it is to him. Still she manages to look interested. Wickham is going to make his announcement in style.

'Ladies and gentlemen, well, gentleman actually, you see here before you a newly made lieutenant! Lieutenant Wickham of the first Rifle Corps, doesn't that sound like music in your ears? I've been hoping to get this chance, and now it's real.'

Even to Lydia, lieutenant has a magical sound, and she hugs and kisses her husband eagerly.

'I'm sorry to say, my dear, that this means I will be wearing a green coat from now on. Alas, no more becoming red coats for me.'

'Hmpf, it'll be a lot safer if you ask me.' Janet also hugs Wickham and kisses him soundly on both cheeks. 'Congratulations, dear friend. Does this mean you will be moving to another camp?'

'It may, dear Janet, I understand the Core is all very new still. I'm to meet my new commander tomorrow, I guess we'll know more then.'

'We'll miss both of you if you have to move.'

And that is a certainty: Lydia will not find friends like this again very quickly.

Ensign Howard shakes his friend's hand with energy. 'Congratulations, my man. You deserve it, you will do really well. The men all love you, they'd die for you. And you're the best marksman even with a damned musket, imagine what you'll be able to do with a rifle.'

Of course Wickham now stands right in front of Elizabeth, and she is not going to be missish about this, not in front of Lydia's sympathetic friends. He is waiting for her reaction, expecting nothing more than a prim curtsey and a carefully phrased formal congratulation, but he's going to get a lot more. Like Janet, she hugs him firmly, then kisses him on both cheeks. 'Well done, George, you deserve it.'

It's a bit of Frederick's smartness seizing an opportunity: if he really loves her, he'll be flustered by her spontaneous touch. Watching his reaction, she realises this kind of smartness sometimes carries its own punishment, as he blushes hotly and stammers, 'Thank you, Mrs Darcy. But you already knew, didn't you? Mr Darcy must have told you?'

'He did tell me about the rifles, but I suspect he didn't even know about the lieutenancy. Your superiors must have recommended you highly, Lieutenant Wickham, to let you make this huge step. Congratulations!'

So he was telling the truth, which pleases her for him, but for herself she'd rather had him lie about his affection for her. Now she even feels a bit sorry for him, not too much, he did it to himself, she is still very much convinced he did not love her at that time when she almost loved him. Or loved him, she cannot even be certain, for she knew they would never be able to make a match of it and therefore didn't allow herself to be carried away by her feelings.

But fortunately the embarrassing moment passes quickly, and they resume their walk through the camp, Wickham now joining them but walking with his wife, Ensign Howard having gone back to his duties. Janet throws Elizabeth a significant look, and Elizabeth catches her eye and shrugs, she can't help it if Wickham allows himself all kinds of fantasies. Smart woman, though, to spot it. Talking to Janet, Elizabeth finds out all kinds of interesting facts about the worthy woman's husband, another officer in this camp but a little older, more Colonel Fitzwilliam's age. She has two small children, both currently being minded by her mother, who lives with them. Elizabeth hopes she will have the opportunity to introduce Fitzwilliam to this remarkable woman, maybe after church this Sunday.

After a disappointing tour in which he doesn't meet Elizabeth, as he had hoped a tiny bit, Darcy finds himself enjoying the colonel's company nonetheless. They drive to his nearby estate in the colonel's ornate carriage with beautifully matched but average quality horses. There they have lunch with Mrs Drummond, a stately looking slim lady of the colonel's age. The couple obviously love each other, this cannot have been an arranged marriage, and again Darcy misses Elizabeth tremendously. This was supposed to be their second honeymoon, and now they are separated more often and longer than they are at home!

But after lunch they go out to the stables, and the colonel's new stallion is indeed a prize, a magnificent animal with plenty of spirit. Darcy can see, or is it a matter of feeling?, that this horse is even more sensitive than his own black, he will be a real challenge to ride in an exciting hunt, with beaters making noises all over the moors they are hunting, and dogs and helpers underfoot. Darcy can't wait to try him under the saddle. And he watches as the high-strung stallion is indeed saddled, a rather young boy hoisting a heavy contraption with a high cantle and pommel on the poor horse's back. Darcy can't ride that! It's obviously bothering the horse and he'll be unable to move in that thing. He addresses the stablehand politely.

'Is he always ridden with that saddle? It looks very uncomfortable for both rider and horse.'

Checking the way the saddle lies on the horse's back Darcy is certain it doesn't even fit properly.

The boy looks about him, spies his master and all the other stablehands busy elsewhere, then remarks in a very low voice, 'I think it actually hurts him where you checked it extra carefully, but I spoke up once and was reprimanded severely for being meddlesome and disrespectful. Since then I've been keeping my mouth shut but mark my words, someone is going to get hurt. He's going to fight it and injure or even kill his rider, or it's going to destroy his back and kill him.'

'Well, I'm not going to ride on this antiquity. Do you have another saddle in mind?'

'Yes, sir, but could you please order me to get it so I won't get scolded or worse?'

'Certainly. Boy!' That last is said for all to hear, and the boy replies as audibly.

'Yes sir?'

'I can't ride this horse with this saddle: it's too narrow and pinches him right here in the small of the back. Please get me another saddle, a lower one so we can both move freely.'

The boy is off before anyone can comment.

'Are you sure you want to ride such a spirited horse with no more support than just the stirrups, Darcy?'

'If he is truly dangerous, Colonel, I will not ride him at all. I've a very devoted wife, I can't risk breaking my neck. I'll try him with a normal saddle, and if I don't trust him I will beg you to find me another horse. This saddle is damaging your horse, and the pain is making him angry. Such a saddle is not a solution to a horse being fractious. He may need some extra training by a professional, they can work miracles. I have Mrs Darcy's first hunter in training with a very able lady as we speak.'

'Your wife hunts?'

'She is certainly planning to, this fall. First she needs to learn how to shoot and how to handle her hunter, jump obstacles, get used to the speed. We'll have such fun this summer!'

The boy is back with an old saddle, supple and well-maintained, exactly what Hugo would use on a young and green horse. He removes the castle-like object from the stallion's back, placing it on a sturdy railing to free his hands. Then he quickly but gently lowers the old saddle to the hunter's back, leaving the girth loose for Darcy to inspect the fit of this replacement. It's perfect, this lad has an eye for horses. He may want to consider a change of employer.

'You can't expect Mr Darcy of Pemberley to ride on an old castoff like that, Smith! You should know better by now, go fetch a decent saddle instantly!'

The boy looks at Darcy in hopeless entreaty, he is not a happy servant, he doesn't look like a servant at all, frankly, and no-one seems to understand that this boy knows his job better than the higher-ranked stablemen.

'I will have this saddle, Colonel. It's a young horse, he needs a supple and well-worn saddle and this one is a perfect fit. Young Smith here seems to have an eye for horses.'

And to the boy, loud enough to be heard by everyone present, 'This will do fine, Smith. You wait until you see my team tomorrow. You'll love them. If you want to, you can help my own man care for them. Who do I need to tell?'

Smith points at an elderly man holding the colonel's hunter.

'I'll take care of it, you check the girth once I'm on. I want this saddle to lie absolutely still.'

It's dangerous, Darcy's glad Elizabeth has no clue what he is doing here or she'd have a fit, but it's so exciting. The young horse sidles as it feels Darcy's weight settle, but he is not afraid and he follows the movement perfectly. Now back to Peter's instructions, they have become second nature for the most part since Darcy generally rides his super-sensitive black, but in the case of this nervous horse it's best to go back to the absolute beginnings.

'Do you have a paddock, Smith?'

The boy nods.

'Will you lead me to it, no, don't take the reins, just walk in front of me, I'll not let him walk right over you, trust me. He likes you, he'll follow you and calm down, until he is used to my scent and seat. Do you ride him to exercise him? Oh, one moment please.'

Darcy now addresses the colonel, 'I'll be in your paddock for ten minutes, getting a feel for the horse, Colonel!'

Then back to the boy, 'Now, where were we..'

The boy looks over his shoulder and says sadly, 'I can ride really well, my father and the other stablehands at home taught me, but here they say I'm too young to trust with the valuable horses. I only get to exercise the old plugs the mistress uses.'

'That is a very responsible task, Smith, I hope you do it well so your lady is safe. Have you ever ridden a lady's saddle?'

The boy looks as if Darcy's gone mad.

'The best rider in my stables has, repeatedly. It's a real challenge, and it keeps him aware of the special problems a lady faces when riding. I haven't dared, yet, I admire my wife for riding one in town. At Pemberley she rides astride, I've just bought her a real hunter as a surprise.'

By now they have reached a sizeable paddock, and Smith opens the gate to let Darcy in, then closes up.

'I'll try, sir, if I dare. The others will make fun of me.'

'Be brave Smith! As I'm going to be now.'

And he runs the horse through every exercise he can remember from Peter's lessons, using his seat to direct the horse, making it bunch itself up then lengthen again, trying its paces riding circles, eights and zigzags. Changing direction in as tight a circle as the horse can manage, it's a bit stiff, no wonder with such a saddle poking in its tender back. This one is just perfect, firm enough but not stiff, and he can feel the horse relax under him. A canter, several halts, the horse gives him everything he asks for, Peter has taught Darcy to ask in a way a horse can understand, and this one has been trained very well. If it doesn't do what it's asked for, the rider is not making himself clear.

When he is done and back into the now, he can hear applause.

'You're the best horseman I've ever seen, Darcy! That's a whole new horse!'

'It's a very well-trained animal, Colonel, but very sensitive. Any movement you make, he reacts to, even if you don't notice it yourself. One of my stablehands has taught me to be aware of every little movement my body makes, and see how the horse reacts. That is what I was doing just now, check how much he knows, and how much he feels. The answer is everything, on both counts. I'm ready to go out.'

The moors are very beautiful but rather inhospitable at this time of the year. Contrary to what Darcy expected, the colonel is a very proficient rider, he just doesn't seem to match with this high-strung stallion. Too bad, for it's even better than his black, it's a fabulous athlete and an excellent choice to use as a stallion, provided one doesn't mind getting high-strung foals. Which the colonel may not appreciate.

There is not much game to hunt, the hounds do not give voice even once and all the game the riders can spot are a few fowl in the distance. But Darcy doesn't care at all, riding this magnificent animal is enough of a thrill for him. He gets to try a full-blown gallop on a drier stretch of land, and the huntsman tells him a lot about staying safe in a moor. Darcy prefers to follow this chap around, then go out alone on his own grounds, though sadly not on this horse. Oh well, maybe Hugo will find him a hunter like this some day, it would be a waste to geld him anyway, and Darcy has no mares to put him to.

Then suddenly he wants to be back with Elizabeth, he has been away from her long enough. Fortunately they are already on their way back, the feeling is so sudden, and so strong, the horse lays back his ears, Darcy's sudden longing affects him. The colonel will never be able to ride this animal properly, the horse is so sensitive he can feel Darcy wanting to go home to Elizabeth. If he hurts his master by shying or bucking he will be destroyed, and that would also be a waste.

When they get back the colonel asks, 'And, what do you think, have I bought myself a good stallion? I thought so, but he is not performing as I expected.'

Darcy decides to be honest, though his host may not be pleased with the message.

'The horse is as perfect as you were told, I've not ridden a better one myself. But...he is so sensitive that he will always feel every twitch in your body, every finger you move, every tightening of your muscles. I thought of my beloved and he felt me tense slightly. It has taken me weeks of lessons and an expert teacher to be able to ride a horse like this. And his foals will also inherit his temperament.

You seem to prefer calm, solid horses, and I wonder whether you will ever be able to trust this fabulous creature. He will always be wondering whether your slight adjusting of your weight means you want to go really fast, or not. You will find him wilful and undependable, when he is merely reflecting your mood and your movements. So, the question is, are you prepared to adapt to this fabulous horse? And do you want offspring like him?'

The colonel nods, he must have been afraid to hear something like this.

'Smith told me, but I'm afraid I silenced him, he's so young and cocksure. I thought the horse was wilful, but you say he cannot help it. You think Smith can handle him? Train him to ignore tiny things and just mind large things?'

'He may, yes. But possibly not entirely, there is no guarantee. But I beg you to give the combination a chance, they are both very talented and special. To dare stand up for an animal like Smith did just now takes courage, and he picked exactly the right saddle. And should either one of them turn out unsuitable for your stable, please let me know. I'll find a spot in mine. Boy or horse, though I'd probably have to geld the horse, I have no time to raise horses. Anyway, Colonel, thank you so much for letting me experience your stallion, and for showing me the moors. Mrs Darcy will be sorry to have missed them.'

The colonel is not insulted, merely thoughtful. He nods, and when they get back to the stables he addresses Smith, 'You, boy, come here.'

The boy approaches, hesitantly, but not humbly. He expects a scolding and is ready to take it.

'Would you like to take him under your wing? To exercise and train a little further?'

'Yes, sir.'

'And maybe train me as well, to ultimately be able to ride him myself?'

'I think riding in the paddock and using a saddle that fits would do wonders, sir. And no oats, sir. They drive him mad with energy.'

'Make it so, boy. And if you still don't like it here in half a year, you can move to Mr Darcy's place. Wait until you see his team, you'll want to. Until you sit behind them when they go all out, then you'll die of fright. I know, because I have been there, and you know I've seen action abroad five times.'

As the colonel drives Darcy all the way to Whitley he is still contemplative. Finally he speaks his thoughts.

'I'm glad you told me the truth, Darcy, I was blaming the horse and thought Smith insolent, when he was merely trying to help. I suspect he's farm-bred, you know, farmers are so proud and self-reliant. You seem to have a way with men and horses, too bad you're not an army man, I've need of a really good captain for my cavalry unit.'

That's where he got his preference for solid, stable horses! The army!

'I suppose you ride a horse when you're in action, Colonel?'

'I do, but not a hunter, of course. I have a very strong, hardy field horse. It's level-headed enough to ignore noise, it won't shy from the smell of blood, and it will even stand firm in the face of other horses dying or routing. Much as I love my hunters, the bond a soldier has with his horse cannot be equalled.'

'Well, that's it, then. I bet your field horse can do anything a hunter can, except maybe make other gentlemen jealous. Why not use it for hunting if you enjoy riding it? I bet an army horse likes a good run as much as any healthy spirited animal does. And if you want to make a name for yourself as breeder of hunters, why not develop a sturdier, cooler kind of hunter? Your field horses as mothers for strength and intelligence, your gorgeous hunter as the father for a little extra speed and good looks. The Drummond Hunter, favourite of the field.'

That is a revelation to the colonel, and his mind is working fast.

'I think you may be right, I do consider hunters in general dumb and overstrung. For me, a horse should be suited to its purpose, whereas you seem to enjoy finding a kind of bond with it. I generally do not like to ride hunters because they waste so much energy fidgeting. I will consider what you said, Darcy, I like hunting but I like my field horse a lot better than any hunter, if I could combine his useful traits with the beauty of a hunter, get rid of the nervousness, I think a lot of men my age and over would be happy to use them for hunting. Will you join me again tomorrow? I'll show you the army stables and my field horse. I like the way you think.'

'As much as I'd like to, Colonel, Mrs Darcy will not accept my spending another whole day away from her, I'm sorry. We were planning to visit some local views, maybe a mine, or a quarry. And we will be joining you for dinner tomorrow.'

'True, I don't want to steal you from your wife. Too bad ladies don't like horses as much as we do, it would save a lot of complaining about being left behind when we go out to hunt.'

'That is why Elizabeth asked me to teach her how to ride, she saw I needed to ride out and wanted to join me. Fortunately she has come to love it.'

'Then by all means, bring her along, Darcy. Why not plan a little hunt on the moors for Monday, and she can use the most spirited of my wife's horses, it's in fact an army horse that didn't quite make the army standard for durability. And after lunch we can visit a stud farm where they breed and train army horses, it's half an hour's drive, just enough to keep your team in shape for their return journey.'

'I like the idea. But Mrs Darcy has the last say. Can we let you know tomorrow evening?'

'Certainly. I'll do some more thinking, I like the idea of breeding more dependable hunters, I may borrow a different stallion to serve my hunter mares.'

Darcy supposes it's not too much to ask that he spends one more day with the colonel, the man has done him an immense favour getting his brother-in-law promoted, and maybe even more so taking Wickham in the first place a little over a year ago. For Wickham seems to have proven his value as an officer by now, or he would not have been selected for the Rifle Corps and promoted as well.

His beloved is already waiting for him when he returns, she is enjoying a stroll along the beach and literally comes running when she sees the carriage arriving. Despite wanting to be alone with her before dressing for dinner, he cannot insult the colonel by not introducing him to his wife, which is done quickly enough. Of course Elizabeth's hair shows she has been walking in the sea wind, but Colonel Drummond still seems rather impressed by the lady he has read so much about in the papers. She receives his gallant greeting with apparent pleasure, and replies politely to his enquiries after her enjoyment of Newcastle.

'It's a beautiful town, colonel, my sister and her friend knew their way around very well, of course, so I saw the prettiest parts, the glassworks, the churches, but of course mostly the shopping areas. My maid found some amazing pieces of jewellery, she has an eye for treasures. I guess you'll get to see them when we dine with you tomorrow, I suspect your lady wife appreciates formal attire?'

The colonel nods and affirms.

'She has invited all her friends, and some of them are very worldly, you may have heard of Mr Stephen Kemble, a famous actor, he and his lovely wife run the Theatre Royale, they're great friends of ours. Mrs Drummond would certainly appreciate it if you look just like the papers say, daring and yet in excellent taste.'

'I will try not to disappoint her, Colonel Drummond.'

The colonel bows, then takes leave.

'I wish the two of you a very pleasant day exploring Newcastle, and please don't forget to ask Mrs Darcy about joining us on an excursion.'

'I will not forget, colonel, please do not worry.'

They part company, and as soon as the carriage is out of sight, Darcy takes his beautiful beloved in his arms and kisses her ardently.

'I've missed you so badly! He wanted me to come again tomorrow, but I need to be with you for one whole day, just you and me. I'll go wherever you want to go, if I may just hold your hand all day.'

'What's this excursion the colonel wants me to join?'

Darcy tells her and she is indeed interested. Then they change, taking a little extra time to spend on each other before letting Fanny attend to Elizabeth's attire. Talking can wait for half an hour, this is what people do on their honeymoon. During dinner they talk, that is an advantage of being separated all day, one certainly has something to discuss in the evening. Elizabeth has had a useful day, learning more about Lydia's well-being, helping her find some things she needs or wants. Admiring the sights of Newcastle.

After another stroll on the beach they are pleased to retreat to the turret room and start their loving all over again.


	96. Chapter 96

Chapter 106

The next day is like a dream come true, driving to town in their least conspicuous clothes, visiting a debating club with the largest collection of books they have ever seen. Time flies while they are there, and since these books are also for sale, a large parcel is taken back to their carriage by a porter. They view even more glassworks, and have lunch in a quaint old inn. Then Bob drives them to a coal mine, which is rather a depressing sight, and then a limestone quarry, which is rather impressive. They ramble through the parts open to the public, and admire the unique vegetation of limestone areas. Too bad it's winter, a couple of other sightseers tells them the flowers are spectacular in summer.

And before they know it, their lovely day is at an end and it is time to go home and dress for dinner. Elizabeth wants to feel the carriage fly, and there is plenty of space here, Bob must be getting used by now to the sickening lurch of the horses leaping into a full gallop with only the box to hold on to. He insists on Fanny moving inside the carriage, though, before he lets the horses have their heads. Elizabeth reacts like Anne and is delighted, Fanny only slightly less so. Maybe the colonel was afraid because he is used to being in control.

Still a bit giggly from the fast ride, they file into the familiar building of the inn, Elizabeth deciding there is no time for a little privacy before she gets dressed: if Fanny is to go all out on her toilette, she will need every minute they have left.

'Will you come with us and keep Bob company at the colonel's house?' Elizabeth asks.

'I'd love to, ma'am,' the girl replies, 'I'm starting to enjoy seeing how other people's households are run. I don't think I can stay a personal maid forever, maybe I can learn to become a housekeeper by seeing many different ways of running a household.'

'I think that may be very true. You'd have to work for an experienced housekeeper for a few years, but seeing how a lot of other houses are run will certainly add to your knowledge. Do they treat you well as visiting staff? And right here in the inn?'

'Oh yes, ma'am, we get a lot of respect. Bob says Colonel Drummond's household is reputed to be very formal, and I suppose we'll soon find out. Mrs Wickham's maid was very nice, she adores Mr Wickham but of course I do, too, since he rescued me that night. Abbey is very worried about her mistress. And I so loved that you let me accompany you on your shopping trip, I saw such wondrous things, I still cannot believe I'm here, doing all this when I've never been this far from London before in my life.

The landlady here is different from the staff in a great house, she treats everybody the same, and she lets Bob and me have our dinner together in the breakfast-room, as if we are a couple on our honeymoon ourselves. Says we are her guests as much as anyone else here. It's so romantic, and none of my friends ever got to stroll on the beach with their fiancée. No, we're quite satisfied, ma'am, Bob just loves being in charge of the thoroughbreds, and wasn't he a hero to let them run that fast sitting on a simple bench? I thought he'd certainly fall off, but he said it's actually the best place to sit, very exciting, you can see everything flash by.'

Fanny is one of those people who can chat and work at the same time, and while she is relating her experiences so far, Elizabeth's hair is once again made to fall in perfect ringlets, her dress is in perfect order, her powder applied. Then she rummages in a drawer of the simple dresser, and takes out a package.

'Will you wear this one tonight, ma'am? It'll be a perfect match with this dress.'

'I will, Fanny. I want the whole company to know that I'm not too good to wear local workmanship. Show it to the master before you put it on, please, Fanny. Or he'll be breathing down my neck ogling it, and he and I will get all distracted again and be late for our appointment.'

Poor Fanny is still so innocent, she blushes delightfully, but she does dare spill a little gossip proving she is a city girl after all.

'Oh, Mrs Darcy, Mr Darcy, you know the businessmen staying here have staff as well, clerks mostly, but some drivers, too, and even one valet. They've noticed your disappearing act just before dinner, and they're all mooning over young love or making coarse jokes. They have no respect for Mr Darcy's name.'

'They probably don't even know my name, Fanny,' Darcy tells her, only a little put out over being the subject of speculations of that kind. 'This is not a place where my family and connections would be staying. They probably think we are a young couple having their honeymoon.'

Meanwhile Darcy studies the necklace Fanny handed him, an intricate pendant made of some kind of beautiful amber beads set in silver. It must have cost a fortune, though that is not at all how he knows Elizabeth. But she will undoubtedly tell him what those stones are, and whether he will have to sell one of the horses to pay for it.

'Do you like it?' Elizabeth asks.

'I love it, but what is it made of? It looks like amber.'

'I told you he wouldn't spot it, Fanny, you really have a knack for these things. No-one in London will realise the admired Mrs Darcy is in fact wearing glass beads! We bought one in red, and in blue as well. Rubies and sapphires. They cost practically nothing, Fanny bought a few without the silver for her sisters and herself. And the good people of London will think you spent a fortune in precious stones, with us laughing our heads off.'

'Glass? This is glass? You're not serious! I've never seen anything like it.'

'In fact you have, at the glassworks today. But jewellery doesn't interest you unless I'm wearing it. So you checked out the vases and the burned glass windows and you skipped the fancy work. I'm very curious whether anyone at Colonel Drummond's will recognise it as local work.'

Then it's time for Fanny to bully her master's hair into shape, arrange his coat to perfection and tie his cravat for him, she must have been practising for her work is starting to approach Simon's level of proficiency.

When they arrive at Colonel Drummond's in the dark and Fitzwilliam hands Elizabeth out of the carriage, a snub-nosed boy of around sixteen is talking to Bob.

'Your master ask me to assist you with these beauties, I suppose they are rather high-strung, being thoroughbreds?'

Bob, always friendly, replies, 'I never have problems with them, but then, I'm a very calm kind of person. These chaps reflect your own mind, if you're cool, they're the same. But they will not forgive you little mistakes. If the master wants you to help me, he trusts you to be a calm and friendly horseman.'

'He was very nice to me yesterday, did me a lot of good with a horse I thought wasn't treated right. Nobody listens to me because I'm the youngest here, but my father works with horses and I've helped him since I was seven or eight.'

Elizabeth cannot hear the rest, for the butler takes them into the house, a grand affair, but by now she is used to that, imagine the circle in which she finds herself nowadays, that marble facades and portrait galleries no longer impress her. Though she cannot remember being inordinately impressed with Netherfield or Rosings either. Pemberley, yes, but Pemberley is different from all the great houses she has seen so far, maybe it's its lack of ostentation that endeared its master to her, for there is no doubt that seeing the beautiful, unadorned grounds and the expensive but tasteful interior made her take Mr Darcy a lot more seriously. Still, she would be happy with Fitzwilliam if they lived at Longbourn together, and even in a parsonage, though preferably not Lady Catherine's.

The butler seems awfully formal, strange, for Fitzwilliam said the colonel himself is a bit too informal to his liking, calling him Darcy and boy without invitation. Fitzwilliam guessed it must be the effect of the army, where men depend on each other for survival. But the butler seems unaware of this, he is so correct he doesn't seem to be altogether human. It doesn't make Elizabeth feel much at home here, but maybe the company will make up for that.

When they are shown into the richest drawing-room Elizabeth has ever seen, though in excellent taste, she can see they must be a little late. She guesses there are at least fifteen guests present already, and most of them are men! Officers, most likely. Her eyes are drawn to the room itself, its magnificent high ceiling, cream woodwork, midnight blue velvet curtains and furniture, all in the latest fashion except for the ceiling, which is painted expertly with, as far as Elizabeth can tell in a few seconds, biblical scenes in the Renaissance style. Well, if she were making over a house with such a ceiling she would not have it painted over either, that would be a crime. Priceless crystal chandeliers and a walnut sideboard complete the impression of staggering riches, and all this in the house of a colonel of the army? Who most likely rents this place because his stationing here must be temporary? Intriguing!

But first the introductions. She has met the colonel, of course, and he is still as informal and friendly as ever. His wife does not like to see him do that, and compensates by showing Fitzwilliam and herself every civility that is their due, and a little extra. Probably because of their 'fame' as public figures who have been mentioned in the papers, for Mrs Drummond praises Elizabeth's ensemble and her personality so excessively it makes her feel almost embarrassed and shy. Of course Elizabeth prefers the colonel's easy familiarity.

'Mrs Darcy, you are even more beautiful than the papers say, and I can see now why they call you an icon of fashion, I have never seen a collier like you are wearing but I'm dead certain it will be the next fashion.'

As every attempt to intimidate Elizabeth makes her more courageous, so formality apparently encourages her to become familiar, and she finds herself replying gaily, 'Why thank you, Mrs Drummond, you are looking very much up to date on the latest fashion yourself!'

Which is true, she is wearing the current high fashion, though of course the colonel's wife is nearing fifty, so she has made some adjustments befitting her age, though her figure is not as portly as that of a lot of ladies her age. The good lady beams, and Elizabeth adds playfully, 'If my collier is to be the next fashion, Mrs Drummond, the craftsmen in your beautiful town will no doubt profit, for my maid discovered this treasure in one of your local shops.'

The lady is suitably impressed, and forgets all her decorum for a moment to remark, 'I cannot believe it, Mrs Darcy! Your maid found this exquisite piece? Right here in Newcastle? I have never managed to find a silversmith who sold precious stones, I have mine brought in from London.'

Elizabeth goes for the kill, smiling.

'Oh, but they're not real precious stones, Mrs Drummond. They're glass. We bought them at the glassworks in town. My staff and I don't care that much whether what I wear is expensive or real, we just search for a certain look, a certain sense of style. And that can be found anywhere, as long as one recognises it. My maid is an expert, and I have an advisor in London, well, two actually. The three of them together have helped me stay ahead of fashion.'

Mrs Drummond now looks hungry, she wants to be in fashion, desperately. Money is no object. There must be a reason, and Elizabeth will try to find out. Hopefully Fanny will pick up some information as well, in the servants' common-room.

'May send my maid over to choose some of these, Mrs Darcy? Or do you want to keep them exclusive? I'd understand.'

'I'm back to London next week, Mrs Drummond, besides, the local craftspeople would profit from your patronage. Though I would advise you to pay the glassworks a visit yourself, Mrs Drummond. It's a very inspiring place to view, they have so many beautiful objects and most are for sale. You have such a beautiful house, you clearly have a talent for decorating, I'm sure you will love the vases and the fancy objects they make. Stained and burned glass, too. The colours are vibrant and they can make any shape you wish. It's less than twenty minutes from here, and their little coffee-corner has the best brew I've ever had.'

'Thank you for pointing that out to me, Mrs Darcy! I've never even thought of going there, though I've lived on this estate all my life. I grew up here, you see, it was my father's estate, and when he died I inherited it. Theo and I run it together now, but when I die, my nephew will inherit. We never had any children, you see, we were in our thirties when we got married. Before we met I thought I was going to stay an old maid forever. He has made me so happy, though my family objected to him being of lesser standing. I never cared, I don't need their approval. I merely hope Theo will not be sent abroad again. Though I do try to keep up a certain air, a gentleman's house should look the part, don't you think?'

'I guess so, Mrs Drummond. I'm like your husband, from a different level of society. When I married Fitzwilliam, his houses were decorated to perfection already, he did that himself. But I love your feminine touch, and I'm glad you spared the ceiling.'

'You are the first person to notice that I did the decorating myself, most people hire someone to do that for them. But I like to do it. And the ceiling is indeed very old, my great-grandfather had it done by some famous Italian painter. I grew up admiring it, I could never destroy such a thing of beauty.'

It's obvious this lady is very likeable, and Elizabeth will enjoy talking to her some more, instead of being an upstart like herself and Jane this lady is the reverse, she married beneath her. But first they have to meet all the other guests, starting with a couple in their early forties. The husband seems quite average looking but the wife has an almost hypnotic charisma. Despite her age, she is attracting a lot of attention from the single officers, who seem to be mostly in their early thirties, Colonel Drummond's captains most likely. The man turns out to be a well-known actor from the famous Kemble family, Mr Stephen Kemble, who has taken charge of the Theatre Royale in Newcastle, and the lady is his wife, Mrs Elizabeth Kemble, née Satchell, a famous actress. Fitzwilliam shakes hands with both husband and wife, and Elizabeth is ready to do the same, when the man takes her hand and kisses it gallantly instead. Well, with his wife the object of so much attention, maybe he wants some for himself.

'Mrs Darcy,' he says, his voice is magnificent, a deep baritone that somehow gives her a little thrill, 'the papers have done you justice. Generally I feel a twinge of disappointment when I meet the object of such devotion as you have been in both the fashion and the gossip section, but in your case it is entirely deserved. And I can see you have been at the glassworks. I'm impressed. You have been in town for what, two or three days?'

'This is my third day, Mr Kemble, and my maid discovered these beautiful colliers yesterday. She is the one who deserves the credit. I'm very pleased you noticed they are a local product.'

'Eliza and I make a point of knowing what is going on in town. If we are to bring the people into our theatre, we need to know what makes them tick. And one cannot overestimate the value of good staff, we have had ours with us for at least a decade, we'll take them wherever we live. We're a team.'

Elizabeth now shakes hands with the other Elizabeth and finds her as charming as she appears. Then they meet a lot of captains, one of whom Fitzwilliam apparently already knows. That must be Wickham's former captain. They mingle and chat a lot, and during dinner Elizabeth finds the seating arrangements very formal indeed, which means that as Mr Darcy's wife her seat is pretty high up at the table, next to their hostess in fact. Fitzwilliam is on her other side, and Colonel Drummond is on his wife's other side, which gives her an excellent chance to get to know them a little.

They talk about decorating, Elizabeth doing most of the listening, starting to understand how to apply a little more femininity to a décor. Then she mentions Miss Darcy and her own sister decorating a room with antiques from the attic, and Mrs Drummond is wildly enthusiastic.

'I'm going to explore my own attics tomorrow, Mrs Darcy, what a grand idea! This house has been in my family for centuries, and some of the family were explorers, who knows what I'll find.'

After some time Colonel Drummond introduces his scheme to ride out on the moors and visit a stud farm afterwards, and Elizabeth can assure him that she will be very pleased to join in.

'I've always wanted to see a stud farm, so many beautiful horses in one place.'

'I cannot guarantee they will be beautiful, Mrs Darcy, these are not gentlemen's horses. I know the owner because we buy our army horses from him. Sturdy, stable horses, not the elegant hunter type you will be used to seeing.'

Elizabeth laughs heartily.

'At home our carriage horses were used for farm work, Colonel, you can imagine what they looked like. Though my father did always have at least one hunter in his stable when he was in his younger years. He prefers a less spirited horse now, though he still likes to hunt. It's hard to find a fast horse with a cool mind, but my father has always managed to do so.'

Why does this make Fitzwilliam look smug? He likes high-strung horses, he praised the colonel's dynamite stallion sky-high! Maybe its because he proposed to the colonel that he starts a breeding program for calmer hunters. Well, papa would be his first customer, if he could afford it.

'That is exactly what your husband proposed I might set up a breeding program for. Darcy, I like to pretend I'm a gentleman, but in my heart I'll always be an infantryman. We have the acreage, and my wife's family has always bred the best hunters in these parts. I've tried to get used to riding those beauties, but I suppose one has to start that at an earlier age. How old were you when you got your first horse?'

Fitzwilliam digs up some precious memories, with an irresistible smile.

'I've always had a pony, as far back as I can remember, but I got my first full-blooded hunter at twelve. I rode that pony like a plains Indian, facing forward in a saddle when my father could see me, but any other way as soon as he was out of sight. Remember Anne telling us about riding my pony bareback? Well, that was my first hunter. I could ride him facing backwards or hanging onto his side, with or without rein.'

'There you have it, Mrs Darcy. I learned to ride in the army, because an officer is supposed to sit on a horse to be visible to his men. And when Mrs Drummond and I met at the theatre and fell head over heels in love, I felt I had to continue the family tradition and learn to properly ride and hunt. But I think there is a market for cooler hunters, for me, for your father and maybe even for your husband, once he has a few children underfoot, or reaches a certain age.'

Fitzwilliam smiles at the image of himself with children, he's probably planning his first son's first pony already, and observes, 'I suppose it has to do with being in control, colonel. I only ride a horse that I will trust even if I should momentarily lose control over it, and I am certain I can judge a horse to know that after riding it once or twice. I suppose you want to be in total control all the time, and you just can't be on a hunter. I guess the solution is indeed to breed a different kind of hunter, it would offer ladies the opportunity to pick up the sport as well.'

Mrs Drummond is tired of talking about horses, she has probably heard it all day. To change the subject she asks Elizabeth, at the first convenient pause in the flow of the conversation, 'Do you play an instrument, Mrs Darcy?'

And Elizabeth, now certain she practises enough to satisfy even Eric, replies truthfully, 'I do, Mrs Drummond, and a lot better lately than I used to. I used to be too lazy to practise, but Mr Fielding, our protégé, has been teaching me, and he may be even more determined as a teacher than as a concert pianist. I dare say I'm a gifted amateur by now.'

'Then may I ask you to play for us after dinner? We all enjoy music so, but none of us are truly proficient.'

'Certainly. It'll be nice to show off my new skills for the first time, at home no-one is impressed, with two professionals playing all day, every day.'

Darcy is very pleased with the prospect of hearing Elizabeth play. He is also very interested to see the actress, Mrs Kemble, the object of a lot of admiration and attention from the much younger officers, practically all the time they have been in this company. Mr Kemble does not look disturbed by this, he mostly seems very proud of his wife, and spends a lot of time amusing himself with others, talking, joking, he is very lively and it seems real. Of course he is an actor, and a really good one, he could be fuming inside, but somehow Darcy doesn't think he is.

After dinner, when the ladies have retreated and the men are enjoying a truly excellent brandy, Mr Kemble approaches Darcy and observes dryly, 'I've seen you keeping an eye on my wife and her entourage quite frequently, Mr Darcy. And you have a very pretty lady yourself that you let leave very reluctantly just now. I suppose you are wondering how I can bear to have my Elizabeth the centre of attention?'

Darcy is astounded, is he that transparent?

'You're not projecting jealousy, my dear sir. Shall we say I'm an expert on human nature, having studied it out of professional interest? There are certain types of men and women, and you're one and your lady is another. Like Mrs Kemble and myself. She is outgoing, and likes to talk to all kinds of people, make new acquaintances, entertain a whole group. I save up my charisma for the stage, that is where I get my share of admiration and entertain the crowd. Then when I'm off stage, I'm back to my usual, reticent self. Though the difference is more marked in my wife and I, Mrs Kemble is an actress after all, and had a string of suitors before she decided to bequeath her hand on me whilst I guess your lady was a sheltered genteel girl before she bloomed under your guidance, it is still there. She is outgoing and will find friends everywhere. You prefer to have her to yourself. You must feel the sting of jealousy sometimes.'

Even more astonished to have this stranger assess him so easily he blurts out, 'Don't you? With half a dozen handsome young men hanging on her lips, praising her every word, sending her infatuated glances?'

Mr Kemble looks him straight in the eye, and says, 'I don't. I love it when she has a good time in public, and when we get home she is all mine again. She has chosen me over countless others, and she has never given me even the slightest reason to doubt her commitment to me. I admit acting is her job, but I'm certain your lady wife never has a string of six following her around.'

Stunned into frankness, and actually eager to hear more, Darcy replies, 'Never more than one at a time. And never this blatantly. One man I know is in love with her, but she treats him with nothing more than kind concern. One other I hate but cannot get free of because he is my brother-in-law. She doesn't even like him. I despise myself for feeling this way when I know she loves only me. I have no problem refraining from blaming her or trying to keep her secluded. That's not it. It merely makes me feel guilty towards her, and dependent on her. Out of control.'

The older man nods and admits, 'I've had that, too. I had a few bouts of jealousy at first, but we talked about it freely and I told her I didn't blame her, just myself for feeling that way. And she didn't blame me, just supported me. And after a while I stopped being jealous, those men are like an audience to her, she entertains them, then comes home to me. As will your little lady. Will you let me speak to her later?'

'She's planning to entertain all of us by playing the piano.'

'Even better. I'll admire her openly, and you can try to let it go. If the papers can be believed, your protégé is adulated by scores of young women, and quite some not so young ones. Does you sister have problems with that?'

'Frankly, her fiancée is suffering more. He stays behind the stage before his concerts, and only talks to his audience for half an hour afterwards, then wilts. My sister actually talks to his fans and they adore her, too. She says she knew this was going to happen and she never complains, though they have bought a special licence to get married a little sooner than we planned.'

And as soon as they enter the drawing-room together, Elizabeth joins them to give Darcy a barely decent kiss, then sits at the piano and starts to play. She was not lying, she has improved more than Darcy realised. She is playing a sonata, and she is doing it well! But sonata's are just for bragging, Elizabeth doesn't really like them, and she moves on to other kinds of music, folk-songs but also Italian songs and some Bach.

Even the officers notice her now, and Mrs Kemble joins the two of them with an indulgent smile. 'A moment of rest,' she whispers. It's obvious Mr Kemble has nothing to fear of those other men, she stands right next to her husband and wraps an arm around his waist. He kisses her as barely decently as Elizabeth did Darcy, and they listen to the music together.

Between two songs, Mrs Kemble observes, 'Did I hear your wife calling herself a gifted amateur just now, Mr Darcy? I'd say she is ready for the stage!'

That is funny, for he used to think that of Georgie before he heard Fielding play, and now Georgie has indeed reached that level, but Elizabeth never will. She has no ambition to improve herself more than this, and why should she? Practically no-one hears the difference anyway.

'I listen to two stage pianists practising all day, every day, Mrs Kemble. There is a marked difference, though I, too, had to hear it to believe it. If you could hear my sister or her fiancée play, you'd know instantly my wife is right.'

'I suppose playing the piano does rely more on technique than acting. A gifted amateur can capture the attention if she has a certain something that pleases the audience,' Mrs Kemble acknowledges.

'That won't work for a paying audience in music, though of course people love hearing music of this quality at a private party.'

Then Elizabeth starts to play again, and Darcy is perfectly satisfied admiring her from a distance, watching the young men vie for her attention and applaud and flatter her. Mr Kemble is right, it is possible to even enjoy this spectacle.

And when Elizabeth is done playing, Mr Kemble gives Darcy one significant look and joins the crowd around the piano, catching Elizabeth's eye instantly and gaining her undivided attention. So he has that actor's charisma indeed, he merely uses it sparingly. Still Darcy does not feel jealous, though Elizabeth is talking to the other man with interest. She does check the crowd briefly to find him, inconspicuously so as not to insult Mr Kemble. And not to check him for jealous behaviour, she is merely seeking eye contact to send him a look of love. After that there is nothing left to do but chat with Mrs Kemble, which passes the time quite pleasantly though he's not at all bewitched by her charms. Soon after that they decide to go back to their turret room, but not after having been urged by Mrs Kemble to visit their current show at the Theatre Royale. They set a date the next week, and are invited to join the couple for dinner before the show.


	97. Chapter 97

_Author's note_

 _An extra chapter to liven up the holiday season and to celebrate the new year. And to celebrate the return of Revelations to Amazon, in a revised second edition, re-written in the past tense and split in two parts to improve the reading experience. I've also removed several anachronisms like ladies' underwear, and some words and expressions that weren't used at that time. To prevent bad reviews I have reduced most of the adult material to a mere mentioning of acts of love. Sadly, but better sales mean more time to spend on writing._

 _The current story is drawing to a close with the entire party moving to Pemberley after Georgiana's wedding (I'm quite a few chapters ahead of you, writing), but there are so many loose ends I expect Revelations to keep me occupied for much of 2017._

Chapter 107

Just a few days after Fitzwilliam's tour of the army camp, Anne finds herself hard put to stick to her own resolve of not letting regrets over losing Nick spoil her memories of a perfect time with him. She has even avoided contact with the Blackwood girls, seeing Nick again hit her so hard when she had just reached a certain level of acceptance. She's quite happy if she just doesn't meet him, so she avoids temptation by avoiding the house and its inhabitants. She has stopped going to the concerts for the same reason, and though Frederick obviously thinks she is crazy, he hasn't tried to convince her of Nick's loving her anymore either. He merely comforts her when she needs it, and treats her like nothing is wrong when she doesn't.

But with everyone out on a Saturday night it's lonely in the big house, and she cannot help feeling a bit forlorn and inclined to recall their evening dancing together in every single little detail, from the look in Nick's brown eyes to the feeling of safety filling her when they were dancing intimately. And how he guarded his charges, taking full responsibility until Felicity practically forced him to let it go. Then their night together, how he loved her until she forgot everything in the world except him. Her eyes burn with unshed tears. Maybe going out with someone else will help. Lieutenant Talbot has sent her an invitation just this morning to have coffee Tuesday afternoon in a very fashionable place in town and she hasn't sent him a reply, yet. She is inclined to refuse, but frankly that won't help her. She has to consider a proper marriage with an eligible gentleman as seriously as an exciting union with a master-schemer. Even though sitting in a parlour all day doing needlework and amusing several children doesn't appeal to her at all. But maybe that is not what most gentlemen expect from their spouses, she thinks they do but what if she is mistaken?

Deciding then and there to send him a note tomorrow to accept his invitation, Anne feels much better. But she will not attend any more concerts, every semblance of peace of mind she can talk herself into will instantly disappear should she see Nick's face again, hear his voice, she'd want to touch his cheeks and his hair, and have him hold her close and give her those little loving kisses.

At first there is no-one to see her tears fall and to put an arm around her and tell her all will be well again. But of course Simon knows what direction her thoughts will take, he has been in love, too, a lot more hopelessly, for years. He knows what she will be suffering all by herself in a large house that is made warm and comfortable not by expensive furniture, but by the welcoming people inhabiting it. He knows he will find Anne in tears, and since he likes her a lot no matter what she decides in the matter of marrying Frederick, he breaks his own unspoken rule to not be familiar with his master's family and their friends anymore. Since his rise in rank and the start of his liaison with Frederick he deems it wiser to act the perfect servant within the drawing-room and any other room in the general part of the house. Private rooms are all right to be familiar in, the servants' quarters reasonably so, the drawing-room is off limits. But Anne's heartbreak cannot be ignored, and he sits beside her and takes her in his arms, letting her cry herself out against his much narrower chest, smelling of a gentleman's perfume.

'I don't know what to do, Simon,' she admits, voice still affected. 'Should I choose a life of freedom, risking to be left all by myself, or should I choose a man who will love only me, but at the risk of losing my freedom and being condemned to a life of perpetual boredom?'

Though of nearly the same age Simon has so much more experience with life, he cannot imagine Anne not thinking of the only true answer to that question. But she has been virtually asleep for ten years, and secluded at her mother's estate, so he will tell her what to do this once. She is learning so quickly, half a year from now she will think of these things herself, if she takes his advice right now. He snuggles her close, she has never had much love from others and he was raised with several sisters, he knows what girls need.

'You do not need to decide now, Anne. Take your time. Explore your options, and just decide for yourself how far you want to take the exploring. Don't hesitate to kiss a man who wants you to marry him, ask him what he expects of marriage. Explore, and don't force yourself to decide quickly. You have all the time in the world!'

Sunday is an early day, no time for lazing about, they need to pick up Lydia to go to the chapel at the army camp for morning service. Elizabeth makes sure she will not look out of place there, no matter what Lydia may think or say it is not respectful to go to church dressed up as if for a party. On their way out, Fanny sits in the carriage with them, dressed in her best since she and Bob will join the service as well, and she tells them about the night before.

'I do feel a little bad, ma'am, gossiping about other people on my way to church. I'm not the kind of person who can't not gossip, I can keep my own counsel pretty easily, but I must admit I do enjoy watching people's behaviour and telling you about it. You always have such keen observations, you and Mr Darcy.'

And Elizabeth likes Fanny's view on people and situations, she has real humour and a surprising insight in human nature for a girl her age who has had little education. Maybe it's Mrs Annesley's influence, she works with Fanny most of the day and she used to be a governess. But somehow Elizabeth thinks some people have a natural way with other people, and Fanny most certainly is one of them.

'We had been warned the servants would be formal at the Drummond estate, but we never expected what we found. Bob was talking to a stable boy who said the master had asked for him to help with the horses, and while I was waiting to be introduced to him and to have a look around the stables, an old man came along and shooed me off really nastily.

'No house staff in the stables, young lady, you should know better than coming here to make eyes at the stable boys, shame on you! Don't let me see you here again, or I'll notify Thompson and you'll be very sorry!'

For some reason I did not feel hurt by his crabbiness, I remained perfectly calm and said a bit arrogantly, 'I beg your pardon, mister, but I'm not from this household. I'm Mrs Darcy's personal maid, I've just arrived with the master and mistress.'

Well, that settled him, he made an excuse and had one of his boys show me the entrance to the house and hand me over to the house staff for keeping. But I didn't get to see the stables, I didn't even see Bob anymore all evening! They had separate common-rooms for house staff and stable personnel, and the stablemaster, for that is who that obnoxious old man was, didn't even know the maids living in the house.'

That is just incredible! They seem such friendly, normal people, the Drummonds. And something like this is going on behind the scenes?

'So this maid took me to their common-room, which was a snug enough place, and I asked whether I would see Bob at dinner, but they said the stablehands never came into the house. The gardeners did, strangely enough. They didn't know why, said it had always been like that and they didn't mind. Well, I certainly did! Dinner was fine, the atmosphere was fine, but I missed Bob. They did show me everything, kitchen, laundry room, storerooms, it was large and clean and as well-organised as Pemberley. They let me know when you ordered the carriage, and then Bob told me how his end of the evening had been, he had been chatting a lot with Smith, the stable boy. It seems the stablemaster started to separate his staff from the rest years ago, when he was promoted to his position. That was even before Mrs Drummond inherited the property from her father! Word among the stablehands is, a maid rejected him once for a valet when he was still very young. He has hated house staff ever since and never wanted to talk to another woman again. But maybe the boy was fooling Bob, I can't believe it, a whole household split up due to one man? Who according to Bob isn't even particularly good at his job? Apparently they had a fine common-room and a good dinner as well, but there were just men present, which struck Bob as weird. He was glad to go back,' Fanny concludes.

A peculiar story, maybe Fitzwilliam can give his friend the colonel a hint when they next meet.

'We'll be going there again tomorrow, Fanny, do you mind very much?' Fitzwilliam now asks. 'Bob is not really obliged to obey that old stablemaster, you know, he's my servant, not Colonel Drummond's. It's time the old fellow was replaced anyway, it's not as if that beautiful stallion wasn't suffering for his old-fashioned ideas, the saddle he still dared to use must have been as old as he is.'

'I think we'd both appreciate that, sir, maybe we could go out and have a stroll in their park together, Bob and I? We're engaged after all.'

'Consider it done, Fanny, I can imagine how it must feel, being all alone in a strange household.'

By now they have arrived at Lydia's place, she must have been waiting for them, before Bob has halted the team they can see her running towards them. And before Fitzwilliam can get out to hand her in she has opened the door herself and drops onto the seat opposite Elizabeth panting and laughing.

'I saw you coming for miles, our bedroom faces the road. Wickham wouldn't come, said to excuse him for once, but you know he never goes to church. Says he can't bear the hypocrisy of the good people there, whatever that means. Won't you stay, Fanny?'

Fanny, as a good servant girl, has gotten up to leave the master and mistress by themselves with their company. But Lydia seems to have a certain affinity with her and Elizabeth will use every advantage she can get to convince Lydia that losing a child happens to some people and is not her own fault.

'Maybe you should stay, Fanny,' Fitzwilliam observes. 'I suppose you have a lot of sensible, practical information that we lack.'

Looking only slightly surprised, Fanny sits back down and hears Lydia say enthusiastically, 'Abbey just loved talking with you, Fanny, I bet she expected you to have airs but of course you don't. And she knows dear Wickham saved you from that awful man at Jane's wedding.'

What can a poor maid do when thus addressed by her mistress' sister, than reply politely but briefly?

'I liked Abbey, too, ma'am, she's a very nice girl and she works very hard. And I'm still so grateful to Mr Wickham for saving me from a terrible fate.'

It is clear that Lydia finds the whole thing a great story to relate, since it presents her dear Wickham as a true hero, but for Fanny it's a real and frightful memory. And since they are not here to talk of dear Wickham's excellent qualities, Elizabeth changes the subject to their visit to the army chapel.

'Janet thought it would be best if you attend the service here, Lydia, since Mr Blaze has been on active duty himself, he knows what soldiers go through, and he knows how to support their families.'

Lydia now hangs her head and confesses, 'I know, Lizzy, but I didn't dare go by myself. Everyone knows who I am, they know I lost the baby, they'll know I am a terrible sinner. I preferred to go with Abbey and her mum, they are respected in their community and no-one asked about me. But I know I'll have to face judgement some day, if not in this life then in the next.'

Here Fanny dares say something.

'Mrs Wickham, many of my friends and my mother's friends have at one time lost a pregnancy or even a baby. That does not make them bad women, it just happens sometimes. Mrs Collins' baby was very healthy, but just like normal people, babies can also be sickly. My own mother lost two, one just after birth, and one still carrying, and she is the best and most religious woman ever.'

Somehow, Fanny has a very sincere quality and Lydia listens to her.

'But didn't she blame the Lord for taking her babies?'

'No ma'am, she did not. Our preacher explained that those who are especially loved are sometimes taken early. That has little to do with the parents, but more with the spirit of the child itself, it is more in tune with our Lord than other babies. You will have a healthy baby, yet, you can count on it. But I'm sure Mr Blaze can explain much better than I can, Mrs Wickham.'

Still, Lydia seems a lot calmer, somehow Fanny's explanation has worked, and because neither of the others has something to add, they spend the rest of the trip talking about how Lydia expects some of the things they ordered for her house to arrive tomorrow.

Once at the chapel, another wooden barracks but this one a single large space with benches, a simple pulpit and the usual trappings of a church, a lot of people do know Lydia, but this seems to make her feel welcome rather than oppressed. Even as total strangers, Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam are aware of the strong sense of community, a warm haven for someone like Lydia who is in need of some support. Bob and Fanny are equally welcome, they look very happy, walking hand in hand in their Sunday finery.

The service is impressive, Mr Blaze is a superb speaker for someone come to his calling so late in life. Of course his life's experiences have turned him towards the cloth, and they have also made him very eloquent on the subject of Christian values, mostly communal ones, something one might expect from a former soldier. Though something in his bearing tells Elizabeth this man is still a soldier, so upright and straight. Such a difference with her cousin, whom she has heard preach several times, and who on the pulpit displays the same patronising attitude she dislikes so intensely in his personal interactions with her. It's actually more than a little sad that his parishioners will never know preaching like this, humane, eloquent, and thought-stimulating.

After the service most of the churchgoers gather in little groups to chat a little before going home, Bob apparently already knows some men and takes Fanny along to be introduced. Fitzwilliam is approached by the captain they met yesterday at the dinner party, and Elizabeth takes Lydia to Mr Blaze. Despite his military bearing he looks very kind, and he greets Lydia by name.

'Mrs Wickham, I'm so glad you finally decided to attend service. Will you introduce me to your sister?'

Apparently Mr Blaze knows Lydia and the latest news about her. Janet must have told him and described the two of them. They shake hands with the kind clergyman, after which he suggests, 'I've heard from your friend that you may have a need to talk to me about some matters of religion. Would you care to follow me to a room where we have a little more privacy, as soon as I have taken leave of my flock?'

It takes another fifteen minutes for Mr Blaze to say his goodbyes to everyone who wants his personal attention, time Elizabeth spends being introduced to Lydia's other friends, Prissy, a young woman of Elizabeth's own age, and Irene, a matronly middle-aged lady. They are in the company of their husbands, both officers like Wickham, and Prissy has a baby on her arm, whereas Irene has two nearly grown-up daughters and a younger son. Janet also joins them with her husband and children.

Then Mr Blaze takes the two of them to a smaller room at the very back of the barracks, a warm tinted room with a comfortable fire, a small desk and a few seats arranged especially for intimate conversations. They are invited to sit down, and Mr Blaze looks at Lydia earnestly then says, 'I have heard what happened, of course, Mrs Wickham, and I'm very sorry to hear you suffered the dangers of the birth and the loss, when you were so looking forward to your little baby. I suppose I need not tell you that despite not having been baptised, your tiny little son will be waiting for you in Heaven when your own time has come?'

He is so kind and so understanding, why didn't Lydia see him before now? She has struggled with the loss of her baby for months, and in one sentence he has already given her so much comfort. Of course the clergyman's kind words cause Lydia to cry, and he puts a calming hand on her shoulder.

'Will you tell me what happened, Mrs Wickham? I have heard some things from your friends, but it's better if you tell me in your own words what you are so afraid of.'

And Lydia does, she tells him about eloping with Wickham and living in sin in London until Mr Darcy forced them to marry, though Lydia does not realise how much pressure Fitzwilliam brought to bear on Wickham, she thinks he merely offered the funds to make the marriage possible. She also hasn't a clue how much debt Wickham was in, how much money Fitzwilliam really sacrificed to get Wickham off the streets, so to speak. Then she tells Mr Blaze about having been reluctant all her life to go to church, and how she thinks this has cost her the baby she yearned for. He nods and encourages her to reveal even her innermost thoughts, her fear that she brought this on herself and her poor baby, and that it may happen again if she conceives before she has atoned for her sins.

'And Wickham still doesn't want to go to church, he says the Lord isn't much interested in the likes of him.'

And he wanted to be a clergyman!

But Mr Blaze is much more forgiving.

'I can understand your fear, Mrs Wickham, but it is not how the Lord guides us. I used to be like Lieutenant Wickham myself: a good man at heart, but bent towards earthly matters. Good to our men, righteous in principle, but easily misdirected by temptations. Misfortune is not a punishment, God sees the good in people as well as their sins, and does his best to lead them towards a better life, not smite them with his vengeance. He is forgiving and kind. Sometimes, those we love are taken away too early, and instead of turning away from Him in anger, or become bent with fear of His wrath, we should trust to Him to take care of those we miss in our lives. Your baby will be as happy with Him as he would have been here with you.'

'The midwife said he was deformed and better off dead. She also said it was a punishment for my sins.'

'The midwife was right in that a deformed child would probably not have survived long even if you had carried it to term. It is truly better off in the care of our Lord. But it was not your punishment, nor your husband's. Sometimes a woman is incapable of carrying a child to term, but usually such an unfortunate birth is followed by a happier occasion. Grieve for your lost baby, Mrs Wickham, and improve your life, give your husband the excellent example of going to church and trusting yourself to your Saviour. And in due time you will most likely have the baby you so crave, though of course you will never forget your little firstborn. I will talk to the midwife and set her theology straight, it is hard enough to lose a child without being made to feel responsible. You know you are welcome to join the service in our chapel here every Sunday, and if you feel the need to talk about this, or something else, you can come by any time you wish, I try to be available to my flock all the time, though of course I have some other duties as well. But then my aide will notify me and we can meet as soon as I am at liberty again.'

Lydia looks much relieved and almost adult as she replies, 'Thank you very much, Mr Blaze. I'm glad I came and I will certainly return. I'll try to get Wickham to come, too. He's not a bad man, you see, it's just that life hasn't been very good to him.'

Well, as long as Lydia believes that, someone does. Elizabeth thinks that Wickham's life became more difficult only when he started to veer off the path of righteousness, but who knows? She's not married to the man, Lydia is. Maybe he has told her things from the past that neither Elizabeth, nor Fitzwilliam know.

Georgiana generally finds church difficult. The thing inside her that drives her to improve her playing day in, day out finds it hard to sit still and do nothing for two full hours. She knows she needs to pay attention to religion to save her soul, but can't they do that by playing religious music? Isn't beautiful music as edifying as prayer? Didn't Mr Collins say so? He is a man of the cloth himself. The very thought almost makes her laugh in church, Eric would be abhorred. He doesn't seem to find it hard to sit still and concentrate on the minister, though his internal drive is as strong as Georgiana's.

But today, church is not a long wait keeping a solemn face until the minister has finished his preaching. For Frederick has taken to attending with them, escorting Anne as if the two of them are as engaged as Eric and herself are. Is Anne aware of this? Georgiana is certain Frederick is, he never does anything accidentally. But does Anne realise how people will become all weak-kneed at the very thought of Frederick Manners finally losing his heart to a woman, one with a really well-sounding name, but practically unknown in society until only a few weeks ago?

Looking at her cousin, Georgiana is pretty sure Anne is aware of the implications of allowing Frederick's attentions. She does not mind them, but does she seek them? She cannot be in love with him, she knows he will never get romantically attached to a woman. Or does she think she will be the one to 'cure' him? No, even Georgiana has had to adapt her opinion of Anne, though she has never even known her otherwise than half asleep and uncaring. Anne may be inexperienced, but she is not simple, and she is incredibly smart. She knows Frederick cannot be cured of his preference for men, she found out he was in love with Simon all by herself, by piecing together a few things Frederick told her and some gossip her maid repeated to her. Someone as perceptive as that knows where she stands. And that must be really close to Frederick, maybe even close enough to marry him for convenience, as he once hoped to do with Georgiana, when he still believed Eric and herself would not be allowed to get married because of his low birth.

Does that mean Anne is in love with someone beneath her? Or does it just mean she likes Frederick, and Simon too, well enough to go through life together? She certainly seems pretty close to Simon as well, they spend a lot of time together in either Simon's or Frederick's room. But why would she marry Frederick? To be free of her mother? She already is free of her mother, uncle Spencer has been very clear on that. Maybe she feels safe with a man around, but doesn't want to wait until she falls in love? Maybe she doesn't expect to fall in love again? She doesn't seem to be pining for Fitzwilliam, not like cousin Fitzwilliam is still moping after Elizabeth. Though Anne does seem to be moping after someone recently, and she has not come to any concerts for days now, even when her friends were there each day. They haven't been as keen to drool over Eric, they seemed to have a different escort, too. The broad fellow with the shiners, now fading rapidly, but no other liveried servants, instead they are accompanied by one or two gentlemen, officers if judged by their bearing and clothing.

He didn't look to happy either, the servant, probably because his charges are obviously seeing those officers. Another few months and he is out of a job. Maybe he was looking for a new position, he did seem to be looking for something. Well, a servant like that will soon find himself a new employer and new charges, those girls are obviously very safe with him about, and totally unable to make fools or nuisances out of themselves. Eric at least was very pleased to have their retainer keep those girls from getting too close to him. It'll be great to be at Pemberley as a family and have him to herself, married and all. Though Mr Clementi thinks they will need to move to Vienna, where romantic music is the thing, where Eric can learn a lot more if he manages to find one of the many composers in residence there prepared to teach him. Mr Clementi even predicted Eric could have his concerto played with an orchestra in Vienna.

'They'll just love it, I'm sure,' he said, 'it's new, it tells a story most people want to hear, you will have to work hard for fame with so much competition, but everybody in Vienna loves music, not just the rich.'

Then surely they will not adore their pianists so much, if they're used to visiting concerts? Then Eric will be one of many, and no longer subjected to all those hungry gazes? Well, first they'll finish this season, learning from Mr Clementi what they can while making money to pay him and invest in their future. And then they'll get married and take a break at Pemberley, learn German and also learn to ride, that'll give them something to do outside when the weather is fine, and it may come in handy when travelling. After that, they'll have to see, for now Georgiana's musings are cruelly disturbed.

Singing in church ought to be forbidden, at least for people who cannot sing. Fortunately Eric not only has a superb voice, it also carries quite well, so if she tries really hard she can listen to his singing and ignore the other people. That certainly is an advantage of Pemberley, a smaller church with fewer people. Maybe she'll ask Anne about Frederick later, if she dares.


	98. Chapter 98

Setting a nice pace towards the Drummond estate, Darcy feels quite content with their trip so far. They have accomplished their two goals already, getting Wickham promoted and settling Lydia's feelings somewhat. And they have had another lovely day all by themselves yesterday after church. Strolling along the beach, this time in the opposite direction, drinking coffee in a tiny fishing village, then strolling back along the escarpment, with a lovely view of the sea. Though spending a whole day in the company of Colonel Drummond is not Darcy's idea of time well-spent, at least Elizabeth will be there, and he will ride that magnificent stallion again. But first he will point out to their host that Fanny and Bob are an engaged couple and not under the stablemaster's or the butler's management, and that they should therefore be allowed to stroll through the public part of his park together.

'Why can't your servants be together in their spare time, Darcy? I don't think I understand the problem.'

That is a surprise. Don't they ever talk with their servants?

'Your stablemaster will not let any of his staff step into the house, ever. He barred Fanny from the stables, and he wouldn't let Bob go into the house. The other stablehands told Bob they had never seen it otherwise, so he didn't even try.'

'I know Kendrick is not that fond of his stablehands mingling with the house staff, and they do have their own common-room, but that's normal when one has a lot of staff, isn't it? They cannot all get along, can they? But the stablehands who don't have families to go home to need to go into the house to sleep, I can't imagine your driver not being allowed to go inside when our own staff have their rooms there.'

How can he not know about the little sleeping cubicles in the attic of the large, antique barn?

'It's true, Colonel, your stablehands are not allowed in the house, they dine in their own common-room and they sleep in the attic of the barn. Have done so since before you married Mrs Drummond.'

'They sleep in the barn and never go in the house? I can't believe it! But I promise you I will look into it. Maybe I have been remiss in checking up on our staff. I'll ask Penelope how that is possible, she must know since she runs the household. I handle the finances and the hunter breeding program, but I am at the camp very often and of course she handled her estate really well before I came along. But for now I'll let the stablemaster and the butler know your servants can go where they please, stables or house, or the public part of the park. Come, let me show you your horse, Mrs Darcy, I think you'll like her.'

Darcy is really glad to have Elizabeth ride a strange horse here, the experience will make it so much easier for her to try her own new hunter. If everything goes well riding this unknown horse that is, but Colonel Drummond generally prefers calm horses so she'll probably be just fine. They round a large, old-fashioned barn and find themselves on the stable grounds, where the expected four horses have been saddled, but two are carrying a lady's saddle instead of just the one for Elizabeth. Apparently Mrs Drummond is going to accompany them, which is probably good from a social point of view, but will most likely prevent the ride from becoming vaguely exciting. Darcy is not the only one surprised by her presence, Colonel Drummond is, too, and he does not hesitate to confront his lady with her decision, 'Penelope, you do realise we'll be going pretty fast, don't you?'

Mrs Drummond does not look like a frightened middle-aged lady at all, on the contrary, she looks ready for anything with her tall, slim figure and her practical riding-habit and sturdy boots.

'I grew up on a horse, Theo, I can hold my own any day, riding. I just don't like hunting, the noise, the bustle. I prefer a nice, quiet ride through the country, meeting wild creatures in the silence of the moors. We're leaving the huntsmaster behind, I'll be our guide, I've been riding these moors since I was a little girl. Mrs Darcy, I've had my favourite saddled for you, her name is Bernice, I admit that's a bit of a mouthful for a horse's name but you'll find it fits her perfectly. Don't hesitate to keep her alert from the start, she can be a bit of a dreamer if you let her and then she'll stumble on something a toddler would manage to clear. And don't worry if your Bucephalus needs a little run now and then, Mr Darcy, our mares will not let him decide for them, they will mind us instead.'

'May I take just one hound, Penelope?' Colonel Drummond asks his wife plaintively.

'Don't you trust me to keep us safe and bring us home, Theo?' she replies with a laugh.

'I don't know, it just feels like something is lacking without a dog along.'

'All right, take one then, it will flush pheasants before they can startle your prize stallion. Are we all ready to mount?'

Elizabeth is diverted by Mrs Drummond's taking over the proceedings, she likes their hostess and is pleased she will accompany them, that much is clear. Darcy makes sure he assists Elizabeth into her saddle, not that she needs his help but this is a horse she doesn't know and if Darcy doesn't help her, someone else might, and she may not like a strange servant getting involved. When she is settled he mounts his own horse while Smith holds its head and says softly, 'I've ridden him myself, sir, it was like a dream come true. Thank you so much for speaking up for me.'

'I'm sure you will be the best groom for this horse, Smith, it was my pleasure to help both of you.'

Then they are off to the moors, following Mrs Drummond, who sits her horse as well as Elizabeth does. Mrs Drummond might like hunting better if she were to ride astride, maybe they should mention those split skirts, she certainly has the figure to wear one and to ride a more spirited horse astride in a hunt. Maybe she'd even like to ride the stallion, he has settled a lot, a few days without the castle-like saddle have done wonders.

Their route is different today, Mrs Drummond seems to prefer tiny paths straight through the forest and across the fields, entering and exiting the wooded patches through narrow slits in the thick brush surrounding them. The scenery is among the most beautiful Darcy has ever seen in winter, but they are forced to ride in single file, and the stallion she so aptly called Bucephalus is not used to dragging his large body through swishing leaves, he is getting a little skittish. Maybe he imagines wolves and bears lurking between the trees, of course he has little actual experience with the world, he is still very young.

'Are you all right, Darcy? Your horse looks like a coiled spring, ready to bolt.'

Colonel Drummond is obviously glad he is not riding his nervous beauty. Still, Darcy is not worried, he has two placid mares before him and a cool gelding behind him, Bucephalus will adapt. And he does, but when they finally emerge from the brush onto a large rolling hill, Darcy wants to allow him a few moments to let it out, it will make his ride so much more comfortable to not be sitting on a vat of powder with the wick burning.

'Is it safe to let him go for a few heartbeats?' he asks the lady of the house.

'Sure, this field is very well-maintained, no holes or stumps. By all means, let him work out the kinks in his head, he is young and inexperienced and I suppose Theo always uses the road to get to the moors, no trees or brush in sight. I'm sorry if my detour inconvenienced you, Mr Darcy.'

'No problem, it was beautiful. But he wants to run now and I am ready to let him.'

In fact, they all gallop up that long hill, Darcy can't see the others for Bucephalus has taken a head start, but he can hear them behind him. When they reach the top he circles the horse to see where the others are, Mrs Drummond in the lead, followed by Elizabeth and the colonel neck in neck. Mrs Drummond waves him on, the hill does slope down nicely to an even larger field, and he lets the restless stallion gain speed once more until it feels like they are flying together. But the stallion is clearly young, for all too soon he gets winded and has to slow down, allowing the others to catch up, Mrs Drummond taking the lead once more. Soon they are back to narrow paths and brush on both sides, but Bucephalus no longer startles at every leaf that touches his flank, nor every noise he hears to the sides. He continues in a firm stride, following his stable mates contently.

'That settled him, he doesn't have a lot of stamina yet.'

Mrs Drummond turns to face him, easy on a side-saddle, and observes, 'We're almost on the moors, then he can see all around him once again. You're an excellent rider, Mr Darcy, I know Theo was a bit disappointed in Bucephalus' performance but I have seen a superb hunter in action just now. I believe he has been trained to take obstacles as well, I hope we'll get a chance to test him today.'

They must ride together rarely, the colonel and his wife, or he would have known she is a superb horsewoman herself. Most men don't realise what a handicap a side-saddle is, they think their ladies are anxious or incompetent when they are merely hindered by their lack of a stable seat and two legs to give the horse directions.

'Maybe you should ride him yourself, Mrs Drummond,' he decides to speak his thoughts, 'not on a side-saddle of course, but astride. Elizabeth can explain how to construct a special riding-skirt to make that possible. Seeing you ride I think you'd truly enjoy a spirited horse, but are hindered by your saddle. I haven't dared to try a side-saddle myself, no matter how brave I look riding this young hunter.'

Mrs Drummond looks behind her again, not at Darcy but at her husband, who is riding tail with Elizabeth between Darcy and him. He looks very thoughtful, then replies, his voice carrying as far as one expects an officer's.

'I confess I thought both, Penelope. Though I realise now your horses have grown older and more sedate, they were indeed much more like my stallion when they were young and I certainly never noticed you being afraid of them. And the saddle, it's a bit like forcing a squad of infantry to charge a position walking sideways, isn't it? Damned dangerous and more than a little unfair. I wonder you didn't think of riding astride long before we were married, you were such an independent spirit.'

'Kendrick is old now and ready for retirement, but back then I wouldn't have dared gainsay him. He would not have allowed me to ride indecently. He was a favourite of my father's, I just couldn't get rid of him after twenty-five years of faithful service, that would have been thankless.'

'But you could have shown him his place. As could I. As can we, still. He's long overdue a lesson in station and he'll see things changed before I allow him his retirement. I'll not have people say he ruled the roost until he retired. Let's have another stablemaster and promote Kendrick to overseer of a revision of the stables, finding the stablehands rooms in the house, and a place in the common-room there. We'll have the common-room in the barn turned into more stalls, for my new line of hunters. I'm looking forward to riding together, Penelope, and if you dare ride Bucephalus, I'll try a side-saddle. This summer, on Bernice, in the paddock. My soldiers need me in one piece.'

Well, that is something Darcy would have loved to see, and to try himself. Bernice seems as steady as Daisy, and Peter would not have been around to laugh at him.

'Can you do that? Force the stablehands into the house?'

Mrs Drummond never knew differently of course. But the colonel does.

'Staff should know each other, Penelope, keeping them separated is ludicrous. Had I known it wasn't normal in genteel households I would have convinced you to put an end to it immediately. But I have been away too often on campaign, and at the camp. I never realised.'

Frankly, Mrs Drummond's tour of the moors is much better than the huntsmaster's. She seems to have an eye for quaint little paths and beautiful views, and she likes to set a stiff pace once there is some space to spread out. Trotting and cantering is very good for Bucephalus, he'll lose his excess energy but not his head. They even spot some wildlife in this part of the moor, and Mrs Drummond warns her husband, 'Don't even think about it! You're not going to murder all the wildlife here, there must be some place where the game is safe, to make more deer, and more quail, and more of everything else living here. It's my sanctuary, where the animals aren't scared off by beaters and packs of hounds. Your huntsmaster doesn't know it's here, and you will not tell him.'

'I wasn't planning to, I love it here!' he protests.

But Darcy knows better, a sportsman can't help himself, without such a promise he will try to find the spot and hunt there. Mrs Drummond knows, too.

'Promise me, Theo.'

Though still riding along, her husband bows before his wife's steadfastness and promises, 'I will not try to find this place to hunt here. It'll be a sanctuary.'

When they return, Darcy sees the old stablemaster coming towards them, he's in for a shock, but most likely not today. He takes his master's horse, which is of course useless since Colonel Drummond has seen action five times, he knows how to control a horse and dismount at the same time.

'I'm good, Kendrick,' he comments this time, 'you can take the horse when I'm done with him. And Kendrick?'

'Yes master?'

'The mistress and I would like a word with you, let's say tomorrow, we'll be busy today. We have an important task for you just before your retirement. We'll tell you all about it tomorrow, at ten, in my study. Thank you, Kendrick, that will be all.'

Darcy can see it isn't all for Kendrick, he was probably going to complain about Bob and Fanny crossing the sacred boundary between stables and house, but even the old stablemaster recognises a dismissal when it's this final. Smith takes the stallion's rein, but not before Darcy hands it to him. He is way too young to be stablemaster, he cannot yet be seventeen years of age, but still Darcy would hire him for his own horses any day.

'When you ride him, Smith, be aware he is not used to riding in closed woods, he gets skittish. Take someone else along on a steady horse.'

The boy looks abhorred and observes, 'The stablemaster will not let me out on this valuable horse all by myself, sir. I tried him in the paddock, as you did. And then Williams came along on the master's second favourite, a tall mare. He said a stallion would stay close to a mare to guard her. Williams is all right, though he is old. You know he's sweet on one of the maids, but the stablemaster won't let them see each other. But how is he going to find a girl when he's at work all day and sleeping in a hayloft at night? My father works in a stables but they even dine with the family regularly. I wish I'd stayed there, my dad said I'd regret living anywhere else but what did I know? I only thought of beautiful hunters and a rich house. My father is important to Mr Miller, he knows a lot of bloodlines and he can see if a horse is sound.'

'Does this Mr Miller breed hunters, too?'

Smith laughs and regretfully admits, 'If he did I would have stayed, he breeds sturdy horses for the army. Word is you're going there this afternoon, Mr Darcy. You'll meet my dad, his name is Patrick Smith.'

'Does Colonel Drummond know your father works for Mr Miller?'

'I don't think so, Mr Darcy, I never told anyone here. I wanted to gain respect for my abilities, not flaunt my dad's success. And every third person around here is named Smith. Looks like your lady wife and the master want you, I'm sorry to talk so much.'

'Never mind, Smith, I thought it was interesting. You're good with horses, do you also have your dad's talent to see whether a horse is sound and suitable for its purpose?'

'I think I do, sir, but not I'm not as good as my father, yet. And he tried to teach me the lines, but I wanted to work with beautiful horses, not those ugly nags Mr Miller raises. They're smart, though.'

'It has been a pleasure to talk with you, Smith, and thank you for helping Bob with my team.'

The boy's eyes sparkle, yes, thoroughbreds are even better than hunters.

'You really need some new dresses, Miss de Bourgh, they're starting to become too tight now you've gained so much weight. I could lay them out once but it'll show, and anyway, your new dresses look so much better on you, it would be a waste of time.'

Dora is right, Anne is starting to outgrow most of her wardrobe. She allowed Dora to throw out the blood-stained dress of the night Nick was beaten without trying to save it. It was ugly even when Anne got it, she just didn't care.

'I know, Dora, it's hard to imagine it's been just three weeks. Are you still happy here? No homesickness for Kent?'

'Oh no, Miss, I love the big city. If you get married and hire a real lady's attendant, I think I'll stay. Maybe Simon or Mrs Annesley can help me find a new place.'

Dear Dora, as if she is only good enough for a skinny country girl.

'If I get married, Dora, I'll keep you, and we'll move up in the world together.'

For of course Dora is thinking of Frederick, and marrying him would mean diving headlong into the fastest maelstrom of society. Doing such with a girl's maid would be foolishness, but Simon will be there to train her. To train them both.

'It will work out just fine, we'll learn together. You don't see me with one of those dragons my mother employs, do you? They'd boss me half to death once over. No-one is ever going to tell me what to do again, I've had more than a lifetime's worth of that.'

Now Dora shows she is no fool, 'But Miss, if you get married, your husband will expect you to obey him!'

Jaw set, Anne tells her the absolute truth, 'Then I will not marry him. I will be ruled by no man. Nor woman, especially not a personal attendant.'

'Well Miss, then I'd better improve my skills with laying out dresses, for I don't think Mr Manners will stand for his lady wife not obeying him. He is used to being in charge, I think. No rich husband for you, then.'

Dear Dora, daring to be cheeky! But doesn't she know Anne has plenty of money all her own?

'No need to slave over those horrible old dresses, Dora. I'm merely waiting for Mrs Darcy to return, to take me back to the shop where we bought my new ones. If you are right and I cannot marry Mr Manners for fear of being ruled by him, I'll have to have nice dresses to attract other suitors. You can consider those an investment which will pay itself back.'

She doesn't believe it, she's not naïve, Dora.

'I was joking, Dora. I think you are mistaken about Mr Manners, not in general for he is bossy, but I think he does not expect to obeyed, not by his wife. He'd want her to be his equal. But you seem to forget I have plenty of money myself. I need not marry, I can buy a place in London and live off the interest of what is left of my fortune when I've paid for the house, and go to the theatre every night. But for now I prefer to live here, I like it here.'

'Living all by yourself would give your lady mother fits, Miss.'

It most certainly would.

'True, Dora, but living with Mr Darcy and being friends with his wife is almost certain to give her worse ones, so that is what I'm planning to do for some time yet.'

Dora gives up.

'At least I don't have to save those dresses, and you are so beautiful in those new ones. Maybe you could go to that shop with Miss Angelina and Miss Sophie, I seem to remember Mr Manners accompanying you last time, he must know where it is.'

Of course! And Simon knows, too. She is not going to give away Elizabeth's secret to Sophie and Angelina, and she is certainly not going to torture herself by being around Nick again, but she can ask Simon and Frederick to take her there. In a cab, for she suspects some gossip reporter to be lurking about the house and they should not find out where Elizabeth's fashion really comes from until that secret is revealed to scruffy little Mr Goodfellow.

'You are right, Dora, I need new dresses now, I'll find that shop and go buy me some. Will you come along, to learn from Simon and the owner of the shop? You'll have to keep it a secret, people think Mrs Darcy buys her clothes in France and they will not reveal the truth until the end of the season.'

'She doesn't buy her clothes in France but in that little shop? Please let me come with you, Miss, I have to see that!'

So Dora is a bit naïve after all, believing those ludicrous rumours about Elizabeth. But of course she has never met the adored Mrs Darcy, she has no idea who Elizabeth really is. Well, she'll find out soon enough once they return from their journey, and as soon as they meet Dora will know the difference between a public figure and a real person.

'Of course you can come, but do not expect anything grand or you'll be disappointed.'

Dora clearly does not believe a word Anne says, but that, too, is something she'll have to see to believe.

At the Blackwood mansion a few officers are now common visitors, except the one Nick would like to see the most. Mr Blackwood may rejoice in Angelina's catch, Ensign Stockford, who is a second son but reputedly with a rather sickly elder brother. He is not exactly handsome but good enough for Angelina, who will most likely not age very well, since she does resemble her beefy father more than her slender mother. Though Mrs Blackwood is starting to spread a little, but if Nick himself would drink so much spirits he'd be rollable. Though most people cannot tell the twins apart, Nick can see clear differences, and he has some hope Sophie takes after her mother. Externally, that is, for of course Mr Blackwood has the more admirable character of the Blackwood couple.

No news of Colonel Compton, though, and that saddens Nick. He would be the perfect match for Sophie, a chance for her to settle with a man who deserves her and to forget mooning over her servant, it's starting to get embarrassing. She is watching Nick, and the door to the attic, he suspects she knows about his hideout and fears and yet tries to catch him at taking some lady upstairs. Not to rat him out, Nick does not believe Sophie capable of such duplicity, but to be sure. To know. Poor Sophie. Fortunately she need not worry, she will not have to watch him lead a giggly or slightly nervous friend of Mrs Blackwood's upstairs. Mrs Blackwood will soon find her group of friends thinning significantly, for most of them find little entertainment in her slurred conversation or her preference for liquid treats with her coffee. They look forward to sneaking away after their visit, 'accidentally' meeting Nick on the stairs and following him to his little slice of paradise.

But several have already been found wandering through the halls and the servants' quarters, told by the cook, Nick's steady advocate in the household since he failed to prevent his nearly being killed by the butler, that Nick isn't well and to come back some other time. It's kind of him to keep the ladies warm for Nick, and more importantly, to cover for him so no-one finds out, but Nick cannot seem to care very much.

He just wants to find his own cubicle and go back to bed, to dream about his nights, and yes, also his days, with Miss Anne. He is not a complete fool, he knows she is not for him, he knows he will have to get over her eventually and move on with his life. But not yet. First he is going to feel all the love and yes, all the heartbreak. This may be the only time in his life he is ever going to fall in love totally and truly, and he is going to suffer every minute of it, and savour the memory of course.

Finding Sophie in the same state does not help, he cannot even be sure whether she is moping for him or for her colonel. Maybe the poor girl doesn't even know herself. They still visit Mr Fielding's concerts but the heart has gone out of their adulation for him. Angelina has her Ensign Stockford, Maria and Leonora are seeing their own officers, and Sophie is mostly sticking to Nick's side. He still buys their tickets, but only because he hopes to catch a glimpse of Miss Anne.

But she hasn't been to a concert for days, and he is pretty sure she is by herself at Mr Darcy's house while he and his wife are out of town and the rest are at the concert. Nick hopes she isn't ill, or abducted after all, but Mr Manners doesn't look like a man robbed of his fiancée. He is not worried, or sad, merely slightly amused whenever he spots Nick in the crowd. No, Miss Anne is avoiding Nick, most likely angry at him for despoiling her so coolly. She will never know there was nothing cool about it, Nick's heart is still raging with a fever he has never felt before. But it will pass, as her passion and anger will pass, and Mr Manners will be the gainer. A philanderer himself he will not mind so much that his wife has slept with another before entering wedlock. And he will be good to her, though not as good as Nick hoped the colonel would be for Sophie.

'Are you sure you are totally recovered, Fowler?' Felicity asks. 'You're rather quiet, and a little bird told me you have not been engaging in your usual exercise.'

'I'm fine physically, Felicity. Just a bit worried about the future. With the girls seeing their officers, I may be out of a job soon.'

She laughs, and sits really close to him.

'My father has a business near the docks. He can always use a man handy with a slapjack. And then we'd no longer be colleagues...'

Felicity! Who would have thought it of the little maid? It sounds as if her father is a smuggler or some other kind of criminal, and she is proud of it! And after him, rather seriously apparently.

'Thank you for the offer, Felicity, I may yet have to take you up on it. But I'd sooner bed a colleague than the boss' daughter. Have you any idea what trouble that may bring a fellow?'

She really likes him, and in the way he used to like his women, casually, with no aim to claim him. Too bad he isn't interested anymore. Or maybe he should just do it, give her what she wants, maybe it would help him feel better. For a few moments. Except then he'll feel even less worthy of Miss Anne. She loves him, she must. A little voice in his head sometimes reminds him she has thirty thousand, enough for two people in love to live happily ever after. But without her family, and without her friends, they'd throw her off in disgrace. And what if he reverts to his usual behaviour? He has never felt like this about a woman, what if it lasts but for a month? Or a year? He is not worthy of her. Still he will not give Felicity what she wants, for if she does claim him, afterwards, he'll be in big trouble. And besides, he doesn't even want to, he can only think of one person lying next to him, stroking him with tenderness, not heat.

The memory of her gentle care when he was in such pain is so sweet, her innocent touch on his seasoned body, the way she comforted him while sating her own yearning to give someone love and receive some herself. The wonderment in her whole being when discovering this whole new world. She did not seem ashamed at all. Will he ever be touched that way again?

'Nick Fowler, you're hopeless! What happened to you? No, who did this to you! You must be in love, and not happily. I'm not going to speculate who took your heart but I think it's a mean trick. You've always been some kind of hero to me, just enjoying love, no mooning and no claiming. Now you've fallen, try to not rub it in so much. Save the love-sickness for when you're alone in your cold bed and at least pretend to be a sensible adult when we're around. Whoever it is, I'm jealous. To bring a man like you down.'

She is right, he should take his feelings somewhere private. Getting up slowly, he drags his feet towards his own little room, to the bed where she gave him her pureness, he has long since forgotten the pain and just remembers the ecstasy.

'I'm sorry, Nick!' Felicity calls out after him. 'Please don't leave like that, I was mean when I should try to cheer you up. Here, let me make up a little.'

She takes his shoulders and turns him around, then offers an embrace. Before he realises what he is doing she is holding him close, her hand leading his face towards her shoulder. It's good to be held, he needs it, he will not cry or confess but he will relish the sympathy of someone he considers a good friend. Felicity smells good and feels good, and she caresses him lightly. But there is no heat, not from her either, and he feels some of the hurt lessen.

'Oh you poor thing,' she murmurs soothingly, 'you've got it bad, haven't you? They say that those who fall late, fall hard.'

Nick doesn't say anything, he is very close to confessing what no-one must ever know. Felicity doesn't care, she's not thinking of him but of herself, and in a funny way.

'Damn it, Nick, I was looking forward to catching you in the end, and now I'm feeling all sisterly and concerned.'

To prove it, she gives him two hearty kisses on his cheeks and observes, 'I suppose it must be hopeless or you'd get her, you reprobate. If you need a little comfort you can come back. I won't pry, I'll be your sister and tell you everything will be all right. I'd tell you she isn't worth it but I guess she must be or you'd just have tumbled her and forgotten all about her. Now take heart, big brother, who knows how the world may yet turn. Get to work, and you'll forget her for a few moments.'

That is sound advice, he has his duties and they will keep him from dwelling on wishes that never had a chance of fulfilment.

Lunch is great, and well-deserved after such a long ride on an unknown horse using a saddle meant for someone a lot taller than Elizabeth. Bernice is a dear, though, and if Elizabeth dares to be very frank, a better horse than Daisy, a little more spirited and with lighter gaits. Maybe she has indeed outgrown poor Daisy, but that doesn't mean she will let Fitzwilliam sell her in exchange for a better horse, that would be so sad and ungrateful towards dear Daisy. After lunch they'll go to a stud-farm to look at some sturdy mares to match with the horse Fitzwilliam rode, apparently to offset that beast's nervous disposition. Fitzwilliam handled that skittish horse so well, she was so proud of him, riding such a beautiful creature with so little effort. But not everyone can ride like her beloved husband, most people would be afraid to have a horse like that, and it is a good plan to breed him to calmer mares. Maybe a little stronger, too, a lot of gentlemen are somewhat chubby, they can use a stronger horse that will not shy at anything.

Their visit to the farm will be interesting, but Elizabeth does wonder whether they shouldn't bring someone like Fitzwilliam's Mr Hugo, who knows horses like no-one else. Fitzwilliam has owned horses all his life, but as far as Elizabeth knows he has never raised them, or even trained his own. She just hopes they won't have to bear the company of the nasty old stablemaster, he disapproves of women in general and has been barely civil to herself and even to his mistress, Mrs Drummond. Elizabeth would not permit any servant to treat her like that, and she is glad that Mrs Drummond and the colonel finally seem to have caught on. Half the world's population are women and the old man should have been taught to deal with that a long, long time ago.

Of course the men talk of nothing but horses, and Mrs Drummond decides to give up on them and merely addresses Elizabeth on a subject she finds interesting.

'I paid a visit to our attics yesterday, Mrs Darcy, and they were a treasure trove of unimaginable proportions! My ancestors had a seafaring streak running through the family, I suppose that's why they settled so close to the coast. You won't believe what furniture, ornaments, fabrics and tapestries I've found. To think they were gathering dust up there for decades! I'm going to spend my afternoon, and many yet to come, on choosing the best pieces for several rooms I have already decorated.

And then I am going to imitate your sister and Miss Darcy only on a larger scale: I'm going to redecorate my saloon entirely and use it to receive my visitors. They will be stunned! Will you please convey your sisters my heartfelt thanks, and accept your share of the credit, since you thought to mention it to me?'

'That sounds really exciting, Mrs Drummond, can you describe a few pieces you found? And of course I'll tell Kitty and Georgiana all about it, they'll be thrilled to find someone as enthusiastic as they were. Most people thought they were crazy and didn't hesitate to tell them I'm afraid.'

Her hostess clearly expects the same treatment from her own connections, but she seems to care as little.

'I'd like to do better than that, Mrs Darcy. I hoped you might want to come with me to the attic some day this week and choose a real Persian rug for yourself and one for your sisters, to take home with you, as a thank you.'

'But Mrs Drummond, Persian rugs are priceless! You can't just give those away!'

A merry laugh from Mrs Drummond, and, 'Thanks to you I found a whole stack of them, literally a stack a yard and a half high, Mrs Darcy. I can easily spare you half a dozen, even if some in the stack will turn out to have been damaged by moths, but I think your husband will protest loading your beautiful little carriage with the extra weight. They're much heavier than they look, you see.'

'In that case I'll gladly accept your offer, Mrs Drummond. We did have some rugs in our attic, but they were not very spectacular, I suspect the Darcy ancestors have always been very unlikely to go on long voyages into the great unknown. And before I forget, my staff have also found some very unique pieces of jewellery in drawers and dusty boxes in rooms filled with old stuff. They made quite an impact in London when I started wearing them.'

'The French pieces! Priceless objects of superior workmanship, nigh on impossible to talk Parisian artisans out of, and barely affordable even for the likes of a Mr Darcy! You mean to tell me your maid found them in a drawer in some forgotten part of your house?'

Elizabeth nods, diverted by Mrs Drummond's flowery description of her ornaments, for the newspapers did use terms like those.

'Then you probably buy your dresses in a tiny little shop in some forgotten part of town where an as yet unsung genius designs and makes dresses even the French haven't discovered, yet.'

Mrs Drummond's air betrays she says this as a huge joke, she still thinks those dresses come from France, even if she has to believe the bit about the jewellery since Elizabeth's maid found the glass ones right in Mrs Drummond's backyard. Nonchalantly, Elizabeth remarks, 'It's in Cheapside actually. But you described the place perfectly.'

'You're not serious!'

'I am. We're going to make it public just before we move to Pemberley. The owner needs a little time to build up some stock to sell, and thinking I beggar my husband buying my dresses and my jewellery in France annoys his arrogant aunt, so we let the press and everyone else speculate until then. If you ever get to London, I'll show you. Most of it is ready-made, the clerks make a few adjustments on the spot.'

Shaking her head in disbelief Mrs Drummond cannot help laughing. 'That is a mighty joke, Mrs Darcy. We don't go to town that often, we have everything we need right here, but if we do decide to go next winter, we'll call on you.'

'We will be pleased with your company, I think you will like our housekeeper as well: she makes the most beautiful pieces of needlework I've ever seen. She's working on two showpieces right now, one for Pemberley, and one for our town house. Hopefully she will gain some customers when they are finished and on display, especially the one at Pemberley, since it's meant for the dining-room and that will be included in the tour of the house.'

'You have your estate open to the public?'

'It's how I met Fitzwilliam, well, how we reconnected, actually. It's a very romantic story, though it was mostly very embarrassing and puzzling back then.'

She tells Mrs Drummond about Miss Elizabeth Bennet en Mr Darcy, concluding with, 'So you see, I could never cancel those tours since one of them decided my life. I did get the dining-room included in it, it's very ostentatious and Fitzwilliam dislikes it for that, but I think it reflects the history of his family, and people will realise his ancestors spent all that money, he didn't. Except on the showpiece, that's our addition to an already opulent room.'

Since the men now want to leave, the ladies decide to meet again on Wednesday, a day before their departure.

'Thank you for lending me Bernice, Mrs Drummond, I really enjoyed riding her. I'll try to draw the riding skirt I use, I'm very certain you'll love riding astride. And if your stablemaster objects, show him whose ancestors built this great house.'

'I will, Mrs Darcy. I know a lot of our staff aren't very happy with the situation as it is, we'll remedy it soon. You're not taking Kendrick along today, are you Theo?'

'I was going to but I've changed my mind, he'll be a hindrance to my project, telling me your father wouldn't have approved and only a parvenu would come up with such a scheme, even though it's actually Darcy's and his birth is above all remonstrance. Besides, we can't put him on the box with Darcy's engaged servants. They'll murder him. Who are we promoting to stablemaster, Penelope?'

'Richards is second now, but he fawns on Kendrick. I'm afraid he won't do. I like Williams for the position. According to my maid he is the best man alive, though he doesn't have much to offer her in the shape of a home and an income. Let's change that.'

'So we'll take him along today?'

She nods. 'He knows horses. The boy does, too, but he is a bit young and inexperienced with anything besides horses. He needs to learn how to deal with people.'

Fitzwilliam has been following the conversation so far and observes, 'Do you know Smith's father is stablemaster for Mr Miller?'

'Patrick Smith is his father?' the colonel suddenly makes a connection. 'No wonder the boy is so cocksure. I thought he needed some relief of his attitude, I am an army man and discipline goes before responsibility. Had I known, I would have asked him nicely to show a little more respect. The son of Patrick Smith could never be a humble servant, that family is as independent as the Scots. They may even be Scots for all I know, this close to the border. Better take the boy along then, give him a chance to see his family. Do you mind sharing a space with one of them?'

This is directed at both of them, but mostly Elizabeth.

'No, not at all. He sounds like an interesting fellow, and you may want to talk with the older man, too, see whether he'll do as a stablemaster.'


	99. Chapter 99

They start out with Williams on the box with Fanny and Bob, no doubt watching the young driver's skills with the high-strung team enviously. He should see Bob navigating the narrow streets of London with the entire team. And the boy is in the carriage with them, a lot less awkward than a normal servant would be. His father may be a paid stablemaster, the son was not raised a servant but a free spirit. Elizabeth cannot imagine the father being pleased at his son's choice of a position, he must prefer his son to just hold a job like he does himself. The boy is a little excited, though, and he soon tells his companions why.

'I never thought I'd ever get to ride behind real thoroughbreds, I never even thought I'd ever get to see one for real. Bob let me groom one, it was all muscle. They're not actually very beautiful horses, are they? Merely very athletic and very fast. Your new stallion is much better looking, Colonel Drummond.'

Ah, to be young again and say everything that pops into one's mind, Elizabeth remembers how she shocked Miss Bingley and Lady Catherine with her own frankness, not knowing that meanwhile, someone was brought to his knees by her impertinence. And he still doesn't mind it one bit, he likes this kid and is not insulted at what might be seen as a slight towards his prize team.

'If Bob finds a suitable track of road you may sit beside him on the box as he lets them have their heads. If Colonel Drummond can handle another fast ride.'

The colonel grins and replies, 'I'd never live it down if I refused. I'll get used to it.'

Then Fitzwilliam continues, 'That's all set then, provided Bob says it's safe. And no, they are not beautiful, Smith, I agree with you on that. They're made for running, like Mr Miller's horses are made for warfare. You told me they weren't beautiful either, didn't you?'

'They're nags, ugly colours and square necks and angles everywhere. Big blocky heads, too.'

Colonel Drummond is not used to impertinent youths, of course he is a high-ranking army officer, he is used to young men who have been drilled into obedience by sergeants. He feels called upon to defend his trusted horse.

'My blocky-headed horse has saved my life countless times in the heat of battle. Surrounded by musket fire, blasting cannons, shrieking, dying horses, the smell of blood everywhere, he went where I asked him to go, with just one hand on the rein and a squeeze of my legs. Do you really think that a soldier cares what colour his horse is, Smith? Can you imagine what Bucephalus would have done under those circumstances?'

The image his master has painted right before his eyes makes a profound impression on young Smith, he is struck totally dumb. Elizabeth can see his thoughts racing, this old man with grey hair, who is a bit afraid of riding the new stallion and some of the more spirited mares, has really seen battle? With people shooting at him, and people dying?

'Were you wounded in action, sir?' is the first thought that apparently has come to his mind.

His attitude softens the colonel considerably. Maybe the older man doesn't realise what a different person he is at home, compared to the camp.

'I have been, repeatedly, yes. But my Blaze always managed to keep me seated and he has brought me back to base safely the last two years. He was wounded, too, but I never noticed until afterwards, he didn't even flinch. He is a brave horse, the best I've had so far, and I've lost quite a few, boy. To a stray bullet, or to someone targeting officers to weaken a regiment.'

'I never realised you were in actual battles, sir. And on a horse, with people fighting everywhere. How did he stand that?'

'It's what Mr Miller breeds them for, boy, and your father helps train them to withstand. Do you understand now why they don't care what colour a horse is?'

'Yes, sir, your stallion would have thrown you and ran off, he would be of no use at all, even if you got the best stablemaster to train him. But he is so beautiful!'

'Which is why we will try to capture his beauty and the smartness and solidity of Mr Miller's horses. It will be years of work, but then we'll have the best of both worlds. Are you in? Can you look at your father's charges for their unique traits? Beauty too, hunters need to be beautiful if we're to sell them all over the country. But they have to be strong, fast and level-headed first.'

'Mr Miller's horses won't run from a boar either, sir. Or a frenzied pack. I can see what you want to do.'

Now the boy's expression becomes sly.

'But your stablemaster will hate it. He will say hunters served the old master well enough and then he'll try to stop the changes. Not openly.'

'Are you suggesting he'd hurt the new horses on purpose?'

'He doesn't like your stallion. If he didn't know that saddle was a mismatch he's not worth his salt as a horseman, let alone a stablemaster. I can't prove it, but I think he meant you to take a fall and sell the horse in disgrace.'

Well, there is no comparison for bravery to this boy, bluntly stating such an accusation towards his direct superior without any proof. But then, he's sixteen, what does he know?

'As an army man I greatly disapprove of insubordination, Smith. It can bring down a whole regiment without any enemy involved. If you want to continue to work for me, you will have to learn to show some respect for your betters. Even if they make decisions you do not approve of. On the other hand, you were right about the saddle, and you may be right about Kendrick using it on purpose. He has had his way too often and too completely. Why don't we make the following arrangement: you show everyone the respect they are entitled to. Then when you see something amiss and the consequences may be severe, you talk to Williams. I suppose you trust him to do what is right?'

'I'm sorry sir, I suppose I am a bad servant, my dad has always taught me to think for myself. I will try to improve myself. And I do trust Williams, yes, he is honest and fair, and he truly knows horses. Hunters, not sturdy army-horses, but I think he will like your plan, he'll consider it a challenge.'

Elizabeth doesn't want this boy to become a true servant, obeying mindlessly. She wants him to stay just as he is, but she knows that will be difficult working for any master. Mr Hugo is worse than the old stablemaster here, except his honesty is beyond doubt. One might say Mr Hugo is a better servant than the stablemaster here, who thinks he knows better than his own master. But she did not like to hear Fitzwilliam's report on how Mr Hugo had punished Bruce ruthlessly all winter. Bruce almost seemed to have had his spirit broken when they saw him again at Pemberley. It would pain her to see this boy treated that way, though of course he has not bullied anyone, and according to Fitzwilliam he has an extraordinary skill with horses, maybe giving him more right to a mind of his own.

Meanwhile, the boy talks readily about the stud-farm where he grew up minding the horses, helping with their training, learning a lot under his father's guidance, and even more by observing everything going in a busy stables. Colonel Drummond is very impressed, he must feel a right fool to have thought this boy a mere stable scrubber. And she thinks she can see Fitzwilliam entertaining the same thoughts she was just now, this boy must not be forced to submit to someone less skilled, he must be supported to help him grow even more. If he doesn't give the boy his address to write to if he should fail to be happy with the colonel, Elizabeth will be very much surprised.

Mr Miller himself is not adverse to bowing and scraping at all, he receives his visitors eagerly, he probably thinks they have come to view horses for the army, but when he hears of their real reason for coming over he'll probably swoon at the very thought. A trained, tested army horse fetches quite a nice price, but selling some of his best breeding stock will most likely be a very profitable start of his new year. A mare doesn't need to be trained to be valuable as a breeder, and his older mares are probably already in foal with one of his own stallions. The colonel will be looking mostly for young mares who can be bred this spring, and maybe even a promising young stallion to service his hunter mares.

As a true horseman, Mr Miller cannot help checking out the thoroughbreds first. They take to him wonderfully, approaching him curiously and whuffing his offered hand and his coat. A very good sign, this man does not let others do the hard work, horses know him and like him. Soon, another man joins him, a medium-sized, slender man in his middle years, whose eyes light up as he spots the thoroughbreds, and again as he spots a sixteen-year-old boy with a snub nose.

'Daniel! My vagrant son arriving with the owner of the most coveted team in all of England. I must have done something right. C'mere, boy, give your father a hug!'

And only after hugging Daniel, a fitting name for a rascal like him, very thoroughly, does he shake hands with Fitzwilliam first, then the colonel, and then Williams, not overlooking Elizabeth, but saving her for the last.

'Mrs Darcy, you are even more ravishing than the papers say.'

'It's the fresh air, Mr Smith, I had the pleasure of riding Bernice on the moors this morning, she's from here, isn't she? Tall mare, bay with two white socks in front and a white blaze in the shape of a lightning bolt.'

With the last statement, he remembers.

'We have hundreds of horses moving through here, ma'am, but I remember that blaze. She was born here, one of our best, except she grew a shade too tall for her boning. Couldn't carry an adult man plus gear all day, you see, though she would have killed herself trying. Very fine horse, I'm glad you liked her, you must be used to the best.'

Having said that, he can no longer control himself, he must touch those thoroughbreds he has apparently heard about. Well, Fitzwilliam did drive around London a lot those last few days before they left for Newcastle, and Elizabeth suspects their house is under constant observation from reporters. This man also lets himself be felt and smelled by the inquisitive horses, and he strokes every single one of them, examining the muscle like his son apparently did. Then he rights himself and commands his son, 'Daniel, you show Mr Darcy's man the loose stables, or you can put them in the far paddocks, whatever he thinks is best. Give them whatever he says they need.'

It seems rude, commanding another man's servant, but Elizabeth thinks this man is very shrewd. He must know his son will be insubordinate wherever he goes, or maybe the boy's posture gave him away, and now the father proves to his current master that the boy can be obedient when handled the right way. And he shows his visitors he trusts Daniel to handle those valuable horses as they deserve to be. Daniel does not object or talk back, he merely helps Bob loosen the traces, Williams giving a hand as well. Very soon, Fitzwilliam's pride and joy are led off towards a place where they can eat and rest, Bob handling two, Daniel and Williams both a single horse.

'Now, Colonel Drummond,' Mr Miller says, 'I received your message saying you wanted to view my farm, but though we speculated quite a lot during dinner and again during breakfast, we couldn't for the life of us come up with a reason why you'd come out here yourself. So, what do you want us to show you?'

So much for the man's grovelling, he's back to business.

'Well, I'd like to see your best horses, to show my friend Darcy why we dare trust our lives to these noble creatures. And then we'd like to see any young mares you have for sale, preferably ready to be bred coming season. I'm thinking of buying up to three new mares, to bring some of your horses' superb qualities into my line of hunters. Their loyalty and their steadfastness mainly, preferably without losing too much in the way of speed and looks.'

Both Mr Miller and Mr Smith look thoughtful. They probably don't see why one would want a hunter in the first place. Mr Smith speaks first.

'For a hunter I suppose you could do with a little less endurance? I mean, no-one hunts all day, do they? Or with a heavy load, on bad foraging or rationed water?'

The colonel nods eagerly, this is what he hoped for, someone to think along with him. These men know their own horses best.

'We never carry a load, hunters are fed too well rather than too little, and though some huntsmen are overweight, those never last more than half a day in the saddle. You know hunters, don't you? They don't have to be of sturdier build than that, as long as they have some will to exert themselves. And because people buy hunters for their beauty as well as their usefulness, they should be of a clear colour, a pleasing build, and if at all possible, with a pretty head. But not at the cost of their disposition, I have plenty of gorgeous hunters in my stables, but they're too nervous and high-strung, I want them more solid and easy-going, without losing their fire.'

The men look at each other, then Mr Miller says, 'Let's start with the young mares, then I'll have one of my men saddle our finest stallions and they can demonstrate their abilities. Daniel too, if he still deigns to ride a nag.'

'I think he has a little more respect for your work by now, Mr Miller. I described a battle scene for him, and I think he pictured himself in my place, riding my new hunter stallion. Blaze saved my life more than once, and his predecessors gave their lives for me without hesitation. I like my hunters but I love my Blaze.'

Mr Smith laughs broadly and claps the colonel on the shoulder. There is no submission in him, none at all. Daniel is clearly his father's son.

'Then you've taught him a lesson I couldn't, Colonel, and I'm real thankful to you. Do you want your men present when we look at the mares?'

'Yes, please,' the colonel says, 'your son, too. I'm very interested in his opinion, he seems to know the difference between a beautiful horse and what he calls a nag in one glance, and since I think my customers judge their horses much the same way I'm keen to know what he thinks of each horse first of all. Just his honest opinion on its looks. Then we'll decide on the rest together.'

That is a very shrewd idea, and Mr Smith especially seems to be rather curious what his son will decide.

After a ten minute wait, they decide to go find the men themselves, and taking Fanny along as well they march towards the stables where the loose boxes are. But the horses aren't there, nor are the men. So it's to the paddocks, a lot of large heads greeting them as they walk past.

A whole row of stablehands is sitting on a broad fence right ahead of them, among which the three missing men. The thoroughbreds are enjoying their freedom, they have been rolling in the sand, and two are trotting along the fence, the other two scratching each other's itchy places. It's quite a sight, apparently those skinny brown horses are really something.

'Williams, Smith, get off that fence and come look at some horses with us.'

The colonel is an army man and his voice carries really well. Elizabeth wonders whether Colonel Fitzwilliam can holler like that. Probably, he must have started out in the lower ranks. Bob catches Fitzwilliam's eye, and with a look of regret decides to stay with his charges. Well, Fanny is here to make up for what he misses. They set off towards a different barn, this one with a large paddock at the back of it.

'We do not keep the young horses in separate stalls, they're in two large groups, fillies and colts. These are the fillies, all of two and three years ago, plus two adult mares to keep them in check.'

The barn has no stalls, it's just a large open space, well, they have plenty of that here. This time, they all follow the stablehands' example and sit on the fence, watching the horses. There are about twenty, in different sizes and different colours. Mr Smith hops down the fence with great agility, then closes a gate between inside and outside.

'Now, Daniel, sort them out, nags inside, possible candidates outside. And mind you keep soundness and speed in mind as well.'

They all sit back as much as possible on a wooden fence, while Daniel starts inside, leading two fillies out, keeping the remaining six inside. Two of them have a hideous colour, one a ram's nose, the rest seems fine to Elizabeth's layman's eye. Daniel checks the horses one by one, and quickly, feeling their body and legs, stepping up to them suddenly to see whether they shy away, lifting hooves, he's done this before, that is obvious. Then he steps back a few paces and watches the filly in question carefully, once he asks one of the curious stablehands to set one in motion for him, which the man does without challenge. Apparently, Daniel is respected here.

Elizabeth notices the mares following him with little guidance, they are either very easygoing or well-trained. Soon, fourteen fillies are inside and six remain, all good-looking and more or less the same height and build, and of a spotless colour. Now the colonel looks at Williams, who starts with the six outside, then moves inside, to bring one back out, then a second one. They are easily recognisable, for they are both grey. It seems Daniel doesn't like grey horses, but these are very handsome, dappled, with long tails and manes. Mr Smith faces his son, he is proud of him, that is obvious.

'Why did you leave the greys, Daniel?' he asks.

'You can't know what colour they are so they can give mud-coloured offspring. And they go through many ugly stages, making them difficult to sell. Besides, this one is skittish. She reacts to every little noise, not a lot, but when bred to Bucephalus it would get worse in her offspring.'

Without comment, Mr Smith takes that one back inside, and then he strokes the remaining grey, commenting, 'You ought to remember this filly, she was born inky black, she was one of your favourites. You called her Spectacles, because of the white rings around her eyes. She will not give a hideous colour to her offspring.'

'Spectacles? But I've been away for a mere six months! She was still black when I left! I thought you had her in foal or something. You'd sell her, Mr Miller?'

'I'd rather not, but she is perfect for breeding beautiful horses. And she'd be priced accordingly. You know we'd train and sell her anyway, Daniel.'

'Well, Spectacles was perfect, though I hate her turning grey all of a sudden. And what about the rest? Did we choose well?'

Mr Smith leads one black mare to the front.

'This one is headstrong. We'll train it out of her, but I'd not use her for breeding easygoing horses.'

He leads her back inside. And comes back with a gorgeous red bay with an arched neck and lovely rounded hindquarters.

'Why did you both keep her inside?'

Well, even Elizabeth can see that from this close: she has a blue eye. Williams dares voice it.

'She has a blind eye, sir.'

Mr Smith does not gainsay that, he merely stands beside the mare on the side of her blue eye and makes a tiny gesture. The horse immediately reacts and the stablemaster observes, 'Do you agree this proves she is not blind? A blue eye like this is a tiny blemish on an otherwise beautiful horse. You want her for breeding, and chances are she will never inherit it to a foal. And even if she does, someone will want it for its uniqueness. This mare is a bit too sensitive for use in the army, but I think she will be perfect for you.'

Then he picks out another mare, and brings her back inside. Mr Miller explains, 'That is our pick of the lot of them, she's staying with us. She'll save countless soldiers' lives by passing on her traits to her daughters and hopefully a son. We cannot sell her. That one, too.'

Another mare is taken back inside, five mares are now left outside for the colonel to choose from.

Then Mr Smith fetches a large whip and chases the mares into a fast walk, then a trot. Last of all, a gallop. They buck and kick and start chasing each other, and Elizabeth is glad she doesn't have to choose which ones to buy, for to her they all look beautiful. After a lot more talking and examining and discussing, they decide on two sorrel mares and the grey.

'I love the bay with the blue eye,' Fitzwilliam says, 'but I think it would be a mistake to risk getting too many unique colours. People can be very conservative, and you wouldn't want them to think of you as a breeder of curiosities, you want your hunters to be known for their soundness and their willingness.'

They all more or less agree, though of course Mr Miller and Mr Smith are more inclined to overlook the exterior of the horse if the other qualities are all right. Colonel Drummond and Mr Miller haggle like farmers about the price to be paid for each mare, and soon reach an understanding. It's clear Mr Miller is very happy with the day's proceedings, and just not because he makes a small fortune, Elizabeth thinks he's flattered the colonel plans to use his stock for such an ambitious project.

'Let's look at my three best stallions first, and then you can check out the young fry to see whether there is one you like for the future. I've only a few still-intact stallions over three years of age, but every breeder has a favourite he cannot bear to take out of breeding though he knows he should because he has plenty of horses already.'

In a large riding paddock, Mr Smith rides first a bay, then another bay, both solid horses who know a lot of impressive commands, as if Mr Smith is a knight and not a stablemaster, and his horse is not meant to merely carry him to and from the battlefield and give him a steady place from which to direct his men, but to fight along with him. They show kicks to the front and to the back, and rear up to their hind legs. Everyone present is impressed, except Daniel, who seems to be used to seeing his father ride these magnificent athletes. And then Mr Smith requests him to ride a midnight black horse for them, which he readily does. The black is the most beautiful one so far, he is very elegant and he has a beautiful head. His mane and tail are long and wavy, to Elizabeth he looks as if he has come straight out of a fairytale. His movements look more like dancing than walking or trotting, though he apparently doesn't know any of those kicks or other fancy manoeuvres.

Mr Miller explains.

'Colonel, meet our Cavort, the horse we should have had gelded and sold as a riding horse, but couldn't, not yet. Instead we decided to train him as far as we could, to promote our stud farm, and maybe use him on our sturdiest mares to make our horses a little more elegant without losing strength. But now you've told me about your plans, I have a proposition to make. I want in. I want to be part of your breeding program, I think there is a demand for cool hunters. I am prepared to let you have Cavort on loan, and I will throw in the bay mare with the blue eye, if you will loan me your stallion next breeding season. I'll let him cover my most elegant mares, and we can exchange foals to keep the best ones for breeding. I have more than enough young horses coming up to keep my trainers busy for a a few years, and Smith and I are ready to try our hand at a project that is less labour intensive and more lucrative. We both have some money to invest in new breeding material, hunters are the crown of English horse breeding.'

Silence follows, while the colonel considers their offer. That stallion is so beautiful, he is almost a hunter already.

'Daniel can train him further, sir, he knows nearly all I know. We were just starting on the battle moves when he snuck out and sent word a few days later he'd taken service with you. Cavort is very easy to ride despite his prancing and preening. You could probably use him as a hunter if you're not going too fast or jump too high. Of course he's too valuable to do that anyway.'

Well, after seeing such a magnificent stallion, checking out the young herd is of little use. Those young stallions cannot breed any mare this year, they're not even half-grown, and Cavort will be imprinted on their minds for weeks. So they go inside the house instead to drink tea, Daniel obeying his father's orders to take that time to see his mother at their own little cottage, but not before asking permission of his new master to do so.

'Of course you should greet your mother, Smith. That is why I took you along in the first place, I didn't know you were such a talent because you never told anyone. Take your time, if Mrs Drummond approves of what Mr Miller proposes you will become very busy.'

And that gives Mr Miller an answer as well, Colonel Drummond likes his business offer, but he wants to run it by his wife before accepting it.

After tea they return, Daniel on the box and Fanny and Williams inside the carriage, since they are going to set a record time returning. Williams proves himself the solid, knowledgeable fellow he appears to be, and Colonel Drummond offers him the position of stablemaster of a stables more resembling a normal household, with all the servants sharing the servants' part of the house and one general common-room.

Hardly believing his luck the man accepts, and promises to keep quiet until matters have been resolved with the men currently placed over him. Then they all hold onto their seats as Bob lets the thoroughbreds run for a few minutes, after which he keeps them in a really fast but controlled trot. As their companions leave the carriage, the colonel wisely refrains from asking them to dinner, he must be aware that Fitzwilliam is aching to have some time alone with his wife, and besides, their landlady is counting on her four guests, they could not have accepted anyway.

Sitting at the breakfast table with Frederick, Eric and Georgiana, Anne is a bit nervous about meeting Lieutenant Talbot today. What if he is a disappointment? How will she get rid of him? What if he is even nicer than she thinks? Take time, she hears Simon say. That's right, she can take all the time she likes.

Johnson enters with the mail, there is a letter for Georgiana from Darcy, and an invitation from Mr Clementi for Eric and Georgiana. It's a card, and Eric reads it straight away and comments, 'He wants us to have coffee this afternoon, then step by Mr Zumpe's showroom to try some instruments: he wants to buy himself a Zumpe! If he can't find one he likes, he plans to order one made to his own requirements! Can you believe that? Mr Clementi buying a Zumpe? It's the world upside down, he makes fabulous pianos himself, and they fit his style of playing much better. But he says romantic music is the new thing and he should at least be able to teach it properly. Incredible. Of course he can easily afford a Zumpe, he can just sell one of his own pianos and use the proceeds, they must cost about the same, if not a tad more.'

'My Clementi was a lot more expensive than my Buntebart, I know that much,' Georgiana observes, 'but I can't imagine a master like Mr Clementi being satisfied with the kind of piano one finds in a showroom. Won't it be rather awkward for you, Eric, to go back there? Isn't it too much to ask of you?'

'I think Mr Clementi wants me to try it for him, Georgiana, he wants to learn the romantic style, but he has been playing his own pianos for so long he'll have to practise before he can overcome his decades' long habit. If he hears me play it, he'll know instantly whether it's the right instrument to teach himself the romantic style. He may even ask me to teach him, which would be a great honour.'

'As well as save some tutoring fees,' Frederick reminds Eric of practical matters.

Meanwhile, Anne has also received an envelope, and quite an official one. There is a similar one still on the silver tray Johnson is carrying, and he offers, 'It's for your maid, Miss de Bourgh.'

He hands Frederick another letter, then bows and leaves, probably to deliver Dora her envelope. The seal explains why they would both get such a formal looking letter, it's from Mr Blackwood, it must have to do with his case against his former butler. Breaking the seal carefully, Anne removes two sheets of paper, an official document bidding her to be present at the courthouse tomorrow at three, to give testimony in the case of Blackwood against Wellesley. Anne reads it, then hands it to Frederick, who reads it carefully and states, 'I'll come with you, of course, I guess that's what Mr Blackwood begs of me in this letter. It bears his seal. What does the other bit say?'

Anne reads it, it's in Mr Blackwood's own handwriting, and it begs her to allow her maid to go the courthouse to give testimony, and to possibly be heard herself as well. Mr Blackwood excuses himself for not being able to send Nick Fowler over to protect them, since his trusted servant is the victim of the assault and therefore an important witness himself, and not allowed to talk to any of the other witnesses until the verdict has been spoken.

'But I've written to Mr Manners to ask him to accompany the two of you to keep you safe and calm should the procedure prove to be upsetting.'

Well, that shouldn't be a problem for Dora, she can just tell the jury and the judge what she has seen, but Anne cannot. She cannot tell anyone that Nick came into her bedroom, sorely hurt. And that she treated his wounds, then spent the rest of the night in his arms! She'll have to lie and hope Nick won't tell the exact truth.

'Don't worry, Anne, I'll make sure you'll be just fine.'

He must have seen her distress, but what can Frederick do to help? She'll either be committing perjury, or disgracing herself in front of witnesses.

'Giving testimony is nothing to worry about, Anne,' Frederick now insists, 'let's go to the confidence room and I'll tell you exactly how it works so you can prepare for it. I've read Mr Blackwood's note and he wants to see the man who molested his favourite servant punished for his cowardly deed. Apparently the poor fellow didn't even try to defend himself, which is truly heroic since I'm certain young Nick can handle nearly any man in a one-on-one fight.'

Nick. The very mention of his name has Anne close to tears. She has been avoiding him for days, and part of her is happy she will not see him at the courthouse. But part of her insists on continuing to ache for him, and she hopes desperately Mr Blackwood is doing the right thing prosecuting his attacker. Nick himself seemed to think that being sacked without references and losing any chance of finding another position in a well-to-do household was punishment enough for the former butler. A lawsuit may see him hanged or deported, and what will that bring Nick? He is not the one eager for retribution.

As Georgiana and Eric start on Darcy's letter, Frederick takes Anne's hand resolutely, and leads her to the little sitting-room where the inhabitants of this house share confidences. As soon as she is seated he pulls a chair towards her, seats himself and asks, 'Now tell me, Anne, what is it you fear?'

There is no shame in confessing to Frederick, he will not judge her, in fact he already knows most of it.

'I can't just tell them how Nick spent the night in my bed, after I washed his wounds and checked him for further damage, not neglecting any part of his body. I should have woken Felicity or Dora, not treated him myself!'

'Oh come on, Anne, you don't think a jury is going to ask Miss Anne de Bourgh which parts of Mr Fowler's body she has seen? They'll just assume you treated his face and left the rest alone, as a lady should. Everyone has seen his face black and blue, but how would they know his stomach and tackle were even worse?'

'Mr Blackwood had a doctor check him out and draw every wound on his body. He'll undoubtedly be a witness.'

Frederick nods, but not pensively, rather brightly.

'Then they won't need your testimony at all. Dora and the other girls will prove the butler did beat him up, the doctor will prove he was hurt badly, and whoever Mr Blackwood hired to catch the assailant will probably bear witness the fellow was unhurt. Anne, Nick loves you, he'll never give you away. Just tell them what you told the family, he'll have heard it from someone, and the way his face looked he can even pretend he doesn't remember, people who take enough hits on the head tend to forget things. No-one in the whole wide world will suspect you of having slept with Nick Fowler, really. I'm so proud of you, Anne, and I'm sure everything will work out in the end, not just the testimony.'

To stop herself from showing her feelings at this kind but probably untrue remark, she asks a question that also bothers her a little.

'Will they hang Wellesley, Frederick? I suppose Mr Blackwood can prove beyond all doubt he tried to kill Nick, that's a capital offence, isn't it?'

'It is, yes, but not everyone convicted of a capital offence is actually hanged, Anne. There are appeals possible, sometimes they are transported instead, I hear Australia is the thing nowadays. Or he could take service as a private. Why, do you feel sorry for him?'

'Not particularly, no, Dora said she was afraid he'd assault her, he is a mean fellow I think. But I asked Nick how he wanted to see him punished, and Nick almost fears Wellesley will be hanged. He'd feel as if he murdered him. I don't want him to be unhappy, you know. But if those girls hadn't come in when they did, Nick would most likely have been killed. I don't think a person capable of such rage should just walk the streets unpunished.'

'I guess there is little we can do about it, Anne. Let's just do our duty and hope he will get a fitting punishment. Do you want me to take you to your appointment with the lieutenant?'

'I thought I'd take a cab. Georgiana says it's really easy, I don't want to be a burden on you.'

And it would look strange, to have Frederick accompany her to a date. He should realise that.

'Of course I wouldn't go inside with you, Anne, I'm not stupid! Or you could have the carriage to yourself.'

'I kind of feel like taking a cab, Frederick. It's broad daylight, and I've never done it before.'

'Of course, Anne, I guess that's part of becoming independent. So are you less afraid of the courthouse tomorrow?'

'I am, but I'm sure Dora will be terrified. Will you talk to her as well?'

'I will, this afternoon, when you're drinking coffee with Lieutenant Talbot. Will you come to the concert with me tonight, Anne?'

Whatever is he thinking? He should be glad she stays behind to entertain Simon. If she can keep from crying, or she'll be bad company.

'Please don't, Frederick, you know why I can't come. It's hard enough knowing he's going through a whole trial on his behalf when he doesn't even want it, and there is nothing I can do to support him.'

'You can come to the concert, he'll be very glad to see you.'

'How do you know, Frederick? Most likely he's already seeing someone else. I can't face him, I miss him so much, it's so humiliating to fall in love with someone who doesn't want you to. Again. I'll get over it, just not yet.'

Frederick shakes his head, he thinks he knows better, but he doesn't.


	100. Chapter 100

Chapter 110

Taking a cab feels very good, very courageous. It's easy enough to hail one, and to get in by herself, well, that's no problem anymore either, Anne is really strong these days. The driver's box is placed behind and above the passengers' seat, which is open to the front, making it really easy to get in and out of the cab. She tells the driver the name of the place where she wants to go, again, no different from her own little phaeton with Mrs Jenkinson driving. Why didn't she drive those ponies herself? It just never occurred to her. Besides, they were not exactly fast or anything, not like Darcy's thoroughbreds, not even like the single horse pulling this cab, a large white elderly horse, still handsome and with a long stride.

Before long the driver halts in front of a modern building and she hands him the fare he mentions plus a nice tip. He promptly jumps off the high box and offers to hand her out. She must ask Georgiana how much a normal tip is, she doesn't want to stand out after all. Since she does not want to seem arrogant she lets the driver help this time.

Lieutenant Talbot is already waiting for her, he looks more handsome than ever in a civilian coat with his hair done by someone who knows what he's doing.

'Miss de Bourgh, you came.'

He takes her hand and kisses it with elegance and, yes, feeling. He cannot be in love with her, can he? They've met just once before, he must have seen her dance with Frederick and heard the rumours.

'Of course, Lieutenant Talbot, I sent word I would, didn't you get my message?'

'I did, Miss, but I was afraid you wouldn't come. I just couldn't believe you'd come. Some part of me just couldn't believe a beautiful goddess like yourself could ever drink coffee with an ordinary fellow like me.'

Is he serious or is this just his way to flatter the girls he goes out with? What can she say? Anne can't think of anything, fortunately the lieutenant gets a hold of himself and shows her into a lovely modern cafe, to a seat he has apparently reserved for the two of them. They order coffee, and looking around at what other people are having she decides to go for a savoury treat, she's still not entirely comfortable eating sweets, not if her companion might be hurt if she doesn't like it. He is so cute and so shy all of a sudden, he wasn't like this at the camp, was he? He's staring at her as if he's drinking in the sight of her, expecting her to fly off any moment now. Still he manages to speak.

'I hoped to see you again at one of Mr Fielding's concerts, Miss, my friend Ensign Stockwood is seeing Miss Angelina Blackwood, and she told him you always attended the concerts because Mr Fielding is your cousin's fiancée. So I joined them one evening in the hopes of getting a glimpse of you, but you weren't there. I was disappointed.'

So was Anne, but she can't tell him why she hadn't been there.

'I'm sorry you came to see me and I wasn't there. I hope you enjoyed the concert anyway?'

'Oh I did, I did. It was very beautiful, Mr Fielding is very talented. And he and your cousin are such a lovely couple, I bet they cannot wait to be married.'

'Indeed, they cannot. They have so much in common, they practise together all day.'

'What do you expect from life, Miss de Bourgh?' the lieutenant asks lightly.

She replies frankly, 'I don't really know yet, Lieutenant Talbot, I've been ill for so long, I haven't really thought of it. I'm merely trying to have a little fun, like most of you did a few years ago.'

He nods and says, heartfelt, 'I can't imagine what it must be like to be ill for so long. I would be honoured to help you have a good time, Miss, maybe go to a theatre sometimes, or walk through a park. It's such a privilege to be allowed to look at you, Miss de Bourgh, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.'

It's getting rather embarrassing now, Anne knows she looks rather nice, but she still remembers the skinny pale woman in the mirror. She's not thát beautiful, is she?

'I'm sorry, Miss de Bourgh, you're displeased with me, have I offended you in some way?'

Where did the self-assured lieutenant with the easy manners and the badly shooting recruits go? Who replaced him with this adulating teenager? Frankness will have to do, if he cannot handle the truth Anne is out of patience with him.

'It's rather awkward to be praised so excessively, Lieutenant Talbot, I'm not used to such attentions, they make me want to find a place to hide. I liked your easy familiarity at the camp much better.'

'I'm sorry, Miss de Bourgh. I thought young ladies liked to be flattered, but though I can't stop admiring you, I can do it in silence if you prefer that.'

Oh, yes, that is much better, this is more like the real man. He smiles and looks just ravishing.

'I'm not that young anymore, Lieutenant, I'm your own age. And I'd appreciate it if you'd just be yourself.'

'Will you call me Ronald then, Miss de Bourgh?' he says impulsively, 'I'd prefer not to be a lieutenant to you.'

That is going a bit fast, but he is very charming when he is acting normal, and very handsome.

'I will, if you'll call me Anne.'

'Anne. That name always reminds me of royalty, somehow. Sorry, Anne, I promised not to flatter you excessively. Can you forgive me?'

She smiles at him and merely nods, it's very obvious he is smitten for her smile has a devastating effect on him. He manages to suppress it, though, an effort she values greatly, and he picks up their conversation effortlessly and very directly.

'Suppose you start to tire of having fun, do you want to get married and have children?'

Well, she did want to know what he thinks about marriage and it's a great opportunity to let him know she will not be someone's drawing-room ornament.

'I hoped to get married someday, but I've always thought I could never have children, I was so sickly I couldn't imagine ever being able to care for them. I just sat there all day, too tired to eat, too tired even to read or do needlework. I've had a sorry life so far, Ronald, if there is one thing I'm not ever going to do again, it's sit at home all by myself and do nothing. I want to explore the world, travel, maybe learn to ride a horse. Some girls may want to marry a rich man and sit in an expensively-furnished saloon all day, netting purses, drawing or pressing flowers, dreaming of babies, but I'm not one of them. I want to live.'

He nods in understanding but nonetheless replies frankly, 'I do want children, very much so. But I am planning to be a really good father, not a man they hardly see because he is out all day. And I can imagine you wouldn't want to sit inside all day, I've never liked that myself, which is why I chose the army as my profession. They say your cousin Mr Darcy rides out with his wife every day, even in London. I can imagine doing that, I'm not as fond of hunting as some gentlemen are. I prefer not to shoot in my spare time, which you can probably imagine.'

Is he telling her he would not expect her to sit inside and embroider if they were to get married? That he wouldn't leave her with the children? That is cute, but it's so serious! Anne doesn't want to think of marrying this man, she wants to get to know him better. So she asks him questions, about his youth, about his time in the army, and he asks her questions. After an hour, they feel as if they know each other much better, and everything she has learned makes her like the lieutenant more. She can really imagine meeting him more often. Simon's advice is very sensible, to not jump into anything but take a little time to make decisions. She'd like to kiss this man, but of course he would never do such an improper thing, which is kind of disappointing. As she considers what uncle Spencer said about adults and need for love, he catches her eye and asks, 'May I walk you home, Anne? Or do you prefer to take a cab back?'

So he does understand her a little better than she thought at first.

'I'd love to walk, I need to exercise a lot on doctor's orders. But I have to admit I do not know the way, I'd get lost after the first block.'

'Then I have my own admission to make. I do know the way, I explored in the hopes you'd let me walk you home. Angelina told me you liked to walk so I came prepared. Don't you have a chaperone?'

'I don't. I'm an adult, independent woman, and I'm not going to let anyone tell me what to do ever again. Does that shock you?'

'I don't think so, no. We're more or less the same age and you don't see me with a minder. But Angelina and Sophie have one, and my friend tells me he keeps a very close eye on those girls. No sneaking kisses for them, even though it's kind of uncommon to have a male chaperone.'

'I know him, he's like a very strict older brother. But I don't have a brother, nor a father to set me up with a young male attendant. My mother disapproves, no doubt, but she lost her right to rule me when she proved undeserving of my obedience, and now I am truly independent. If that upsets you, I'll take a cab.'

Poor Ronald, he didn't mean it that way at all!

'No, no, please, Anne. I like your spirit, it's what attracted me to you in the first place. Your cousin didn't set me up with you like he did the rest. I was just invited to keep you company, he values my conversation, he wanted me to entertain you. He told me frankly that he expected you to make a much more advantageous match. Which may have influenced my behaviour once I started to like you so much I wanted to see you again. Because you are above me and I realise that very much. I do think you're as beautiful and as intelligent as a goddess, but your story is obviously that of a human being, so sad, and yet it's so heartening to see you have regained your health in spite of the odds. Will you let me walk you home? And may I invite you some other time? I don't mean to claim you or control you, I just like you and want to be with you.'

She likes him even better now, and Fitzwilliam too. He didn't presume to choose a partner for her, well he did, but just for one day, to entertain her, but no more. That is so gratifying. Her lieutenant does know the way to Darcy's house, and since Anne rambles through that neighbourhood almost on a daily basis to get her much-needed exercise she starts to recognise the houses from a few blocks away. And when they near a certain alley she decides on impulse to take Simon's advice and test this man a little more thoroughly than she really should. As they pass the alley she takes his hand and asks, 'Do you want to kiss me?'

Her question staggers him, but Anne is deadly serious. She is still striving to conquer shame, she is serious in not planning to let a man rule her. Marrying a man means she will be legally his property, and she cannot see herself letting go of her independence that way. Not to anyone. Except Frederick. But to marry him, she will have to find her love casually, and kissing Ronald Talbot will only put herself at risk, not him. He can kiss whomever he likes, no-one will blame him for it.

'I can see you're not joking. And I really, really want to kiss you, it may be my only chance. So yes, Anne, I will.'

They enter the alley hand in hand, the houses on opposite sides nearly touch overhead, making the place very gloomy even in broad daylight. Where the alley takes a sharp turn to the right, they step around the corner, embrace and kiss, carefully at first, but more daring as they find each other's style and taste pleasurable.

And it's a very nice kiss, warm and intimate, Anne likes this man a lot. But somehow he cannot make her forget Nick, he's much more acceptable as a partner, and more handsome, his kiss is perfectly fine, he's respectful and even loving, but he's just not right. He doesn't smell right, he doesn't feel right, and she'd have to marry him to be with him. He'd own her.

Lieutenant Talbot doesn't notice her doubts, he relishes having the woman he adores in his arms, resting his head on her shoulder once they have finished their kissing, reluctant to let her leave his arms but not restraining her. She lets him enjoy a few minutes of close contact, then looks up at him, lays her hand in his neck to pull his face towards her, then kisses him on his forehead. He catches on immediately.

'You're not going to fall in love with me, are you, Anne?'

She doesn't see any reason to deny him an answer.

'I don't think so, Ronald, I don't think a traditional marriage is for me. I've been through too much to risk getting caught again.'

Somehow, she even thinks he understands. They leave the alley and walk on, and in front of the house they embrace like friends.

'Thank you for giving me what I never dreamed I'd get, Anne,' he says. 'Somehow I knew you weren't for me.'

'And thank you for your understanding, Ronald.'

'I know I wouldn't make you happy. I guess I have a traditional view on marriage, though you've certainly made me think. Will you be in town much longer?'

'I think another few weeks, until Mr Darcy's family moves to Pemberley.'

'Will you allow me to invite you out again?'

'That would be very pleasant, Ronald, if you don't mind my seeing others.'

'I'll take whatever time I can get with you. And next winter, will you be back in town?'

'Most likely, yes. Though there is a chance I'll be abroad.'

'With Mr Manners. And your cousin and her husband. Vienna, most likely, then. Don't go to France, Anne, it's dangerous.'

'I won't, my French is atrocious. See you around, Ronald.'

'I certainly hope so, Anne, as long as you're free and I'm stationed in London, I will be asking you out once in a while.'

It's only when he is gone, and Johnson is taking her coat, that she realises he may very well be going to France himself, to fight.

While Anne is drinking coffee with Lieutenant Talbot, Nick is being heard in the presence of a judge and jury. His situation is extraordinary in that he is the victim, but not actually the prosecutor in this attempted-murder case. For that is what Mr Blackwood is trying to get Wellesley condemned for, attempted murder, a non-clergyable offence with only one possible punishment should he be convicted: hanging.

As if life isn't difficult enough for Nick at this moment, feeling miserable and lovesick by day, his nights spent in fevered dreams of being with Miss Anne, walking out with her to places he hasn't even seen, visiting the opera in Milan together, riding spirited horses on what his fantasy conjures up as Rosings, the estate she is heiress to. As if he'd ever dare ride a horse. And the loving, they kiss and stroke and make love passionately, her soft white skin under his loving hands, her beautiful face looking at him with tenderness, heat and devotion alternately. The delirious bliss of his dreams makes waking up and realising it was all just a fantasy, a cruel trick of his subconscious, even more painful than merely losing someone you love. Every night his own mind gives him happiness and hope, which is then brutally dashed as soon as he regains his senses.

And now he has to describe everything Wellesley ever did to him to people he doesn't know, when to him the butler has already had his rightful punishment: losing his position and the chance to ever gain a similar one, and a few days in jail awaiting trial. Nick doesn't want him hanged or even sent abroad, though he realises that if the four girls hadn't caught Wellesley in the act of savaging Nick, he would most likely have been brutally murdered.

Mr Blackwood's barrister is very persistent, he wants to see his master triumph.

'So, Mr Fowler, you say the defendant beat you at least once a day for how many weeks?'

Nick sighs and replies, trying to make it all sound a little less dramatic.

'He did not beat me, he cuffed me, and yes, he did that nearly every day, sometimes several times a day, for I guess about a month.'

'And did you give him a reason to beat you? Did you refuse to do your job, or did you do it badly?'

'No, sir, I don't think so. The master and the rest of the staff seemed pleased with my work, and Mr Wellesley never actually complained to me.'

'Do you have any idea why he beat you then? Is he a sadist, an animal in a man's shape?'

This is the point at which Wellesley's barrister would complain that the prosecution is leading the jury, but Wellesley isn't present and Nick has heard he doesn't even have someone to help him defend against the charges. It doesn't seem to be a fair trial at all, since Nick and Wellesley are both commoners the court is of a different level than it would be judging a gentleman's case. But with the prosecutor a gentleman with plenty of money to pay for the best barrister, Mr Blackwood will most likely walk right over poor Wellesley.

'Will you answer my question, Mr Fowler? Are you all right? You seem rather affected.'

The barrister addresses the jury directly, 'Mr Fowler has been suffering some ill effects of the attempt on his life, I have several witnesses stating he hasn't been the same ever since. The numerous blows to the head that he has sustained seem to have lessened his strength.'

Damn him, the clever bastard. Taking advantage of Nick's love-sickness to make him seem feeble-minded and no longer suitable for his work. Better be a bit less distracted or he'll never find a new position when the mistresses get married. Nick makes sure to have his voice sound clear and articulated as he states, 'I am reasonably certain that Mr Wellesley hated me for being very popular with my charges, Miss Angelina Blackwood and Miss Sophie Blackwood, as well as being a favourite retainer to their father. Also, I seem to attract a lot of attention from ladies of every age and walk of life, from the maids to Mrs Blackwood's lady visitors. This may have built up some envy and anger in Mr Wellesley since it often resulted in preferential treatment for me, when he was in fact the highest-ranked servant in the house.'

A general laugh from the jury's side of the room proves they at least have caught onto Nick's hint that he often got proposals that the butler didn't. The barrister is not happy, he wanted Wellesley pictured as a ravening monster, not a mere man with a grudge. Still, he's a good one, and he saves the moment by asking an important question, preventing misconceptions of Nick misusing the power he had over his charges.

'Did your master's daughters also fall into the category of women expecting favours from you, Mr Fowler?'

'Oh, no, sir, they're just girls. They merely showed their appreciation by minding my instructions whenever we went out. You will find they were never alone with me, I have always been very careful to be like an older brother to them. But they wouldn't hear of going out without me, and they would have influenced their father to stand by me instead of the head of his household staff.'

'So you think he perceived you as a threat to his authority, even though you never challenged him directly?'

'Or indirectly, sir. I always minded his instructions and I never talked back or even tried to defend myself against his cuffs, though I am considered a strong man and a formidable fighter.'

'Let it be noted by everyone present that the defendant was proven to be without a single hurt upon his body, whereas according to an expert witness, a doctor unaffiliated with the family, Mr Fowler was beaten to within an inch of his life. Mr Fowler, you were very badly hurt, weren't you, with extensive bruising all over your body, numerous cuts, several broken ribs and a particularly vicious attack on your lower body. Does this to you prove your assailant's motive? Did he target you out of jealousy?'

'Only Mr Wellesley himself can enlighten you on his motives, sir. I would not presume to know them.'

'And if you are known as a competent fighter, Mr Fowler, why didn't you fight to save your life?'

'I merely expected my attacker to vent his anger on me, sir, as he had done numerous times before. I planned to take the resulting evidence of abuse on my body to the master to complain on behalf of the entire staff, it had come to my attention that several of the maids felt threatened as well. Beating up my attacker would have gotten me dismissed, leaving them exposed to their superior's lust for power. By the time I realised my attacker was not going to stop until I was permanently injured or dead, it was too late, I was too weak with the blows to my head and loss of blood to be able to defend myself.'

'And yet when you were saved by the entrance of the two Misses Blackwood and their maids, you did not ask for medical assistance.'

'I'm afraid I did not take my wounds seriously enough, nor did I think those genteel girls would be at all suited to attend to a lowly servant. No-one else was still awake, we had just returned from an evening concert.'

'Then when you woke up in pain later that night and roamed the halls of your master's house in search for help, a similarly genteel girl who was visiting her friends overnight came to your rescue. You didn't find her unsuited to attend to you, did you? For she did help you.'

'By then I was delirious and no longer aware who was helping me. Had I known it was her I would have begged her to wake the cook. I thought she was some angel come to fetch me to heaven, until I woke the next day in my own bed, alive, my whole body stiffened with pain but my wounds cleaned. Then I realised who had saved me.'

Nick doesn't understand, what is this man continuing to ask questions for? They're way past the assault, aren't they? Of what use is this? He's Mr Blackwood's barrister, not Wellesley's, isn't he?

'Was Miss de Bourgh one of the ladies expecting certain services from you, Mr Fowler?'

Well, though in a way this is true, Nick doesn't have to act his indignation.

'Miss de Bourgh was the young mistresses' visitor, sir, and as such my charge and inviolate. I resent your implications, I'm not being prosecuted here, it was I who was beaten half to death, remember?'

'Calm down, Mr Fowler, calm down. I apologise. I was merely trying to find a motive for the defendant's sudden rage, and several witnesses have stated she seemed to like you, asked you to accompany her on walks, to act as intermediary between herself and the cook. Please note that such a preferential treatment of a lower member of the staff by a lady of a renowned family can make a senior servant feel passed over.'

As Nick objects, 'As we discussed at the very start of this interview, Mr Wellesley cuffed me at least once a day before Miss de Bourgh was even introduced to the family,' he suddenly realises it is very possible her kind condescension towards him pushed Wellesley over the edge of reason. She even stood up for Nick once, and chewed Wellesley out right in front of Nick.

'Do you have anything to add, Mr Fowler?'

This barrister is very good, he can see Nick is in doubt.

'Yes, sir. I think you may be right after all. I'm certain Miss de Bourgh was kind to me because she is kind to everyone, and I saw it as my job to help her with anything I could since she was my mistresses' visitor. But we had never entertained a lady of such an exalted family before, and she regularly had a highly respectable gentleman visiting her on top of that. Mr Wellesley must have seen her as his charge, my voluntary services to her stacking insult upon injury in his eyes. I think you may be right that my interaction with her and Mr Manners may have escalated an already volatile situation. I hope you will be able to prove or disprove this with Mr Wellesley's statement, for I have indeed been wondering what drove him to do this, whether I did something to cause it. Thank you.'

'Thank you, Mr Fowler, for your clear and honest statement. As promised, you will not have to face your attacker, since you are not the prosecutor in this case but merely one of the main witnesses. I wish you all the best for your future, and I hope the remnants of your ordeal will soon heal. Does this witness have your permission to depart, gentlemen?'

A spokesperson of the jury now rises and declares, 'We want to thank you for your statement, Mr Fowler, and we want to join in Mr Proust's wish to see you returned to health soon. Please do not consider yourself at fault, no-one deserves to be beaten half to death. But few men have the courage to let themselves be marked to help their colleagues escape a dangerous situation. Good day, Mr Fowler.'

Nick bows deeply to both the jury and the judge, then shakes Mr Proust's offered hand and leaves the room with a sigh of relief. Tomorrow it's the girls' turn, and they will make their statements with Wellesley present. When he enters the hall of the courthouse, Mr Blackwood comes towards him and receives him with a hearty embrace.

'You did well, my son, I'm proud of you. But Proust was right, you do seem affected by all this, are you sure you are all right? You're not suffering from headaches or dizzy spells, are you? You seem so absent at times.'

He is such a kind man, Mr Blackwood. Spending so much money and going through such effort to seek justice for a mere servant. If only Nick could have loved Sophie, he could have been this man's son-in-law. But the very thought is repulsive, he could never have bedded his little sister. Not even before he lost his heart to the most beautiful woman in England.

'There you go again, Nick, you're miles away. I think you should see a doctor, you must have sustained some permanent damage to your brain. I'm so sorry this happened in my house, I feel so bad for you. I know it's very hard on you to relive everything, getting Wellesley convicted won't do you any good, but it needs to be done, people need to know they cannot just bully those below them.'

Nick wants to protest that he feels fine, of course he cannot mention being lovesick, he'll just deny anything is wrong. But before he can say anything, Mr Blackwood continues, 'And please don't worry, Nick, I won't take Sophie and Angelina from you, even if you never get well altogether you can stay with them until they are married, they mind you like they do no-one else. And when they do get married, I won't just let go of you, we'll find a place where you will be happy. You've done so much for us, have given everything, even your health. I will not forget that.'

This is going way too far! If he can't keep his mind from reminiscing and woolgathering, he must tell Mr Blackwood at least part of the truth, or his reputation will be ruined and he will never find a new job. For Nick expects to find another easy job like this without any trouble, Mr Blackwood will give him excellent references and there are girls to be kept safe everywhere. But not if they think he is damaged goods!

'Mr Blackwood, I'm fine, my ribs are still sore but there is nothing wrong with me, really. If I tell you why I've been a bit absent lately will you stop blaming it on trauma? I'll be fine again in a few weeks, this is not physical, I can handle my work, your girls will be as safe with me as ever.'

His master is watching him intently, as if he thinks Nick is lying to keep his reputation.

'I'm not hiding dizzy spells or loss of memory or concentration, sir, I'm a bit lost in love. I'm in love with a girl who doesn't love me, and that makes me feel low and worthless. I'll get over it, please don't tell everyone I'm damaged by getting beaten up, I'm not, I'll lose my reputation for being an alert guard. I need my reputation to find a new job once your girls get married, sir, please help me protect it.'

'You're in love? Without it being returned? You, Nick Fowler, ladies' man, philanderer, master seducer, in love? How can that be, my son? I thought you didn't want to marry my Sophie because you wouldn't be tied to one woman, and now you're in love? Do I know her? I suppose not, Agatha's friends are good for a tumble I guess, but nothing more, and anyway, they love you, more than they love their husbands.'

He knows? And he doesn't mind?

'Oh come on, Nick, I'm not blind, nor stupid. I know what is going on in my own house.'

If only he doesn't know about Miss Anne, then. Please let him not know.

'Staff talk, you know, Wellesley did complain about you every so often, of your giving this house a bad name with the philandering going on. And the cook, he is very proud of your prowess. Wait a second, is that why Agatha's friends are so upset? I had one at my desk just yesterday, crying. Said you broke her heart. I told her you'd been hurt and to come back in a month or so, but now I see. You want to be worthy of your sweetheart. Are you sure she doesn't love you? Everyone else does, Felicity, even Miss de Bourgh's maid. They said you told them you don't do that with colleague's.'

He knows, and he is proud of it? Proud to have a servant who tumbles anything with a skirt? Well, except his wife and daughters, and his female staff. It's almost as if he is disappointed to find Nick reformed, when he should be glad his soul is less in danger now.

'Is there anything I can do to help you win her, Nick? You know I love you like a son, if you'd been able to love Sophie I'd have made you my business partner, I can do that anyway. I suppose with my daughters both dating an officer there is not much chance of finding my successor there.'

Nick is stunned and cannot say anything at all for a whole minute. Why didn't his master ever say something? Now it's too late, too late for a partnership as well.

'Thank you so much for your kind offer, Mr Blackwood, I really appreciate it. But I'm not as good with figures as I am with ladies, I never went to school much, I'd be a hindrance to you instead of an asset, I'm afraid. And it wouldn't help, the girl I'm in love with is too good for me, I may be in love now but who says I'll stay that way? I've never felt this way before, what if she were to come to love me and I start philandering again? I love her too much to do that to her, it can never be. I think I'll get over it soon enough, and I'll mind your girls until they marry, then find myself another family with something precious to keep an eye on.'

'She doesn't even know you're in love with her?'

'She doesn't, and she never will. It's not meant to be, I'm not a man a girl should put her trust in. I'll try to hide it better, be more like myself.'

'Nick, you're making me sad. She may be in love with you already and you're ignoring her because you think you're no good? Look at you, you're young, strong and handsome. You're kind, and loving, and faithful. Who says you didn't just need to meet the right one? Why do you think you'll be back to your old habits? Please think about my offer, Nick, I wasn't planning to let you work with figures. I was planning to put you in sales, you're good with people, they trust you instantly, I think you can become my best salesman once you learn more about the goods I trade in.'

He's making it worse, though he means well. What if Nick never manages to forget Miss Anne, what if his love for her doesn't go away? Well, in that case a new job would be the perfect solution. Working hard learning a new trade, no time for regrets or vain wishes, no chance of meeting her by accident. Maybe he should consider it, no-one will be as lenient towards him as Mr Blackwood is, that is a certainty.

'Thank you for your kindness, Mr Blackwood. I will consider your offer since it may be what I need when your daughters marry, a change of scene, working days instead of evenings. Can we talk about it when either Miss Sophie or Miss Angelina has set a date for her wedding?'

'I'm glad about that, Nick, though I wish you'd give the girl a chance to have her say. Maybe she does love you. But it's your life, and I'm not your father or your mother. I'll keep my peace about your spells of absent-mindedness, and about your fall from philandering, and should you want to take that back up, don't mind us, just be as discrete as you always were. Are you certain you don't want to sit in tomorrow? See your tormentor get what he deserves? Never mind, I can see you don't. You must be a better man than I am, not to feel a need for retribution. If it makes you unhappy to have him hanged I'll see he gets pardoned, don't lie awake at night over Wellesley after what he did to you. But an example has to be set, Nick, so he will be judged. Lower-ranked staff have rights as well as butlers, though you will always be my favourite, no matter what happens.

Now, go home and take some rest, there's another concert tonight. Aren't the girls bored of them by now? Maybe you should plan some really spectacular outings, you know, before they settle. Then we'll invite Miss de Bourgh, I liked having her around, such a beautiful young woman. And I think very smart as well. It can't hurt to be friends with her amant either, Mr Manners knows everyone of any consequence. Though he may not appreciate her going to the places the girls like to visit. Well now, I'm waiting for Proust, you be off. See you soon, Nick.'

And Nick does as he is told, heading back to the Blackwood house on foot, eager to find a few moments by himself to contemplate everything that has happened.


	101. Chapter 101

Chapter 111

Eric has to admit to himself that he does feel quite apprehensive to seek out Mr Zumpe, and he knows he should just own up to Georgiana. She'll find out anyway, he can feel the tension in his whole body, it's not as if she's not going to notice. It's a good thing, though, to go there with Mr Clementi and choose a piano, no matter how uncomfortable it will be for him. And hopefully for Mr Zumpe! His main competitor, buying one of his instruments, and not the least one. It sounds as if Mr Clementi is planning to choose the best on offer. He is certainly taking his passion seriously, despite loving his own style and having taught many students how to excel in it, Mr Clementi wants to be able to play every style he comes across, to be able to teach it but also to broaden his own abilities. Eric cannot but admire such a goal, even if it's wildly different from his own single-minded pursuit of his ambitious dreams. Though meeting and falling in love with Georgiana has changed him more than a little, he has broadened his interests to composing and teaching as well, whereas he used to aim solely for a career on stage and worldwide fame.

'I'm certain Mr Zumpe will be very pleased to sell Mr Clementi a piano, Eric. You always told me he taught you to be nice to everybody because they were all potential customers. He will be especially nice to you, since you will be there to help him sell his most famous customer ever a very expensive instrument. Without you, Mr Clementi cannot choose. And who knows, maybe he isn't even in and you'll just meet his salesman. Who may be married to Miss Zumpe by now.'

Of course he didn't fool her, she knew all the time.

'Too bad he's already married. Mr Wilbur, the salesman. For he would be an excellent match for Louise. I'm anxious, but I'm kind of elated at the same time. It's a kind of redemption, to have Mr Clementi ask me along to demonstrate a piano for him because he wants to learn the music Mr Zumpe abhorred. If I were petty minded, I'd relish the moment of triumph. Maybe I'm just afraid to find myself petty minded enough to relish it after all.'

She hugs him and kisses him, careful not to excite him too much.

'You could never be petty, Eric. Just be as brave as ever and I'm sure things will work out for the best. I just hope Mr Zumpe has a really good instrument in stock, I suppose building one will take months.'

They are planning to take a cab rather than trust to Hugo's sense of direction, but Simon drops in and offers to guide the Pemberley stablemaster to the right address. 'I know London even better than Bob, and you don't want to offend Mr Hugo if you are going to learn how to ride this summer at Pemberley. And if you don't do it for yourselves, do it for me. I'm just a lowly valet, he can make life very easy for me if he likes me.'

It's a good idea even without Simon's outrageous acting, why keep horses if you don't use them? And Hugo needs to learn to navigate London anyway, who knows when he will be expected to drive there in the future.

Meeting up with Mr Clementi in a cafe right next to the showroom, Eric surprises himself by not feeling any regrets or remorse. How can he? He has everything he ever dreamed of and more, a comfortable home where he is free to play and compose the music he likes, the girl of his dreams, who is also his perfect companion to share everything he loves with, and now, the long-hoped-for teacher to help him reach the next level in playing and composing. What more can a man want from life? Still he feels some tension, but remembering how he was dismissed from Mr Zumpe's service and what happened afterwards he cannot fault himself for being a little on his guard when dealing with his former patron. The coffee doesn't taste as good as it should, and he doesn't even try to eat a slice of pie, it would taste like sawdust. Mr Clementi nods as he explains and observes, 'Let's get the difficult part over then, Mr Fielding, and do the chatting afterwards.'

And he gestures the waiter for the bill while they finish their coffee. As soon as Mr Clementi has paid they walk the few yards to the Zumpe showroom and enter. Their appearance has all the effect they might want, for when Mr Wilbur recognises who are walking into his showroom on a cold and wet February afternoon his eyes widen and his mouth falls open, until he realises he knows at least one of his guests intimately.

'Fielding! Is it really you? I can't believe my eyes!'

And he takes Eric's hand firmly, then reconsiders and pulls his former colleague into a bear hug.

'We've missed you, man, things haven't been the same since you left. Though we were all very glad to hear you are doing so well!'

'How have things been, Wilbur? Are the rest still here?'

'Yes, yes, we're doing fine, sales are fine, it's just that the heart went out of old Zumpe, I know he asked you to leave, but then he did all the suffering. And poor Louise, through no fault of yours, Fielding, we all know that. Sometimes these things just happen. I don't have to ask you how you are doing, we all read the newspaper. Though I can see they are a tiny bit behind on the news?'

He means Mr Clementi, no doubt. The papers have been writing about Georgiana since before New Year's Eve.

'May I introduce you to my fiancée, Miss Darcy, and Mr Clementi, who is teaching me, striving to take me to the next level of competence?'

Wilbur shakes hands, compliments Georgiana and then observes, 'Mr Clementi, it's such an honour to meet you. I guess this is not a social visit, Fielding? Apparently Mr Zumpe did not leave you much choice to stay on friendly terms with him. May I ask what brings the three of you here?'

Now Mr Clementi takes over, he has the famous Italian charm, even in the lion's den, though he has never seen Mr Zumpe as competition so much as Mr Zumpe did him.

'Mr Wilbur, I've invited Mr Fielding over to help me with an important decision. After hearing him play his magnificent compositions on his own instrument, I have decided it's time for me to master this new form of music, romantic music, for it stirs the heart like no other. But to do this I need a different instrument, you may have heard one of mine, they are better suited to a different style of playing and composing. To explore romantic music I want to buy the perfect tool, a piano-forte with the same capacity to relay feelings as Mr Fielding's Zumpe. So all in all, we are here as customers. With a very serious intent, one might say a determination, to buy. If you have an instrument that pleases all three of us, if not, I'll order one made exactly as I like.'

Poor Wilbur is overcome.

'You, Mr Clementi, the famous piano-builder, composer, pianist, want to buy a Zumpe piano-forte?'

'Yes, I do,' the man laughs.

Wilbur now looks at Eric and says seriously, 'Will you allow me to send for Mr Zumpe himself, Fielding? I can't keep him out of it, you have to understand.'

'I understand perfectly, Wilbur, I didn't expect anything less, and Mr Clementi has the right to meet the master-builder of an instrument he has such high expectations of. While we wait, may we try some of the instruments here?'

'Certainly, do you want me to show you the best ones we have here? There are some cheaper pianos too, you see.'

'Thank you, Wilbur, but I think we'll just check out all of them. Mr Clementi knows exactly what he wants.'

In fact the master-builder is already busy examining instruments in a way that would never have occurred to Eric since he is a pianist, not a maker of the best quality piano-fortes himself. Mr Clementi is apparently judging the quality of the workmanship and the wood, and Georgiana is watching his progress, listening to his explanations with interest. As Wilbur moves off to send for Mr Zumpe, Eric joins the others, and soon learns more about the fabrication of pianos than he ever imagined.

'This is the latest model, I think,' Mr Clementi observes, 'but if you look at the joints and the wood, it's been made to save on costs, it will be one of the cheaper instruments and thus not suitable for my use: it will be hard to tune perfectly, and I suppose it won't last for more than twenty years. I understand why Mr Zumpe has these made, and a lot of families cannot afford a piano otherwise, but I love my instruments in a very personal way, I want them to last forever, or as close to it as I can get. Which makes them much more expensive, but that cannot be helped, a Clementi is for the well-to-do.'

With a laugh he adds, 'Of course I'll make an exception for young talents, Mr Fielding, should you want to buy a Clementi I'll let you have one at a very decent price.'

Well, Eric certainly wants to own a Clementi some day, and he says so to his new friend and teacher. By now they have examined four pianos and found them wanting, but the fifth is more to Mr Clementi's liking.

'Will you demonstrate this one for me, Mr Fielding? It's of a different quality than those others, I guess that's the cheap corner, I expect the quality instruments from this point onwards.'

Eric sits down and plays a few scales first, then launches into one of his own works. After a few bars he stops, this is not the right instrument, though it's perfectly in tune and plays firmly, it lacks that mournful quality they are looking for.

'Plenty more to go,' Mr Clementi observes and moves to another model, again an excellent piano. By now, Wilbur is back, and he says, 'This is one I would recommend, one of the best pieces we've made in the last few years. It's been waiting for a buyer with the ability to separate the magnificent from the merely good.'

Eric plays and recognises its quality instantly, this is a fine instrument, and very well-suited to what Mr Clementi wants. Wilbur is speechless, he must have never heard Eric play his own work before, it's funny to see him look at someone he knows very well with entirely new eyes.

'I like this one, Mr Fielding,' Mr Clementi says, 'lets try the others and then get back to it. Please lead us to the two other instruments you say are superior, Mr Wilbur.'

It does save on time, but it's obvious Georgiana doesn't agree with Wilbur's judgement. She has been drifting through the showroom on her own since Eric started to play, and her eye has settled on a very plain instrument somewhere at the back. She's back with them to listen to Wilbur's favourites, but Eric knows she will have them try that rather squat piano as well.

They try the two Wilbur recommends, finding them very pleasing of tone, and then Mr Zumpe comes bursting into the showroom, not wearing his busby, cheeks overspread with a blush of exertion, he must have run over without taking time to dress for the cold. As Eric and Georgiana watch from behind the piano they see him greet Mr Clementi with the respect the piano-builder, pianist and composer deserves. They talk, mostly about pianos, until Mr Clementi points out his companions sitting at the keyboard of one of his prime products. Mr Zumpe is stunned.

'Eric? Is that really you?'

To see a man who used to be like a father to him for most of his life so affected can't but affect Eric in his turn. He gets up from the piano stool and embraces his former patron with all the love he used to feel for him. He'll most likely say something really offensive again soon, but Eric can't help it, being back here reminds him of the feeling of wealth he used to have tuning the instruments here. So many pianos, and he could play any one of them he liked. He has learned to live without Mr Zumpe, but in a way the man is still his father.

Mr Zumpe is much smaller than Eric, and has to look up at him.

'Eric, I never thought I'd see you again. You look well. Despite what you might think I'm happy you found what you always wanted.'

He looks sad, and Eric feels a bit guilty, though he knows he was not to blame for what happened. But this is not the Mr Zumpe he remembers, this man is older, tired, things have indeed changed.

'Is Louise all right? And Mrs Zumpe?'

His former patron manages a smile.

'Louise is engaged to one of my best craftsmen, you never met him, he came after you left. She is happy, I think. Hannelore misses you, she visited a few concerts but she never got the chance to talk to you. But she is in good health and very proud of you. She was very hard on me for how I treated you, Eric, she was always on your side.'

'She was like a mother to me, Mr Zumpe, do you think she would like to attend a concert as guest of honour? Or maybe visit me at home and hear Miss Darcy and me play together?'

'She said she always knew you were not for Louise, I think she'd love to hear you play with Miss Darcy, she was so glad to see you self-confident and happy. I'm sorry for what happened, Eric, you were always like a son to us. It's hard to lose a son, especially for a mother.'

Dear Mrs Zumpe, she was always very good to him. She wasn't to blame for anything, she never could manage her husband.

'I'll send an invitation, soon, for we'll be going to Pemberley in March. I've been feeling bad about leaving, you know, I've missed my sister and my mother. But I've always had this drive, I can't settle, I need to learn more and try for the top. I guess some people are like that. Louise would have suffered for it, while Miss Darcy relishes our time at the piano. I'm glad Louise found someone she can love. Now I think Miss Darcy wants to try that piano back there, will you indulge her, Mr Clementi?'

Mr Clementi, knowing how matters used to be between Eric and his former patron, has waited very patiently while they sort out some things of the past, he must have expected it, he seems happy they didn't quarrel. Though Mr Zumpe is too much a business-man to quarrel before a potential customer.

'It's not a matter of indulgence, Mr Fielding, if Miss Darcy feels that piano has potential I insist on hearing it. I am not a man to ignore a knowledgeable woman's advice. It seems very plain, and small, but I did say I needed a certain sound.'

As they move towards the plain piano in the back, Mr Zumpe says, a little uncomfortably, 'I'm afraid that piano may be off-tune. I have to pay a tuner these days, gentlemen, and since most buyers ignore that piano-forte totally I've tried to save on my expenses by just leaving it as it is. It's a fine instrument, compact but still with a terrific sound. You used to like it a great deal, Eric, don't you remember?'

He doesn't. It's a completely unremarkable instrument, and there were so many in this room, always changing. But Georgiana is already seated, eager to get her hands on it. She plays a scale, and soon finds out it is indeed out of tune, though not horribly so. Mr Clementi sounds interested.

'It seems to have that quality I am looking for, but it is indeed very small and very plain. I've a reputation to maintain, you know.'

'Let me tune it anyway, Eric,' Georgiana insists, 'it'll do Mr Zumpe a good turn, it's not a waste of time. Then you can examine the other ones together, inside, and play some more romantic work on them. And then when I'm done you can play this one. For me. I think it's special, it's half the size of yours and these others and still it sounds as mellow.'

It's very gratifying to see Mr Zumpe impressed by Georgiana's offer to tune the piano herself, he probably didn't expect such a genteel girl to be able to tune. Or he's stunned by her self-assurance, his daughter would never assert herself that way. Maybe now he'll understand why Louise was not for Eric.

Before they move to another piano Mr Clementi examines the wood of the plain instrument, exclaiming, 'No wonder you didn't adorn it, you made this out of pure mahogany!'

Mr Zumpe beams to have another expert recognise the quality of an instrument no-one else seems to value, standing in a corner unheeded.

'I think the inside is actually made of maple, to improve its resonance, but the shell is mahogany, you spotted that quickly, Mr Clementi. It was an experiment, you know I usually make affordable instruments, replacing much of the quality wood with a cheaper kind, but on this one we went all out. And were punished for it, no-one wants to even look at it, or try its tone. Except Miss Darcy here. Rowan, will you give Miss Darcy what she needs to fine-tune my little beauty? It's kept its tone surprisingly well but I warn you, Miss, it needs a little force to tune well, Eric often complained it was difficult to tune with all the hardwood inside.'

Wilbur seems a bit disappointed to have to leave the group containing Mr Clementi, he is very famous after all, but he'll soon be back, Georgiana doesn't need the man's help tuning a piano, though he should learn. Maybe he doesn't have the ear, a salesman doesn't have to be a good pianist himself to sell a lot of pianos, and as far as Eric remembers Wilbur plays reasonably, not really well.

Now the two piano-builders go all out on the three best instruments present, opening the lids and checking the insides, judging wood, comparing notes on felt, strings, everything Eric always registers when playing a new piano, but just sees as a given. These men actually experiment with them, causing a totally different sound to emerge from their products. Then Eric plays for them, and soon he has a favourite, but he keeps it to himself, Mr Clementi is buying, he has to decide. That worthy is reserving his final judgement as well, and first checks with Georgiana. She is done, and plays a scale to prove the piano is no longer sour. Then she varies it in Eric's style, and launches into one of her favourite Bach adaptations, stunning Mr Zumpe and Wilbur to open-mouthed admiration. Mr Clementi looks on, grinning, he knows Georgiana's potential and he has always shown her the respect she has earned with her hard work and her talent. When she is done after a few minutes, they all applaud and Mr Clementi gives his fellow piano-builder the chance to speak up first.

'Now I understand why you were meant for Eric, Miss Darcy. You will be very happy together. I'm glad you recognised the qualities of this piano.'

'You were right, Miss Darcy,' Mr Clementi now observes, 'this instrument does deserve to be taken seriously despite its size and plainness. Will you allow Mr Fielding to play his latest piece on it, so we can compare it to the others? Bach is beautiful, especially the way you two have adapted it to the piano-forte, but it's romantic music that brings out the best in these Zumpe's.'

And Eric cannot deny the truth in that, Bach actually sounds as good or better on a Clementi, but this sturdy little instrument reminds him of his own beautiful large piano. He lets himself get totally involved in what he is playing, what he plays is not even written down yet and as such is still very fluid, the memories of this place adding to the experience. When he looks up, Mr Zumpe is in tears and Mr Clementi is in severe doubt. Ignoring Mr Zumpe's moment of weakness as men are inclined to do to help the other save face, Mr Clementi observes, 'I'm tempted, but I would not be doing Mr Zumpe a favour by buying his least beautiful instrument. I want my connections to see an imposing, beautifully decorated piano, not a simple black box, I have plenty of space and I can afford the best. So, Mr Zumpe, let's discuss the price of this beauty.'

He walks towards Eric's favourite, good, it's always a pleasant to agree on something. Mr Zumpe approaches Eric first, squeezes his shoulder with more than a little feeling, then joins Mr Clementi. He is touched by the music he used to hate, he needed more time to learn to appreciate what Elizabeth got the first time she heard it. Or maybe he still hates it but dares not admit to that in front of an acknowledged master of playing, building and teaching on a piano. Georgiana sits on Eric's lap and gives him a sweet kiss, acknowledging the moment.

'I'm glad we came here today, Eric, I hope you agree.'

'I suppose I do. I hope you're not too disappointed that your favourite will stay here?'

'No, I've tuned it and it will stay in tune for quite some time I think. If anyone wants to buy it, it'll be ready to demonstrate.'

'I suppose that being made of mahogany it'll be a lot dearer than you'd expect, or I'd be tempted to buy it myself. I'm convinced it would travel really well, and if Austria and Italy are rife with instruments like Mr Clementi's, I'd miss my Zumpe.'

Georgiana tweaks his whiskers, pulling him in for another kiss.

'You'll first have to convince Mr Clementi to give you some references to find a master over there, Eric. Or you'll be spending your whole life in London or Derbyshire, playing piano for a brood of children.'

She says it playfully, but Eric still worries about that. They can't travel the continent or live abroad with Georgiana carrying a child or with a baby, it would be dangerous. But for now, they're not even married, yet, and Eric feels a certain relief having talked to Mr Zumpe again. It will not be a burden to ask Mrs Zumpe over for an afternoon concert in the privacy of the Darcy home, it'll be a pleasure. He cannot help growing up and leaving, but he can show her his gratitude for having been a mother to him for all those years.

Despite Frederick's assurances that no-one will suspect Miss de Bourgh of having committed indecencies with the victim of today's inquiries at the courthouse, Anne is still a bit nervous going there. She will not see Nick, but she will probably face Wellesley there, and Felicity and Sophie and Angelina. Sophie knows there was something going on between Nick and Anne, hopefully not how much, but she saw them kiss and dance intimately. And besides, Dora is nervous, too, and her fidgeting is infectious.

'Let it go, Anne,' Frederick's deep voice admonishes her, 'and you, too, Dora. It's not a big deal, Mr Blackwood's barrister asks you questions, Mr Wellesley's barrister asks you questions, you answer them, then you may go. That's it. I'll be in the audience, if you worry just look at me, and I'll send you a calming look. You, too, Dora.'

Anne can see Dora think, 'He may be old and not very handsome, but he's very kind.'

To Anne herself Frederick's appearance no longer matters, he has been such a steady friend and supporter she cannot but love him for that. Let Dora think of that what she will, if she confuses Anne's feelings for Frederick with infatuation all the better.

The courthouse is a lovely modern building, with all the modern comforts and a rich interior. They are met by some employee of the courthouse, who leads Dora away immediately. Frederick follows them with a short, 'I promised I'd be in the audience, Anne, see you later!'

Well, Anne is less anxious than Dora seems to be, of course Dora used to feel threatened by Wellesley, whereas Anne never did. Anne sits down in a windowsill, knowing the same man will fetch her when she is needed. Part of her is actually quite curious, she has never been in a courtroom and she is starting to believe Frederick that no-one will be interested in her intimacy with Nick. It started after he got hurt, it's very possible it happened because he was hurt, though Anne doubts she could have resisted him even if he had been bossy towards her.

Somehow, her wait turns into a long reminiscence of her time with Nick, and this time it's mostly sweet, not painful. She still misses him but she knows that is her own foolishness, he never promised her more than what he gave her. In her mind, it's her own fault and none of his that she fell in love with him, and she wants to remember the love he gave her as something beautiful, not sad or tragic. As a gift, and not a loss.

When the same employee brings back Dora after fifteen minutes, Mr Blackwood is there to meet her. As Anne walks along with the liveried young man, she can hear Mr Blackwood thank Dora for her clear testimony. So she did well, good. Soon it will be Anne's turn.

After taking her to a seat between a single dressed-up man who has to be the judge, and a group of normal people who are most likely the jury, the attendant leaves her, and a man of middle age with a powdered wig offers her his hand and introduces himself as Mr Proust, Mr Blackwood's barrister.

'I'm going to ask you several questions, Miss de Bourgh, though they may seem irrelevant to you, they are important to me. If you would answer them truthfully I'd be thankful. Usually, the defendant's barrister would ask questions, too, but he doesn't have one, so you'll be done rather quickly.'

Following his eyes when he mentions the defendant, Anne discerns Wellesley sitting between two attendants, probably guards. She knows he nearly killed Nick, but he looks so depressed and hopeless she cannot help feeling sad for him. She also knows Nick doesn't want to see him punished harshly, he has forgiven his tormentor more easily than Mr Blackwood seems to have done. Now someone calls for order, and Mr Proust starts with his first question.

'Miss de Bourgh, you were staying over at Mr Blackwood's house for some days?'

'I was, sir. I was introduced to Miss Sophie Blackwood and Miss Angelina Blackwood by Mr Manners, and we took a liking to each other, so they asked me to come and stay with them for a few days.'

'And you knew Nick Fowler was being harassed by the defendant, Mr Wellesley?'

'I found out when my maid told me about it, she had seen Mr Wellesley hit Mr Fowler, and once Miss Sophie urged him to tell her father. She had heard from her maid.'

'And did he, Miss de Bourgh?'

'He told us he did not plan to, he was afraid he wouldn't be believed because the butler was of a higher rank in the household.'

'Yet Mr Fowler told us he did not defend himself against the attempt on his life because he wanted evidence to present to his master to stop the abuse. Not for himself, but because the other members of the household were suffering.'

Anne bows her head, she is still not proud of pressuring Nick by telling him the whole household suffered for the butler's misuse of power.

'I have to admit I did tell him my maid was very afraid of Mr Wellesley, and I more or less told Mr Fowler he was not the only one suffering, and that he should tell his master about the abuse to help all of them. I'm afraid he nearly died because of my advice.'

'Is that why you took him under your wing when you found him in the hall, badly wounded?'

'Of course not, that suggests I would have let him suffer if I hadn't felt guilty. Or if it had been anyone else. I had never seen a wounded person before, and I'm glad to have discovered myself bolder and more compassionate than I ever held possible. I felt compelled to help him, as I would have helped anyone.'

'And it didn't occur to you to get help?'

'Strangely enough, no. I even searched the kitchen with a candle to find painkillers and potable water, when I had never been there before.'

The man nods, then changes direction altogether in his questions.

'Miss de Bourgh, Mr Fowler accompanied you on morning walks, didn't he?'

'I need a lot of exercise for my health, I've been sickly for years and are finally improving in health. Since I didn't trust my maid to keep me safe outside I asked Mr Fowler to accompany me. We only went out once, for that very night he was attacked and no longer able to walk more than a few yards.'

'Why Mr Fowler, Miss de Bourgh, why didn't you ask your host to appoint someone to accompany you?'

'Well, Mr Fowler did accompany us to every outing, so I thought he would have been Mr Blackwood's choice anyway. And frankly, sir, I didn't want my host to know about my condition. I have been cosseted and patronised all my life and I was fed up with it. I knew I was going to get better every day and I didn't want to betray my weakness to the world at large.'

'But after the walk you were totally exhausted. Maybe you should have chosen another attendant, who would have judged your condition more accurately?'

'That was exactly what I wanted to avoid. I did not want someone else deciding what I could and couldn't do. Mr Fowler took me on an hour's walk, and when that proved too much he helped me correct my own mistake, just as I wanted it. I misjudged my own strength, which is how I want to lead my life from now on, making my own decisions and yes, my own mistakes sometimes. Which is why I didn't want the family to know I had been sick for a very long time.'

'Wasn't that dangerous, Miss de Bourgh?'

'It wasn't, overexertion couldn't harm me since I was just weak and not actually sick. I can tell you what ailed me, but not in public for it is no longer relevant. I'm altogether well now. I went out to walk to the limits of my strength, and I took someone along who could protect me and help me get back if my strength gave out. There was no danger.'

'Did you tell Mr Fowler about your past sickness?'

'I did.'

'Why him? If you didn't even want your host to know?'

'I felt like telling him, he was nice and very respectful. It was good talking to someone who didn't know me.'

'Were you in love with him, Miss de Bourgh?'

Somehow, Anne knew it would end in this question, though she has no idea why. Since she had not been in love with Nick at that moment, she replies truthfully, knowing her faint blush will be considered outrage, or embarrassment.

'I was not, sir. Later someone told me that Mr Fowler is a reputed philanderer, but I never noticed. He seemed to me like a kind older brother, very easy to talk to. When I got tired, I felt no objection at all to take his arm because I would have expected support from an older brother, if I had ever had one.'

'I have no further questions, Miss de Bourgh.'

He looks at the other men, and one of them stands up and addresses her.

'Thank you Miss de Bourgh, and please excuse the impertinent questions. They were needed to give an impression of a possible motive for the crime committed. You may leave now.'

As Anne walks towards the exit she avoids looking at Frederick, for she is suddenly close to tears, realising how much she misses Nick and how unlikely it is that she will ever be with him again.

In the hall, Mr Blackwood embraces her and says, 'I'm sorry to put you through that, Miss de Bourgh, you're all upset. I didn't want Proust to ask those questions, but he said we needed to know whether Wellesley attacked Nick out of jealousy. Nick wanted to know. I'm certain he'll be proud you thought of him as an older brother, he is indeed very easy to confide in. Will you be coming over again soon? The girls miss you, and I think you have an excellent influence on them.'

He is a very nice man, but Anne can't visit, it's too painful still. But she can't tell him that, either, so she'll just be vague.

'I didn't mind that much, Mr Blackwood, though those questions were a bit impertinent. I hope you'll learn what you need to know, and I hope Mr Wellesley will not be punished worse than Nick wants. He did not like the idea of someone being killed in his name. I will try to come over, soon, but I'm working hard on my exercise, and then I'm usually rather tired at night.'

Fortunately, Frederick arrives, and also embraces Anne, though a lot more familiarly.

'You did well, Miss de Bourgh, he was more insistent than I expected, some of those questions were downright rude, you could have refused to reply, you know.'

'I'm certain that would have made everyone present think up a nice little answer of their own, Mr Manners. I prefer they've heard my version to compare their own fantasy to.'

'And it was ironclad, Miss, you totally disarmed everyone, your frankness was much better than a blunt refusal would have been. You were made for the game, Miss de Bourgh, I admire you.'

Mr Blackwood beams, it's as if he wants Anne to be with Frederick. Well, maybe he does, if one may believe the papers most of London does. They all want him to be happy, and apparently they think Anne is good enough for their favourite. And their eventual union is getting more and more likely, Anne really dislikes the implications that a servant would have been better in deciding what was good for her that she was herself. If anyone will let Anne make her own decisions, it's Frederick.

Dora is already waiting, and Mr Blackwood observes to all three of them, 'I'll send word on the verdict, and do come over again soon, Miss de Bourgh. I'm sure Nick would be delighted to accompany you on your exercise, this court case has really made an impression on him, he has been feeling a bit low, it might do him good to take a long walk in good company.'

The temptation is huge but it will not do. Nick probably gets plenty of exercise in his beautiful little piece of heaven in the attic. No need to trouble him with her presence, it would only make things worse for Anne. On their way back, Dora is almost lively with relief.

'It wasn't bad at all, Miss, that kind man asked me a lot of questions and I answered them. He wanted to know how often Wellesley beat up on Fowler, and when it happened. And why we didn't get a doctor for Fowler when he was so badly hurt. But he didn't seem to be, he talked the same as ever. And why the other staff didn't do anything to stop Wellesley before Fowler was almost killed. Of course I wasn't really part of the Blackwood staff, but I often felt I should have done something. I did feel bad for Wellesley, he looked so beat. Still he did nearly kill Fowler, how can anyone hurt him? He's so cute.'

Frederick sends Anne a significant look, but she knows Nick is cute, isn't she suffering for it? But when the excitement over the trial dies down she will be able to forget him, and enjoy the last few weeks of city life before they all move to Derbyshire.


	102. Chapter 102

Chapter 112

Having sat with her sister and her friends for another whole day, talking and teaching them new stitches from Mrs Annesley's repertoire, Elizabeth is readying herself for her visit to Mrs Drummond's attic. Darcy is surprised at his beloved's patience with her sister, though he must admit Lydia improves a lot in the presence of her friends. One more morning with the Drummond family, not a penance since Darcy is very curious what the colonel has decided with respect to his plans for Mr Miller's horses. And then they'll have the afternoon and evening to themselves, and the whole day tomorrow, until they are expected to join the Kembles for dinner and a show in their theatre on their last night in Newcastle. Since his hair is already perfected and Fanny is still busy gilding Elizabeth just a tiny step further, Darcy decides to keep Bob company for a while. He knows his driver will be waiting for his beloved in the dining-room, they use the rooms opposite to the other guests, since they are staff but their landlady wants them to feel as if they are just a young couple on an early honeymoon. Mrs Herbert is a treasure, and Darcy will certainly recommend her guesthouse to anyone looking for a place to stay in the vicinity of Newcastle.

Finding Bob where he expects him to be, Darcy sits down and accepts a cup of coffee from his driver.

'Fanny still busy with the mistress, sir?' Bob asks, much more comfortable with his master since they started to talk once in a while. 'She certainly didn't expect to be so busy on this trip, the mistress told her she'd mainly be along to unpack and keep me company. Though I think she likes making Mrs Darcy look the perfect London lady.'

Darcy merely nods, there is something he wants to discuss with Bob and he doesn't know where to start. It's not as if a fellow likes to hear his fiancée is actually out of his league.

'Do you get jealous, Bob?' Darcy asks bluntly.

'You mean of other men?' the plain little driver asks. 'I would, if Fanny showed any interest in another man. But though they really fancy her, and generally find it hard to believe she is engaged to a plain fellow like me, she never returns that interest. She just rebuffs them steadily until they give up. She's friendly and all, just totally uninterested in other men. It makes it easier, as does being known as the driver of your thoroughbreds, sir. Somehow, the status of your team reflects on me. More so at the Drummond estate than here, scribes don't care all that much about horses, and they certainly like Fanny's looks.'

'That is what I meant, yes, jealous of other men admiring your girl. I get jealous sometimes, and I don't want to, it's petty to feel that way. I've asked other men with beautiful, popular wives how they cope, hoping to learn something. Mr Kemble said more or less what you just said.'

'But you've no reason to be jealous at all, master. Mrs Darcy never so much as looks at another man, and you're rich and handsome, I've seen her look at you often enough to know she worships you as much as you worship her. Just last Sunday, in church, I nudged Fanny to have her see how much you were both admired by everyone there, but Mrs Darcy, she saw only you.'

'I know she loves me, and still I feel jealous sometimes.'

Bob nods again, as if he understands.

'I'm a very calm person, master, remember how you were ready to challenge that gentleman who dared lay a hand on Fanny? I was merely happy to find her all right, and no longer in danger of being molested. I guess you have more of a temper. If I had a temper I'd be in a world of trouble with your thoroughbreds, sir, they'd pick it up instantly.'

And then he seems to realise something.

'But you're good with sensitive horses, too, you never lose your temper with them. I suppose that's not it, then.'

'No, I think you're onto something. Mrs Darcy rarely loses her temper, I do so much more quickly. Except I know I need to let that go when dealing with a horse, or I'll never be able to ride the kind of horse I like. So maybe I can find that state when dealing with men admiring my beloved. Mr Kemble is also a very even-tempered man, and when I was standing beside him I wasn't feeling jealous at all. Thank you, Bob, I think talking to you has helped a great deal, I'll contemplate what you said and see whether I can be more like you and keep my cool.

Now tell me, do you think Williams will be a good stablemaster for the Drummond stables?'

They discuss horses and stables for some time, until Fanny enters and Darcy moves to his own breakfast table, where his perfectly groomed lady is waiting for him, admired by many of the business-men, but only having eyes for him.

And when they drive back that afternoon right after lunch they have plenty to tell each other, the one advantage of being separated for some time.

'The Drummond attics are incredible, my love,' Elizabeth starts. No fewer than three beautiful silk rugs are added to the luggage they will have to find a place for on their return journey, 'Mrs Drummond insisted on my taking one for the dining-room at Pemberley, to match Mrs Annesley's centrepiece. She said they'd drop by to admire the room when it is finished, of course it's not that far from here to Derbyshire. You don't mind, do you?'

'No, I quite like Colonel Drummond, I'd like to show him Pemberley. Did Mrs Drummond think she'd dare ride astride?'

'I'm certain she will. She's as much a natural horseman as you, Fitzwilliam, she'd love to ride that young stallion of theirs. They are such a loving couple, when she expected to stay single all her life. She reminds me of Anne, independent and unwilling to deliver herself to some man who may only be after her money. Though Mrs Drummond has had a happier youth. I'm looking forward to getting to know your cousin, my love, she deserves some attention and a lot of happiness. Imagine balancing on the brink of death for ten years, unable to really live. If I were her I'd settle in a house of my own and live my own life, though some would be scandalised.'

'She could stay with us as easily, until she meets someone she can love.'

'But what if that takes ten years, like it did Mrs Drummond? And even then her family disapproved of her marriage, because the man she loved wasn't good enough. He was only a captain then, you know. If I were Anne I'd not want to stay with a relative for a long time, you're always going to get involved in what she is doing with her life, you cannot help that, you're so used to being in charge.'

'Like Manners,' Darcy observes, though he is a bit hurt that Elizabeth still finds him meddlesome. But she is right, he would get involved.

'He can be meddlesome, yes. But Frederick doesn't patronise.'

'Well, if you notice me patronising Anne, please let me know, I'll try to refrain from doing it. Seriously. I didn't insist on her taking a chaperone when my aunt would have. Oh, that sounds patronising already, doesn't it?'

'It does, my love, she's not your sister and she is almost your age. You would let me go anywhere by myself, and I'm much younger. Did marriage change me so much? Her life should be her own to lead.'

'I'll learn, really. Eventually.'

They kiss, smiling, looking forward to the afternoon and an evening at their guesthouse.

'Maybe I should spend some more time with my sister tomorrow, it will be months before we see each other again.'

'I think that is a fabulous idea, and if you don't mind I'll come with you. We've been separated too often these last weeks, I want to be with you.'

Exactly one week after their outing to Fitzwilliam's camp, and almost a week before Darcy and Elizabeth are expected to return to London, Anne receives a note from Fitzwilliam. She has written to him to thank him for a great day out, of course, and he returned a sweet little note telling her he had a good time himself, but nothing more. And since she has avoided the Blackwood girls for almost a week now she had no clue how Sophie was doing with Fitzwilliam. And now this note from him. He wants to see Miss Sophie Blackwood again, she made quite an impression on him but he dares not contact her. She's so young, and he really has nothing to offer her. Can Anne ask her friend where he stands?

Well, if he hasn't contacted her for a week Sophie will either have put him out of her mind, or she'll be desperate. One would expect a man like Fitzwilliam to know what to do if he likes a girl, he has such easy manners. Still, he is her cousin and she has to help him, Sophie is just the right kind of girl for him. There is the possibility to call on the family, but she'd rather not. Much better to just have Sophie over for a family dinner and invite Fitzwilliam as well. If she doesn't show up he has his answer.

First she asks Frederick, who has plenty to say.

'They've been at the concerts every night except one rather grubby venue. Nick was with them, searching the audience for you and turning pale when he didn't spot you. Little Miss Sophie didn't look as bright-eyed either. Didn't go up to talk to Eric, stuck to your friend a lot. I guess they're both a bit sick with love, I guess it's the fashion nowadays to suffer. I expect him to work up the courage to ask me about you any day now, he doesn't know anything, you may be dying for all he knows. Anything you want me to tell him when he does ask?'

'This is not about him, Frederick, Fitzwilliam wrote he had never dared contact Sophie again. He wants me to ask whether he has a chance with her. I think he was damaged somehow, he's so insecure.'

'To be sure he was. He's been sick with love, too, ever since Elizabeth married Darcy. Remember how I told you to have them over for dinner? Just do it. It'll do a world of good.'

So Anne does, asks Mrs Annesley, consults Cook, talks to Georgiana and Eric, writes to both Sophie and Fitzwilliam to invite them for a family dinner in two days, when Eric has a late concert. Both accept. Sophie arrives, Fitzwilliam arrives, they blush, talk shyly, grow more confident. They talk through dinner, through coffee, through Eric and Georgiana leaving with Mr and Mrs Bingley. Frederick stays behind this once, and Anne talks to him until Simon comes in and asks Anne, 'Can I speak to you in private for a moment, Miss de Bourgh?'

Anne follows him out, puzzled by his wish to see her, whatever can they have to talk about? He leads her down the hall, past Darcy's study, to the servants' part of the house. Then he opens a door, it's his own room, Anne has been there before, chatting away with Simon and Frederick. Inside, she sees Nick, they've set her up! Frederick and Simon, they knew he'd accompany Sophie.

'But, who is with Angelina at the concert?'

Sometimes shock can get a person to say the stupidest things. Nick gets up from the simple chair he's sitting on.

'Angelina is at home with her own officer, Miss Anne. I'm afraid the girls' admiration for Mr Fielding has seen its last days.'

His expression becomes pained, and he takes both her hands and pleads, 'I've been in a state since we came back from the camp, Miss. I never saw you anymore, you might have been ill, or abducted to Rosings. I had to know, but I didn't dare ask Mr Manners for fear of his answer.'

The feeling in his voice totally overwhelms her, and she just blurts out the truth.

'I've been well, Nick, just very confused. I couldn't seem to shake off my feelings for you, I thought it best to not see you for a while.'

'Dear Miss Anne, I'm so sorry, and now I'm here, where you least want me.'

He releases her hands and hangs his head as he used to when she was being arrogant, then looks up at Simon.

'And you knew, didn't you? Must you and your puppet master torture this poor girl? She's having a hard enough time as it is.'

'Why not be true to yourself, Nick,' Simon says softly, kindly. 'Just kiss the girl already, can't you see she's aching for a little love?'

Before Anne can protest that she doesn't need any charity, Nick has her in his arms and he kisses her, little kisses, uncertain of his reception. But Anne can no longer resist, she's been dreaming of Nick each night, remembering their nights together, and their sneaking kisses by day in his little cubicle. As before, she will not spoil this moment with tears, she will not think of what is to come, she will pretend he is hers forever to have a perfect memory to last her for weeks. His arms around her, his soft mouth on hers, the taste of his tongue and his familiar scent.

When they break off that kiss, Anne knows. She cannot let go of Nick, not yet. She is unable to just remove him from her life, she loves him and she will have to see this through. Of course she may be hurt even worse, but it hurts so much now. Maybe she can stop loving him after some time, marry Frederick or maybe someone like Lieutenant Talbot after all.

'You have some spare time every week, don't you Nick?'

Nick nods to Simon to confirm this, but he does not release Anne, it's rather as if he tightens his hold on her.

'You are welcome to come visit me, Nick. It's the most natural thing in the world, is it not, for two house servants to spend some time together? And we have plenty of private places in this house.'

Nick knows where Simon is going, and it seems to irritate him to no end.

'I have spare time, Simon, but not enough to walk over, give Miss Anne what she truly deserves, then walk back. She's not a mere skirt, Simon, Miss Anne needs someone to really be there for her.'

'Mr Manners will be very pleased to oblige you, Nick, have you fetched and taken back. And Miss Anne will be glad to have you with her even if it's just a few hours.'

'Why, Simon? Why would Mr Manners do that? What's in it for him? If he wants to marry her why would he want competition? Why would he go out of his way to help a lowborn servant do the woman he wants as his wife? I don't get it.'

'Then why don't you ask the puppet master, Nick? I'm sure he'll tell you. You can be sure he has his motives, but meanwhile he can make both of you very happy. If you'll just listen to him!'

'I can't understand why you do these things for him, Simon! He's not even your own master. You're not obliged to obey him!'

Simon remains calm, Frederick and he make a formidable team, Anne is impressed despite agreeing with Nick. Frederick is playing again, but this time with their feelings, Nick's and hers. Still, now she is safe in Nick's arms again she knows for a fact that there is no other place she wants to be. Better be his mistress, better share him with countless other women, than bear having him out of her life. Anne gives up, she'd rather have part of this man than all of another.

'If Mr Manners were to give you an order, Nick, wouldn't you obey him?'

Nick rests his head on Anne's and mumbles, 'Yes, I would. Instantly.'

'Well then, ask him that too, Nick. And when you visit, the last stall, behind the bales of straw. You will be thrilled.'

Nick is still convinced Simon is like him, a philanderer who has secret liaisons in certain places in his master's house. Little does he know that Simon will never be able to acknowledge his true love openly, and feeds the rumours about his exploits to avoid suspicion of his true affiliation. But if Anne can have Nick in her arms once a week she can face the shame and the secrecy, she is sure. She feels so safe and wanted in his solid embrace. His voice sounds affected, positively husky, as he asks, 'Is this what you want, Anne? Do you want to receive the love you so rightly deserve in small, hasty portions, delivered to you in the deepest secrecy?'

'Yes, Nick, I want you more than anyone.'

'When you know there is at least one decent man who would marry you and be yours all day and all night, in public as well as in a secret little cubby in an attic or a stables? That lieutenant is a righteous man, you can have him or one like him any time you want.'

'I still only want you, Nick. I love you.'

'Even if we can never really be together. I should refuse but I can't, Anne, I love you too much to let you go. I'll talk to Mr Manners, if he'll see me.'

The certainty of seeing him again, holding him again, even if it's just once a week, even if he spends the rest of the time with others, makes Anne incredibly happy. Surely there will be shame, and fear to be caught, and jealousy, but she'll have Nick. For now, that is enough.

'He'll see you, Nick,' Simon observes with dead certainty. He has plenty of confidence, that one, he'll be a perfect gentleman once they start travelling the continent. 'Mr Manners likes you, a lot.'

It's hard to leave Nick's arms to go back to her guests, even after a lot more kisses, but she really cannot stay away any longer. Of course Frederick eyes her with apprehension when she returns, he planned all this. He is set to see her with Nick, of course he doesn't believe Nick will see other women and the truth is that if he weren't, things would be just perfect. She could marry Frederick and be his wife in public, and they could all live together and do what they liked at home. More or less, if they'd be able to find loyal staff. She gives him a little smile to prove she doesn't reproach him for his meddling and he is visibly relieved.

'We were waiting for you to return, Anne,' Fitzwilliam observes. 'Thank you so much for inviting us. I need to go back to my camp, but I've had a magnificent evening. I hope we may soon meet again, Miss Sophie, I've missed your playing tonight.'

Still so formal? Poor Sophie, she'll think she did something wrong.

'I'll gladly play for you again, Colonel, but maybe you can imagine I didn't dare offer in the presence of Miss Darcy and Mr Fielding. They're the best, and I play so poorly.'

'I think you play beautifully, Miss Sophie. But even if you are less gifted than two professional pianists that doesn't make your performance less enjoyable than theirs. Mrs Darcy always thought the same, but she finally had to accept it's not just the technical difficulty of the piece that counts. It's as much the emotion, and the memories attached to it, even the performer herself that make the experience valuable. I'll gladly hear you play those Italian songs again, Miss Sophie.'

Well, well, now Sophie can go home feeling a little better. Anne is reasonably sure that Fitzwilliam is working very hard to supplant his unreachable ideal with the completely opposite reality. But she may have to be a little patient before she finally gets him.

Anne takes her beloved cousin to the front door, where Hugo is holding his horse. They kiss, and Anne observes, 'Come again soon, Fitzwilliam, if you can.'

He embraces her tightly, he must have some feelings to vent and he loves Anne as much as she loves him, then says, 'I will Anne. I think it's time to move on and finally be happy. Thank you again for what you are doing for me, Anne, I feel alive for the first time in at least a year. Do you think she loves me, Anne?'

'I know she does, Fitzwilliam. She told me, was very disappointed you didn't seem to notice her. I'm glad you finally did.'

'I'll need a little time to adapt, but I think I'll manage. Maybe soon. Good night, dear cousin!'

'Good night, Fitzwilliam!'

When she returns, Frederick gets up.

'Even though it's pretty late, I have some little thing to do. But I guess you'll want to talk a little with Miss Anne before you leave, Miss Sophie?'

'If Anne doesn't mind, of course.' Sophie already sounds much less girlish, there must be a rather serious girl hidden in that frivolous young thing.

Anne is fairly certain that Frederick wants to have a word with Nick, and though it bothers her to be treated like a pawn she does not want to lose Nick, and Frederick is her best chance to keep seeing him.

'Your cousin is so sweet, Anne, the better I get to know him the more I love him. But he seems very sad somehow, and it's as if he doesn't even realise it himself.'

'He was in love with someone, Sophie, and before he realised how much, she had married someone else. He never stood a chance to win her.'

'That is indeed very sad. I used to love Nick, but he doesn't love me, I think he loves you.'

Anne is shocked Sophie has seen their involvement, but she tries to hide it, of course.

'He's a servant, Sophie. And besides, he cannot be claimed, he does not love one woman, he told me so himself.'

'He told you that? It's not how he looks at you when your back is turned, Anne. And when you weren't at the concerts last week he kept looking for you. You know he doesn't act like a servant at all, he is more like our brother. But I guess that precludes love, too. So I think I shall try to make your cousin a little less sad instead.'

'It may take a while, Sophie, I'm not sure if he's ready, but I think you will succeed, you'll not be sorry.'

'I'm just sorry you can't make Nick happy, Anne. I do love him, you know.'

'Nick's not unhappy, Sophie, you must be mistaken. He doesn't fall in love, he likes to spread his love around.'

'Not anymore, Anne, he hasn't had any ladies in his hideout since you started to be kind to him. And he's been very unhappy since you moved here, I think he's afraid you'll marry Mr Manners. I know you cannot marry a servant but I feel bad for him, he's been our best friend for years.'

Nick hasn't slept with other women at all? For weeks? He's been unhappy over her?

'Are you certain it wasn't just being hurt that made him feel bad, Sophie?'

'No, he was very happy when you were so nice to him! With his eyes black and blue, and cuts everywhere, he kept smiling and smiling. Then when we danced, I've never seen him dance with someone to the exclusion of all else. He always kept an eye on us, but then he only had eyes for you. No, Anne, I know Nick, have known him for three years now. He is desperately in love with you, though he may try to hide it if he thinks you'll scorn him for it. As I said, he isn't really a servant to us, he's quite proud. He can do that because papa thinks the world of him.'

'He was always very polite to me, Sophie.'

She grins, does she suspect?

'That just proves he loves you. Ask him, he's right here in the house, he'd love to see you. He was very nervous to come here, though he must have known you'd be here and he'd be there. I bet he wants to kiss you again, like he did at the dance. Or hold you, and nuzzle your neck. I should be jealous of you but I merely wish you could just love him.'

With the utmost self control Anne replies airily, but of course her feeling does creep into her voice, 'I'm very sorry you think Nick is unhappy over me. I hope he feels better, soon, Sophie. I'll just come to some concerts next week, if you still go there, and we can talk a little. If not, I'll visit at your place, I want to know how the trial went, he didn't like to testify against Wellesley. You know I like Nick, he saved me from being dragged back to my mother, I'll always be grateful for that.'

But when Frederick returns he has Nick with him and they are actually chatting like friends. Nick is trying his best to look neutral, but Anne can see he is thrilled. Frederick must have told him something he liked to hear.

'Are you ready to go home, Miss Sophie?' he asks. 'Your father will be waiting to hear how your visit was, I'm sure. If you get married, and Angelina to her own officer, I'm going to find myself without a job.' But he says it almost gleefully. Sophie doesn't hear that, though.

'Oh no, Nick! Papa will find you some other job, he'll never let you down, he loves you like a son!'

Anne makes sure to beam on him, to show him all the love she feels for him so he'll stop feeling low. And if he cheats on her, so be it, her parents' marriage has proven that the state of holy matrimony is no guarantee for lasting love and happiness either. She will take every day as it comes, and enjoy Nick's love as long as it lasts. The cheeky fellow even dares to kiss her when it looks like no-one is paying attention to them.

'See you soon, my love,' he whispers. What has Frederick told him?

Asking one of the most influential gentlemen in London why he is pulling Nick's strings like a puppet master, and more importantly, why he is doing the same to the woman he is reputedly planning to make his wife, is probably not a very smart thing to do for a lowly servant of a minor family. Mr Manners did describe to Nick the heavy handed way he and his friends raised themselves at boarding school, and he has quite a reputation of ruthlessness towards enemies.

Still Nick might have known he'd get nothing worse in response to his brazen question than a slightly painful bear-hug.

'You have every right to be disgruntled, Nick, I've used you ruthlessly to get at what I think I cannot have without you. Remember Lieutenant Talbot?'

Nick certainly does, the perfectly eligible officer who showed such a delightful interest in Miss Anne. Of course Nick hates him like poison, but at the same time he knows this is exactly the man Miss Anne could be very happy with. Righteous, admiring, of excellent birth and with just enough fortune to build a perfect life together. No roving eye, the lieutenant, a faithful husband he would make.

'I do. He would be a much better match for Miss Anne than you. She said you are a philanderer.'

'He would indeed make a much better husband than I, but not because I crave to please other women. I fear his kind, because I really, really want to marry Miss Anne, but I cannot give her love. My heart is given to another, whom I can never marry.'

Nick is outraged, even worse than having affairs! But Mr Manners holds up a soothing hand.

'This is where you come in. Because I cannot give Miss Anne the love she deserves, I cannot compete with a man like Talbot, though my name and fortune far exceed his, and I'd leave Miss Anne free to live the life she wants to. You, however, give me an edge: you love her as much as she loves you, though you have both tried to deny it and forget it. Give it up, it won't work, accept your love, celebrate it. Once Miss Anne has made the decision to marry me, all four of us can be with the one we want, and the outside world will only see a fairytale marriage of an average gentleman with a stunningly beautiful woman. That is why I manipulated you, Nick, you are the prize I need to lure Miss Anne into a mutually beneficial marriage. And until she decides, I will protect both of you when you see each other in secret.'

'And why does Simon allow you to use him as your liaison behind the scenes?'

'I thought that should be perfectly clear to you, Nick, as a man who is generally liked without putting any special effort into it.'

'I help Mr Manners because I like him, Nick. He is a nice man, who treats me with respect, and therefore I want to help him.'

It's true from both perspectives: Nick does like Mr Manners and would go through quite some trouble to please him. And people like Nick, and are always eager to please him for no particular reason at all.

'We are more alike than you'd think, Nick, you and I. Take your time to consider what it would be like to live as I propose. There are things you wouldn't be able to do together, like kissing or holding hands in public. And I'd expect you to sire a few heirs, when Anne has told me you don't want children.'

'You'd want my children to inherit your estate? But people would find out!'

'We look enough alike that even my own mother would never notice my children were actually yours. You will be a servant in name only, free to do as you decide together. You will never lack money, you will never have to tolerate abuse again. In the country you can even pass as my cousin twice removed, you will get to ride, hunt, eat as much goose liver and truffles as you can stomach. And in town you can play the society game as our man in the background. Think about it, talk it over with Anne, and let me know. Easy enough to find you a place in my household.'

For a moment, Nick is overwhelmed. He has a nice, easy life now, will he turn that upside down to be with a woman? He has always set the scene for his affairs, can he dance to another man's tune?

Then reality strikes: even if they don't marry an officer, Mr Blackwood will tolerate his girls going out until they are twenty-one. That's a year and a half, and then Nick will have to look for other employment. Does he really need to be noble and free Miss Anne to marry a worthy man? What if she can never love a man like Lieutenant Talbot? What if she does marry a man like that and he appropriates her fortune and locks her up in his country house? Or they end up like his master and mistress, totally indifferent to each other? Why not just take the chance and love each other?

Is a Lieutenant Talbot really worth more than a Mr Manners? The latter is honest at the very least. And what if Miss Anne wants to try other men? She has been fettered her whole youth, let her finally be free! Live the exciting life Mr Manners leads, always in the thick of society, surrounded by admirers. Nick doesn't expect to want to pick up his own philandering, he's well and truly hooked, but who knows? Maybe after a year or two he will start to look about him again.

'You have given me much to think about, Mr Manners. I've consistently told myself I am not good enough for Miss Anne, not just because of my low status, also because I have led a far from unblemished life so far. I love her with all my heart, and I want to make her happy. You give me hope that maybe I can be part of her life.'

'Why don't we all think it over, get to know each other, and take our time to come to a decision?'

And that is good advice, Nick now knows what Mr Manners wants from Miss Anne and from him, and why the gentleman spends so much time on a mere servant. He supposes they know each other a lot better now, but he does wonder what kind of woman can be so much in love with Mr Manners that she'd accept his marrying another woman to secure his place in society. Will Nick like her, and will Miss Anne like her? She must be very lowborn or the man would just marry her, fortune or not.


	103. Chapter 103

Chapter 113

Something must have happened yesterday for Anne is more beautiful than ever. Georgiana can hardly believe how less than a month can make such a difference in her cousin's appearance, but it's undeniable. It's not merely that she has gained a lot of weight and in all the right places. There is more going on, she is wearing a dress Georgiana has never seen before but that's not it either, it's like her cheeks are blushing with more than just health, she looks happy, carefree. Her breakfast is disappearing rapidly, and she looks ready to burst with some news.

'Better tell us the good news, Anne, or you'll burst at the seams.'

Frederick treats Anne with such regard, if Georgiana didn't know better she'd think he was in love with her. Look at him beaming. But Georgiana wants to say something first.

'You're still growing more beautiful, Anne, if not by the day at least by the week. And you have a new dress I'm sure.'

The poor, love-starved Anne who came to stay with uncle Spencer has been relegated to the past, this is a fashionable, self-assured young woman ready to face the world.

'Thank you for telling me, Georgiana. Part of me still feels like the emaciated, tired girl I used to be, it's so nice to be reminded I'm alive now. And you are right, it is a new dress, I bought it a few days ago on a shopping expedition with Frederick, Simon and Dora. We went to Miss Filliger's place and chose some nice dresses, I've gained so much weight I had plenty to choose from. I bought Dora one, too, she's been so faithful to me, and she is learning to become a real lady's maid so fast. I thought it might help her give testimony if she could wear a pretty new dress.'

Right, the courthouse, they were going to testify for Mr Blackwood, who was prosecuting a former employee for assaulting another servant.

'And, did the dress work?' Georgiana asks.

'I guess it did, Dora was pleased with the proceedings. And Frederick, my big news is that Mr Blackwood sent word, he is calling this afternoon to give us the latest news on the case. He's bringing Fowler, who apparently wants to thank Dora and me for our testimony. You know I felt a bit guilty towards Fowler, I convinced him he had to stand up for himself to help the other staff, and then he nearly got killed. I'm glad he's all right.'

'Your reasoning is not sound, Anne. Standing up for the others didn't get him beaten up, had he stood up against the butler he would most likely have been the one on trial. You convinced him to take it to his master, which had nothing to do with the assault.'

Anne's reasoning unsound? That cannot be, something must be going on to make her cousin less than objective. Maybe Georgiana should contrive to be present, to take a good look at Anne when she meets this servant. Wait a minute, 'Is it the one with the shiners? Who always herds his charges away from Eric so expertly?'

'That's Fowler, yes.'

Georgiana nods, she remembers him well. Very capable, none too happy lately with his charges being obsessed by a couple of officers new to their party.

'Wasn't one of those girls of his here with cousin Fitzwilliam yesterday? What was her name, Miss Sophie? They seemed quite smitten, I was so happy to see cousin Fitzwilliam so interested in another woman. Your Mr Fowler will be looking for a new job soon, I guess.'

Does Anne blush the tiniest bit? It's difficult to see, her colour was already high. But Georgiana does not want to embarrass her cousin, so she quickly adds, 'I hope the news will be good, but Mr Blackwood's message suggests it.'

'I haven't seen those girls at my concerts for a few days now,' Eric observes. 'They weren't that interested in me anymore, I guess they grew up and fell in love with a more deserving man. But they sure were faithful fans while it lasted.'

It's his hurt expression that makes his remark hilarious, and they all laugh, Anne as well, and then she changes the subject with a question of her own.

'Speaking of dresses, Georgiana, have you already chosen one for the wedding?'

She certainly has, Miss Filliger is making one of Simon's 'not actually wearable in normal life' stack for her, of sky-blue silk.

'It's nearly done, Anne, and it's so elaborate I'm going to need some extra courage to dare wear it. It seemed like such a good idea, wear a real stunner of a gown then tell Mr Goodfellow, who is invited as Eric's friend of course, that it is not imported from France but made in a tiny shop in a large shopping centre in Cheapside. Everybody goes bonkers, and we go to Pemberley for a few months of well-deserved rest.'

'I'm sure you will survive the experience, Georgiana, you're used to being watched and judged by now. Are you planning a honeymoon?'

'Pemberley will be our honeymoon as much as it was Elizabeth's and Fitzwilliam's. We're saving our money to buy a new piano, I've fallen in love with one and I want to take it with me. Not just to Pemberley, but wherever we go. Even if we reach Vienna. But it's made of mahogany so I suspect it will be dreadfully expensive.'

'Are you really going to Vienna?'

'Sure,' Georgiana replies, 'if we get the chance. It will cost a fortune, even without the piano.'

Eric doesn't seem so sure anymore, the more likely it becomes they will be received well by one of Mr Clementi's many contacts, the less enthusiastic her beloved seems to become. Frederick has noticed, too.

'What's wrong, Eric? I thought it was your dream to go to Vienna?'

Her beloved's handsome face clearly shows his hesitation and he slowly explains, framing his words carefully.

'It was, Frederick. But that was before I met the love of my life and she turned out to be just sixteen, and as talented as myself. Crossing the channel and travelling long distances is extremely tiring both physically and mentally.'

Now he looks straight at Georgiana and adds, 'After seeing Mrs Collins I'm very afraid to find you in the same condition, my love, somewhere in the middle of Germany, or worse, in the Alps. It's enough to give me nightmares.'

Georgiana can see he is deadly serious, he's so sweet and concerned she just cannot be angry or upset, though she doesn't worry about it herself. There will be excellent midwives in Vienna as well as in London, and Eric's German is just perfect. She sits on his lap and puts an arm on his shoulder, and he rests his head on her chest.

'Babies announce themselves clearly, my love. It will be very easy to make sure we are near a good midwife and even a good doctor, we'll have months to prepare. Women give birth all the time, you know, it needn't be as bad as you imagine.'

She is not going to let fear rule her life. As soon as they are married they will love each other, and if getting with child is the consequence, so be it. The Gardiners have four children, but it has never withheld them from living their lives as pleases them.

'Georgiana, Eric,' Anne now offers, very much embarrassed to speak up. 'There are ways to prevent that, you know. Most people don't talk about it, but it can be done.'

She seems to suddenly realise how incongruous that sounds from her, blushes beet red and shuts up.

But that is too much for Eric, who blurts out, 'Please, Anne, I don't even want to know how and where you learned it, but we do need to know about those things, Georgiana and I. I don't mind having children, I love children, but not while we're travelling, it's just too dangerous.'

Anne relents, and still blushing furiously she tells them of ways to prevent conception and where to get them. It's impossible not to be curious who told her, and most importantly, why, but it's clear Eric will stick to his promise not to ask. In fact, he will probably not even speculate, he is so obviously relieved to know he will be able to give Georgiana what she insists on getting once they are married, and still greatly reduce the risk of finding her with child before they are safely settled. When Anne is done, she obviously feels very embarrassed about her slip of the tongue, but Eric takes her hand across the table and urges, 'Please don't feel bad about this, Anne, you've made me a very relieved and happy man. More young couples should know, it will make building up a future together so much easier. Thank you.'

And again, Frederick proves he is truly a people's person, and a lot closer to Anne than Georgiana imagined possible, for he observes without a single sign of embarrassment, as if he is discussing an article in the papers, 'Maybe you should tell Elizabeth, too, Anne. I've seen her look at Mrs Collins in horror and both her sisters are already with child. I suppose some families are very prolific, but take it from me that too many children are a very bad idea in a landowner's family; it breeds inequality and discontent.'

Well, cousin Fitzwilliam certainly has suffered from being a second son, and Georgiana cannot imagine Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth wanting more than two or three children.

'Since we're being rather forthright anyway,' Eric now starts, 'there is something on my mind that I haven't even dared tell my beloved yet. May I tell you now, and find out your opinion as well as hers?'

Whatever can Eric be troubling himself about that he cannot discuss with her? Georgiana can't think of a single thing, unless it is leaving her behind when he goes to Vienna. The others nod their assent, Anne undoubtedly glad to have the conversation turn to a different subject.

'I wonder whether we should invite Mr Zumpe to our wedding, my love. He and Mrs Zumpe were like parents to me, it was very painful for me to have fallen out, as it obviously was for them. It seems he has accepted the situation as it is now, and I'm sure Mrs Zumpe never lost faith in me. I'd like them to be there.'

'Then by all means let's invite them, my love!' Georgiana says, and straight from the heart. Mr Zumpe touched her greatly when they visited him, he seemed so very sorry for what had happened, and his wife apparently never had anything to do with the situation between her husband and the man she raised as a son.

'Shouldn't we ask your brother first? Mr Zumpe was not very respectful towards him, he may still hold it against my former patron. I won't invite him without Darcy's consent, but I wanted your opinion first on whether to even consider inviting him.'

'If you want them there, invite them. It's the most important day in your life, Eric.'

Frederick is clear enough. Anne adds, 'But if you feel better with Darcy's consent, I'd wait for him to return before you ask. A few days won't make a difference.'

Georgiana is sure Fitzwilliam won't mind, it's their wedding and they can have whoever pleases them. But she can imagine Eric feeling uncomfortable inviting such a character without consulting the man who is letting him wed his sister and who is paying for the wedding. Anne is right, if it makes Eric feel better, he'd better ask first.

'I'm sure Fitzwilliam won't mind, Eric, but you can ask him first. I'm sure Mr Zumpe will be pleased, he seems to have accepted reality.'

Darcy himself is not exactly thinking of weddings at that very moment. After another pleasant day of rambling and roving, and a night at the Theatre Royale with Mr and Mrs Kemble and all their friends, they have taken leave of their landlady and are now ready to take leave of Lydia as well. She is waiting for them outside, and blast if that isn't Wickham standing there beside her, Darcy wasn't expecting his brother-in-law to be there since he must be rather busy with his new position in the rifles.

Frankly, Elizabeth doesn't seem too pleased to see him either, and she takes care to let her husband hand her out of the carriage, not offering Wickham a glimmer of a chance to steal in. She does hug him familiarly, he is her brother after all, and kisses him goodbye. Then she embraces her sister with feeling.

'I'm sorry to leave you already, Lydia, but I'm very glad you have such good friends here. Will you keep us informed on how you are all doing?'

'Of course, Lizzy, thank you so much for being nice and buying all those beautiful things for me. And for taking me to Mr Blaze, I feel so much better now.'

Then Darcy can no longer listen in on his wife and her sister, for Wickham has approached him and says with some feeling, 'Thank you for what you did for me, Darcy, I know it was a lot, especially after what happened between us. It's exactly as I hoped, the Rifle Corps, and it seems we will be moving south towards Kent after our first six months of drill here. I'm glad, it's better for Lydia to be close to her family, we're certainly going to be deployed as soon as we're ready. We're needed. Though I don't think I'll tell her just yet, she's only just starting to get over her loss. I suppose I'm finally starting to get the feeling I belong somewhere, in the army, in the family. I know you're not pleased to see me, but I don't know whether I'll ever get to see any of you again, and I thought I'd like to thank you and say goodbye to your wife just in case. You're a lucky fellow, Darcy, but I suppose you know that.'

Darcy still has very little to say to Wickham, he merely pretends he is riding his sensitive black horse to stop himself from feeling jealous or irritated. And it seems to work, he even manages to formulate a few words.

'Good luck, George. Digging up memories with Anne I remembered we used to be good friends. I suppose I've been trying to honour those memories.'

And that will have to do, Wickham will get no more from him. But he is actually a bit affected, he looks as if he wants to ask after Anne, but seeing Darcy's face he merely bows and mumbles, 'Thank you.'

Then Darcy embraces his noisy sister-in-law, now a lot less obnoxious. Although? She clings to his neck and admonished him, 'Now you make sure you give my sister a baby soon, Mr Darcy. I want a nephew or niece as soon as possible, and Lizzy is ever so much older than I am.'

Wickham looks resigned at first, then throws Darcy a significant look, as if he wants to say, 'See, you won.'

And Darcy did, he is very much aware of that, enabling him to reply kindly, 'I will do my very best, Lydia. You take it easy and trust your friends and Mr Blaze. Will you give Abbey my regards?'

'I will, Mr Darcy. I'll miss both of you very much. Oh, I wish you could stay here for much longer! Give my love to Jane and Kitty and your sister, too, Mr Darcy.'

They kiss, and Lydia releases him.

Elizabeth is talking to Wickham now, he has his eyes cast down, something happened between those two and his beloved came out first. He's not even trying to call her by her Christian name anymore, it's Mrs Darcy for and after. No jealousy flares up in Darcy, though Wickham still obviously admires Elizabeth. Somehow it doesn't matter anymore, Wickham has finally accepted his loss, as if he ever had a chance at her, and now they will all move on.

Elizabeth actually ruffles Wickham's hair, as if he is a boy, then kisses her sister one last time and moves towards the carriage. Following her closely, Darcy hands his beloved into the carriage and signals Bob it's time to leave.

If Anne still feels shame over her slip of the tongue this morning, Frederick can't see it. They've talked it over by themselves, in Simon's cosy room in the servants' quarters, somehow Anne trusts Simon unconditionally, not that she has reserves towards himself, it's just that Simon seems to draw her out merely by his presence. It's almost enough to make a man jealous. Of Anne. Though the outside world knows nothing of their involvement, Frederick worships Simon and would prefer to keep him to himself for always.

Why marry, then? Why not move to a quiet place and be together all the time? It can be done, Frederick is sure. But he knows they would both go mad within weeks without company and liveliness. And hinting at getting married got him so much general approval, it has shown Frederick that his friends at least have been expecting him to make a match for some time now. A man of good fortune and acceptable looks has to get married, or suspicion will be his part forever.

Simon really approved of Nick telling Anne everything he knew about making love safely.

'I think it's so sweet, to face losing someone you love and still do your utmost to prepare her for the world outside. I can't wait to get to know him even better. So Miss Sophie Blackwood said he hadn't received any ladies since you left? That is amazing, Anne, he must really love you a lot. Usually his kind try to deny it first, increasing their conquests to prove themselves they still can. Until they find out loose contacts just don't do it for them anymore. Nick is a smart man. Do you want to see him alone?'

'I don't think that can be done, Simon, he is accompanying Mr Blackwood. But I'll be very glad to just look at him for an hour, maybe sit next to him.'

'We'll want to get Mr Blackwood to think the two of you good friends, Simon, to give Nick an excuse to visit.'

'I can't do anything, Frederick, I'm stuck behind the scenes. It's up to you, or Anne. Or maybe not, I'll make sure to serve the coffee, if that helps at all. But Anne, should you be able to steal away, be very careful of Johnson, he's still not above suspicion as a spy in our household. Better let Nick know, too, as soon as possible. Imagine the headlines if Johnson catches you two kissing. Welcome to our world, Anne, it's not that bad, but you have to be careful.'

Anne is in a flutter and she knows that is dangerous. Just this morning she let something slip that she shouldn't have, or at least should have given more thought before divulging, since it must have raised the question where she gained such knowledge. Besides being incredibly awkward. Of course Eric was so relieved to know that it was worth the embarrassment eventually, but she needs to realise it's that easy to give herself and Nick away. Or Frederick and Simon, which would be infinitely worse.

Trying to control her excitement she imagines what Mr Blackwood is coming to tell her. The trial was a success and Wellesley will hang. That's not a good thing, for it will make Nick very unhappy. Good, that sobers her mood instantly, and she can at least eat her lunch and pretend to be a normal person. Mr Blackwood must not see her making eyes at Nick, of course he'd mostly be very proud of Nick, but that is not the point: no-one must know, if only to protect Frederick. If she cannot see the challenge in keeping a secret, she cannot marry Frederick for the world and live with Nick for herself. Silence is golden and her duty to those she has come to love.

And when Nick enters the drawing-room in the company of his master she can see he has similar problems. A broad, infatuated smile is trying to form on his beloved face constantly, he has to keep wiping it off, even though Mr Blackwood soon gives his news and it isn't what would please Nick at all.

'Well, Miss de Bourgh, your testimony and especially your maid's really helped our case; Wellesley was found guilty and sentenced to hang for attempted premeditated murder. I've already appealed to have his sentence reduced, since Nick practically begged me not to let someone die for him.'

Mr Blackwood has settled in a comfortable chair, but Nick is looking rather forlorn now, he is not used to sitting down in company and has no clue whether he is allowed to. Anne feels his sad expression pulling on her heartstrings, he must feel very bad about Wellesley being convicted, and she cannot help catching his eye and inviting him to sit next to her on a sofa. The broad smile is back instantly, tugging on the corners of his mouth, making him forget his tormentor's fate.

'Mr Blackwood told me they gave you quite a hard time over me?' Nick asks, serious once more. 'Asked all kinds of impertinent questions?'

Well, she can't deny that, the barrister did.

'They did, yes, it was rather embarrassing. But it was to gain insight in your attacker's motive, wasn't it?'

'I'm sorry if you were put to inconvenience for me, Miss de Bourgh. You are right, though, I really needed to know why he did it, it's not a little thing when someone tries to beat you to death. I almost thought I had done something to deserve it. Then when he was heard he did say he hated me for being a favourite with everyone without having to work for it. He could not accept ladies wanting me and not him, even the maids spurned him and encouraged me. Then when even you, a true lady and miles above me as he said, were nice to me, protected me from his anger and from the master, he started to plan my downfall. He admitted to losing his control, to it being due to the girls' interruption that he did not kill me. Why, Miss? Why did he hate me so, and why did he admit it? Had he told the jury he planned to hurt me a little then leave me be they would have believed him and spared him.'

The smile is gone and Nick is truly upset, what can she do? She wants to hold him and comfort him but she shouldn't with Mr Blackwood present. But she has forgotten that gentleman's strange morals, for he says softly, 'He has been feeling so guilty, Miss de Bourgh, I am at my wits' end. Nothing I can say will convince him this had to be done and it was none of his fault. I hoped you might be able to calm him down a little, you were so good to him when he was hurt, when you left the heart just went out of him. Come Nick, you smiled when you came in, please take heart, I'll make sure they don't execute him. Mr Manners, can't you reason with him?'

Anne doesn't even dare touch Nick, for she knows one of them will break and they will be clutched together and kissing passionately. But Frederick gestures at her, he thinks it's all right to give Nick some attention. Apparently it's why Mr Blackwood decided to visit. So she dares to sit right next to Nick and put an arm around him. Her touch causes him to shudder and he settles against her shamelessly. Checking out Mr Blackwood, Anne can see he is pleased more than anything, is he onto them or is he just very naïve? Or maybe he doesn't care about propriety at all. If he doesn't care, she doesn't either, and she relishes holding the man she loves, until he looks up at her and smiles sweetly. He isn't feeling that bad at all, this is all mostly a ruse to get Anne to hold him.

Suppressing an impulse to let go of him to show him she will not be manipulated, she decides that will give him away to Mr Blackwood so she doesn't, but she does pinch him to let him know she is not amused. His smile changes to a pout, and he sits back up and says humbly, 'I'm sorry, Miss de Bourgh, I don't want to be a nuisance.'

He is so cute when he does that, now she wants to kiss him even more! But she has to prove herself to Frederick, she can pretend nothing is going on between them as well as he does with Simon, and Nick will learn.

'It's all right, Nick, we all have our moments of weakness. And you were in a very bad way, I do remember.'

'I've heard most convicts are in fact never hanged, Nick, only pirates and murderers. I suppose your attacker will be pardoned and either sent to a colony or released. If he is, aren't you afraid to meet him again on a dark night?'

'I hope I do, Mr Manners, I hope I do. Then I'll pay him back part of what he gave me, striving to control myself to not risk being hanged. I could have thrashed him, I held back too long for fear of being dismissed. You're good sir, no-one can feel sorry for himself with you around, I suspect. Thank you.'

And that's the court case. With Nick by her side, Anne hears Mr Blackwood's praise of Colonel Compton, such a polite and kind man. Apparently he has called on Sophie already, and listened to her playing Italian songs on the piano. Angelina is still seeing her ensign, but she has assured her father she is merely enjoying herself, and not to count on her marrying him. They're still looking for another kind of entertainment, now their admiration for Mr Fielding has waned a little.

'Will you join them when they find something new, Miss de Bourgh? If Mr Manners doesn't mind, that is?'

Frederick almost chokes, and Anne too, but not with laughter. As if Frederick can tell her what to do!

'I don't have a right to tell Miss de Bourgh what to do, Mr Blackwood,' he chortles, 'and will most certainly refrain from having an opinion on what she should not do. Miss Anne is an independent woman, and she decides for herself.'

'But, but...I thought you were engaged?'

'Unfortunately, Miss de Bourgh is keeping me in suspense, Mr Blackwood. If we were engaged I don't doubt it would be all over the papers. But even if I were to convince Miss Anne to accept my hand and my heart, I'd still not presume to tell her what to do. She has as much right to be free as I have. If she wants to join her friends in an outing, I'm sure she will be perfectly safe in the hands of Fowler and his colleagues.'

Simon has come in with the coffee, and Nick gets up and hands him a box which he was carrying when he came in and placed on the table before sitting down. He says something to Simon that Anne cannot understand, and Mr Blackwood asks, 'Is that your friend, Nick?'

Nick bows in acknowledgement and replies gladly, 'Yes, sir, this is Simon. He's Mr Darcy's valet and you're also housekeeper, aren't you, Simon?'

Simon bows for Mr Blackwood and replies, 'I keep house together with Mrs Annesley, yes. Pleased to meet you, Mr Blackwood.'

'And you, Simon. Nick has mentioned the two of you taking a liking to each other last time you met, and I've told him, if you want to go chase the ladies together sometimes, I'll make arrangements to have him dropped off here after my daughters' evening's entertainment. If he can stay overnight, that is. Of course you're welcome to come over to our place, if you can afford transport.'

Has anyone ever heard of a gentleman indulging his servant that way? Anne cannot imagine Darcy letting Simon go out all night to entertain himself. As Simon serves the coffee, Nick opens the box and starts sharing out slices of pie on plates Simon has taken from the buffet. Anne recognises it when Nick hands her a piece, it's the pie from the Old Rookery!

When they have finished their coffee and their fabulous treat, Anne thanks Mr Blackwood heartily for remembering. The gentleman smiles indulgently and observes, 'My pleasure, Miss de Bourgh, but it was Nick who came up with the idea when I asked him how we could thank you for your kind appearance at the courthouse. We've brought some for your maid as well, to share with the rest of the staff. I think Nick would like to bring it over in person, if you don't mind?'

Though Anne does mind, there is nothing she can do to keep Nick from leaving the room.

'I don't think Dora has ever had such a treat, she will be so pleased. Of course it's fine if Nick takes it out back himself. You know the way, don't you, Nick?'

'I do, Miss de Bourgh, and I'm glad you liked the pie. Do you want me to bring it now, sir?' Nick asks his master.

'That will be fine, my boy, and you need not hurry back. I'll be perfectly fine with Miss de Bourgh and Mr Manners.'

Is he leaving her just like that? She was looking forward to at least being able to watch him for the duration of the visit. That'll teach her to get so excited about something, it always turns out a disappointment.

'Remember our last conversation, Mr Blackwood?' Frederick now offers.

'I certainly do,' the kind man replies, 'you seem to have an extraordinary grasp of business for a landed gentleman, Mr Manners.'

'Thank you, Mr Blackwood,' Frederick replies. 'I'd like to continue that discussion, for I'm thinking of investing in your line of produce, but of course among my peers it's frowned upon to have one's own company. I thought maybe we could reach a mutually satisfying arrangement, Mr Blackwood. But that is no talk for a young lady, we do not want to bore Miss de Bourgh to death.'

Mr Blackwood really wants the connection to Mr Manners, that is obvious, and though Anne wonders whether Frederick really wants to do business with their guest, she also recognises the opportunity he is offering her.

'Don't mind me, gentlemen,' Anne offers. 'I've a mind for some music, and I think Mr Fielding and Miss Darcy are practising upstairs. Will you send for me before you leave, Mr Blackwood? I'd like to send my regards to Angelina and Sophie.'

'That is no problem at all, my dear child. I'll send Nick over to fetch you when he returns.'

Dear Frederick, to keep the old man busy so Anne can have an hour with Nick. Now to find him without alerting Johnson. But of course Nick and Simon are both adepts at this game. Anne hasn't even left the room altogether before running into Simon, who takes her to his own room, saying, 'I've work to do in the little study, I can spare you my room for the short time Nick can stay. It'll be easier if he can really come over in the evenings, for most of the staff will be out of the house at that time of the day. You wait here, I'll send him over. Be very careful leaving, let Nick go first to check out the hall. You shouldn't really be here, but Frederick has already confused the boundaries between front and back of the house, you've been seen here with him on plenty of occasions. Enjoy.'

And he kisses her on her forehead, as if giving her his blessing. He's about Anne's age, but somehow Simon seems so much more experienced with life.

Simon's room is really cosy, much larger than Nick's room, of course he's the resident housekeeper now, it's his duty to receive everyone coming to the house, front and back, whenever Johnson and Mrs Annesley are out, and he is in charge of a lot of the household's finances. Simon will certainly be missed when he leaves for the continent with Frederick, and not just because he does his work well. He also makes the house a safe and pleasant place to work for the rest of the staff, Dora is really fond of him. As Anne admires the way in which Simon has made his room comfortable and stylish without spending a fortune on fabrics and ornaments, she can hear the door open. She turns around and feels her heart skip a beat at the sight of the man who has been in her dreams for weeks now. Nick is almost shy now they're together once more, as if he cannot believe this is really happening.

'Miss,' he manages to say, the slick ladies' man speechless for once.

'It's Anne, Nick. I'm not your mistress.' And she offers him her hands. He takes both, and kisses them one by one, his voice back to normal by now.

'But I am your slave, Anne, you are so beautiful and I've missed you so much. I just couldn't believe it when you said you'd rather have me than a gentleman. Did Frederick set this up?'

'Actually, I think he just took advantage of your master letting you leave the room. I bet Mr Blackwood expects you to be having some fun with Dora.'

That surprises Nick, but he nods. 'You are right, of course. You're so beautiful, and so smart. How can it be that you say you love me? I'm nobody.'

Well, Anne is not that special either, she still isn't used to people calling her beautiful, though of course she can see the change in her looks in the mirror.

'You're just so nice, Nick. Like Frederick, he's the same, always friendly, always prepared to be kind or helpful. Though I lust for your body, too.'

That breaks some kind of spell, and they grab for each other and are soon kissing and groping with heat, no longer wondering about anything but relishing the moment. Buttons are undone, and garments are flying, and soon they are lying on the bed stark naked, stroking and kissing and tasting.

'We can't...you know, I didn't expect this so I didn't come prepared.'

That's too bad, but there must be plenty of other things they can do, and of course they find one suited to their mood of excited passion. Nick is very experienced and is soon making her pant and groan by lying between her legs and licking her most intimately. He has turned around to reach her, which makes it very easy to reciprocate, causing him to groan as well. It's very intimate and very good to be connected this way, and of course very exciting as well. It doesn't take long for her to reach a shuddering climax, and soon after that Nick signals her to let go of his manhood, just in time to spill his seed in her hand. It's a bit awkward to get rid of it in someone else's room, but fortunately Simon has the luxury of his own washstand, and Anne rinses off the sticky mess while Nick pours the water from the ewer. Their wild passion satisfied, they lie back on the bed for some serious snuggling and stroking, Anne almost ready to cry for joy at the feel of Nick's loving little kisses all over her face and throat.

She strokes his face, the bruises almost faded and the cuts healed, but still pink in colour. They'll always be there, reminding Anne of a very special night, though to Nick they'll probably signify pain and shock. Then she looks at his chest, it's as broad and muscular as ever, but she never did see any evidence of the broken ribs below it. Caressing it lightly she asks, ''How are your ribs, Nick? Do they still bother you?'

'A tiny bit, yes. But they are improving rapidly, I think they'll stop hurting pretty soon now. Remarkable, isn't it? I'll bear the scars of those cuts forever, but they didn't cause me half as much pain as those ribs. And the pain of them was nothing compared to the pain of being separated from you.'

'So what happened, Nick? I thought you didn't fall in love? I was ready to share you with anyone you liked, I had fallen in love with you against your warnings, against my better judgement. And now I hear you haven't had a lady over since I left?'

Oh, the look of adulation in those brown eyes, Anne fears to melt.

'I plead guilty, Miss de Bourgh,' he breathes in her ear, 'please do not punish me too harshly for lying to you. I didn't know myself, I expected life to just go on without you but it didn't. Those ladies had to leave without getting their due, one even bothered Mr Blackwood in his office, crying, complaining I'd broken her heart. I had to confess having fallen in love to him, Anne, he blamed my lowness and absence of mind on my brain having been damaged, I couldn't have my reputation ruined. I didn't know you still wanted me and besides, you can't marry a servant. I needed to secure my ability to make a living.'

'But you didn't tell him it was me you'd fallen for, did you?'

'Of course not, my love, he adores you, he'd have me flogged for my insolence!'

'He can't do that, can he? Have you flogged?'

'No my dear, he can't. He can fire me and withhold references, nothing worse. And don't worry, you've heard him, he considers you as good as engaged to Mr Manners. I suppose he does think it's Dora I'm in love with, which is why he probably sent me off to the back just now.'

'Do you mind, my getting engaged with Frederick?'

He does, she can see it.

'I don't understand why we can have an affair but not just get married. You have enough money to live on, don't you? And I don't mind working for a living.'

'We could marry, but it would mean losing my position in society. We'd have no social life, I'd lose my family, and Rosings, and worst of all Nick, from the moment of our marriage you'd legally own me and all my possessions. I'd deliver myself and my fortune to you to do with as pleased you. You're a philanderer, you said so yourself. I love you, but that is a lot of faith to have in someone who once told me he had no wish to marry, have children, or commit himself to one person. You know my past, I can't risk becoming a prisoner again.'

The brown eyes widen, he did not realise all that.

'I don't want to own you, Anne. But do you want Mr Manners to own you?'

'Marrying him means improving my position in society, being invited everywhere, having a partner in crime with whom to play the society game. I'd love that. Of course he'd own me, too, but he's not interested in that. He wants my name, my connections, and my company, but not my money or my estate, he has plenty of his own. And he needs me as much as I need him: he needs to marry for people are starting to wonder why he is still single. Soon they'll start to talk. Getting married to him would be great fun, though we'd both have to sneak around to find love. But should you find yourself bored with me, you can just leave, and I'd find someone else to love.'

'Can it be done? Keep one's love secret?'

'Frederick has been doing it for a little over three months, and only one person found out.'

She can't help the pride sounding in her voice.

'You. You found out he was seeing someone. She must be a very low woman, Anne, he could easily marry a servant or even a whore, she could never take his fortune from him.'

'But loving a servant would get him thrown out of society, Nick, and Frederick thrives on society. As do we, let's be honest. You love being around people as much as I do. Imagine him and me playing the game in the front of the house, among the rich and noble. And you moving among their servants, hearing the gossip and filtering out the bits of truth from among it, comparing notes with us.'

'Like Simon does for him now, you mean.'

'Tell me you wouldn't love doing that.'

'I can't, because I would love it. I thrive on gossip as much as the two of you.'

'And you would be a servant in name only, there would be no real work for you to do. And no more humility towards a master, and you'd get your share of the luxuries.'

'You make a very strong case, dear Anne. Have you made your decision already, then?'

'I have not, Nick. I thought I was going to try to forget you first, remember? Frederick kept telling me you loved me and all would be well, but I didn't believe him. Philanderers generally do not change their habits. My mother often complained about her younger sister's husband, who couldn't stop chasing the ladies. Simon advised me to take my time deciding. That seemed like a very sensible thing to do, I guess I'm still doing it.'

'You seem to know him well, Anne, and he is such a likeable man. Handsome, too. I think I'm jealous. I still cannot believe you really love me, when so many much more deserving men are vying for your attention. What if you're just feeling sorry for me?'

He is cute when he is like this, and she probably did fall in love with him because he had been so incredibly sweet when he was in pain. But does it matter? She cannot seem to forget him. Besides, he can't really be shy, he just told her how one of his ladies went to Mr Blackwood to complain that he had broken her heart, and he once warned Anne not to expect anything. He is used to women falling for him, she is sure.

'Don't talk nonsense, Nick. Ladies like you, you knew I'd fall for you. I admit having you in my arms bleeding and hurting made it unavoidable, but I think I would have fallen for you anyway, though I might have gotten over you quite soon if you had remained bossy.'

'Mr Manners is very bossy, Anne.'

'I know, but not to me. I think that's what I like about him. And about you. And there is no need to be jealous of Simon, he sees me as a kind of sister, like you do Sophie. We're of an age, I know, but to him I must seem a debutante, I'm so naïve. Smart, but naïve.'

They kiss and cuddle a lot more, Anne relishing the solid muscle of him, and the feel of his strong hands on her soft, creamy skin. When the clock shows them an hour has almost passed, they wash and dress and again, Nick carefully checks her for signs of mussing and advises her to redo her hair. This time, she checks him as well, but his livery is so practical it always looks tidy. Pushing a stray lock of hair out of his face, she can't help kissing him again, but then it's really time to go back to the drawing-room. Nick goes first, and after five whole minutes Anne follows. Fortunately she meets no-one, and when she enters the drawing-room she is received well, especially by Mr Blackwood.

'Miss de Bourgh, I'm sorry we haven't spoken much, but I truly hope you'll visit us soon. We'll have Nick plan all of you the most spectacular outing so far, then you'll come, won't you? You can bring Mr Manners along, if he doesn't trust Nick to guard you well.'

Anne smiles prettily and assures him she'll join them in any amusement Nick plans for them. Then their guests leave and Anne is in a state of utter joy. Two strong arms gather her towards a broad chest, and Frederick observes, 'So you had a good time. I'm glad. I did some business with your man's surrogate father, he is a shrewd negotiator, he'll make me a fortune. Did you two do any talking at all?'

'Surprisingly, yes. But only after we shamed ourselves thoroughly. Thank you so much for giving me the chance to be with him, Frederick.'

'Did he mention our forthcoming engagement?'

'I asked him. He didn't understand, thought we might as well marry since I've my own money. I explained, and he wasn't insulted to hear I didn't altogether trust a reputed philanderer to own both myself and my fortune. And he liked the idea of playing the game together, very much. He has no clue why you don't just marry your sweetheart, he thinks she must be a harlot or worse. We are going to take our time deciding, I told him Simon advised me to do that and he said he was jealous of our bond. I told him Simon sees me as his sister, like Nick does Sophie. That's it. We sinned terribly, but I don't feel bad. I feel fabulous.'

'Was he playing Mr Blackwood earlier to get close to you? For such a shrewd trader that good man seems rather gullible towards those he loves.'

'Nick was playing him, yes. And I suppose it seems as if his master is too nice towards those who depend on him, but I've heard him bluntly tell his daughters he'd marry them off to someone he considers a good connection for himself if they're still single when they turn twenty-one. I think he sees more than Nick gives him credit for. I'd be careful if I was Nick. Mr Blackwood is the person in charge, and he will make the final decision. Nick did hint his master would have him flogged if he knew he was sleeping with me, so maybe he is a little less complacent than we think.'

'You know he can't hurt his servants, don't you?'

'Yes, Nick told me. But I constantly forget how bad it is what we're doing. I don't seem to care anymore, I don't want to deliver myself to some man I hardly know, but I do want to be loved.'

What can Frederick do but shrug?

'I sympathise, Anne. As a gentleman I hold all the cards, but still I'm not free. I've had to let go of the concept of sin or I'd have gone barking mad. Once you're married you'll just be committing adultery, that's much less sinful.'

And since laughing seems the only thing Anne can do about it, that is what she does.


	104. Chapter 104

Chapter 114

Having been with Nick again just a few days ago, and in private, has really heartened Anne immeasurably, and she can use some heartening for it has been exactly one month since her last monthly bleeding. Dora has assured Anne she has seen to the necessary supplies, but Anne is not so sure about doctor Parker's pills, they'll undoubtedly keep her from real suffering, but what else will they do?

'Do you think I should tell the housekeeper, Dora? Warn her I will be indisposed for several days?'

'Why no, Miss! You're so much better now, there may be no need. You may not suffer so badly anymore, many things have changed.'

That is certainly true, Anne has been stuck in her deplorable situation for years, even this may have changed with her improved physical condition.

'All right, let's see what happens then. Plan for the worst and hope for the best. You can always explain to the good lady if things get bad.'

'I'll be there for you, Miss, you know that. But let's hope for the best, I like seeing you so lively and happy.'

Alas, Dora's hope proves in vain; exactly when Anne expects it the first signs of her monthly affliction announce another ordeal. Profuse bleeding and moderately painful cramps have Anne unwilling to leave her own room, and she knows the pain will get worse. Unable to eat, she sends Dora to excuse her for dinner, she doesn't feel like eating at all and merely hopes things will not get much worse. But of course they do, and within half an hour she is writhing in agony as she hasn't been for years, mother's doctor may have nearly killed her with his bloodlettings, his powders did work. Sitting, lying down, walking about, nothing gives relief, Anne knows these cramps will go on for two days at least, and all this time she will have to stay alert to change her rags in time to prevent a bloody mess. All her optimism of the last week drains away, and soon Anne is lost in tears, but not so far as to not feel the pain anymore. Muffling her sobs in her pillow, Anne feels as forlorn as she ever has. Dora knows not to bother her mistress in this state, Anne has always resisted a hired help comforting her as the ultimate humiliation, so now the gentle maid merely checks on her every hour to see whether she is still reasonably all right and bearing up.

There is no-one to comfort her, she wouldn't even want Nick to see her this way, it's so demeaning to be biting one's pillow in agony. Though a friendly touch of a sister or mother might have helped a tiny bit. Anne wouldn't know, she has never known real, selfless love from anyone after her father died, and doesn't remember having been ill before that happened. Dora comes in to check on her pile of rags, finds her mistress even worse than she feared and dares comment, 'Didn't you get pills from that new doctor, Miss? Please let me fetch a cup of water to take one, I cannot bear to see you like this for two days! Mrs Annesley is very worried about you, Miss.'

'I don't dare take those pills, Dora. I think they're opium based, and I'm afraid to start doing or seeing disturbing things. Maybe you can find a powder like I used to have at Rosings.'

'I will try, Miss, right away.'

And the poor girl flees.

Anne cannot care, she is in so much pain, all she can think of is to curl up and hope to faint, but of course she is not given that release. Her slight but stronger body is still racked with pain, it's as if she is better able to generate pain because she is stronger, but she knows that isn't true, it's the powder she used to take, that took at least the edge off the pain.

Tossing and turning on the bed she loses all consciousness of the world around her, she becomes pain, until strong hands lift her upright and she is offered a sip of water from a cup, which she accepts gratefully. Then she feels a hand putting a pill in her mouth, and offering more water. It's Frederick, and he is insistent! Anne doesn't want the pill, she struggles and tries to get rid of it, spits it out.

The hand catches it, so many hands the man has! Holding her, holding the pill, holding a cup. Through a haze of pain she realises Simon is holding her upright, as Frederick is talking to her gently but with some urgency.

'Please take the pill, Anne, doctor Parker would never give you something that will harm you. You cannot keep suffering this way, it's not acceptable. Please take it.'

'I can't. I'm quite sure there's opium in that pill, and Nick took those. They made him submissive and he lost a lot of self control, I can't have that happen, not here, not among strangers. I wouldn't even have done that at Rosings.'

Now Simon speaks up, pleading.

'Dear Anne, you can trust us, you know that. You don't need to fear losing face towards us, we're your friends. We'll keep you out of trouble and safe, just take the pill, I can't bear to see someone so vibrant in such a state. Please?'

'Please, Anne, do. We'll stay with you, Dora will not see you should you act out.'

The pain is not diminishing, though the feeling of loneliness is. No-one ever tried to comfort her before, maybe she can take the pill.

'All right, I'll take it then,' she says, and swallows the offered pill with a sip of water, and another sip to wash away the taste, though it doesn't taste all that bad.

'Thank you for letting us help you, Anne, now you can let go, we're here to take care of you.'

And she does. Before she can believe it possible the pain drains away from her belly and a wonderful feeling of lightness starts to fill her entire being. It's as if she is floating, and only those strong hands are connecting her to the earth.

'Is that better, Anne?' a very concerned voice asks.

They are so sweet, Frederick is much more tender hearted than he pretends to be, and Simon may be even sweeter. They will keep her from floating away, Anne wants to stay in London forever with them, and Nick.

'The pain is gone, Simon, but you need to hold me really tightly for I'm drifting away.'

'Do you mean drifting off, Anne? You can go to sleep if you want to.'

'No Frederick, I'm not sleepy at all. I'm floating, and if you don't keep a firm hold on me I'm going to fly out of the window. I do not want to go back to Rosings, maman will shackle me to the bed and bathe in my blood every week to stay young forever.'

Suddenly she is very afraid to lose all that blood and die, she hasn't had a chance to live, yet.

'Don't let her get me, please? She wants my blood!'

Strong arms now pick her up altogether, pressing her against a broad chest, cradling her like a lost baby. The floating feeling fades, she cannot fly off like this, she will stay in her beloved's arms forever.

'I'm so glad you came to rescue me, Nick, I love you so much. Will you kiss me again?'

An amused voice rumbles, 'I'm sure Nick will visit and hold you and kiss you, my dear, as soon as he hears you're not feeling very well. But for now you'll have to make do with this.'

And she feels a very chaste kiss on her cheek, so cute, of course he's not Nick, he feels the same but his scent is still different. Nick's a servant, he doesn't smell like a gentleman as Frederick does.

'Do you smell like a gentleman or a servant, Simon?' she asks the man sitting really close to Frederick. They're making good use of their time here.

'What do you think, Frederick? You know best.' Simon sounds amused.

'I think you smell like a prince, Simon, and you look like one, too.'

'It's that cologne you gave me for Christmas, Frederick, it fools even the best.'

'I guess that answers your question, Anne, why do you ask?'

'Well, Frederick, you feel just like Nick, but you smell different. I thought that might be the difference between a gentleman and, you know, a normal man.'

'And I suppose you prefer your normal man? And want him to come and hold you?'

'I do prefer him, but I don't want him to see me this way, it's demeaning.'

'Why? You're not drunk and you didn't stuff yourself sick, did you? In what lies the shame?'

Suddenly Anne feels really tired, she can hardly keep her eyes open.

'It's the bleeding, it's disgusting and it keeps coming. I have to change the rags now, and then I'd like to sleep a little, I'm tired. Thank you so much for being here, and not minding my ramblings.'

'One of us will pick up a book and stay with you, Anne, you're not alone in this.'

Ten minutes later she has crawled back in bed, and right beside her she can see Simon reading by the light of a candle.

'Frederick's at the concert with your cousin the colonel and Mr Bingley and his wife. You go to sleep, and I'll watch over you.

She is lying on a bed but it's a hard bed, not very comfortable, and her back aches. Trying to turn around she finds herself unable to stir, she's not restrained, just very, very weak. Her neck hurts and she can't touch it, her arm won't move.

A light is approaching, finally, someone to help, she's been lying here unattended for hours, and she can't do anything at all.

'Now, Miss de Bourgh,' a well-know voice drawls, making her shiver with fear. 'This is taking far too long, we haven't got all day, you know. Half an hour is plenty for the likes of Catherine, she just lies there and lets me do all the work. But I'm going to speed it up a little, I've other things to do, you know, can't fill up a bath a cup at a time.'

And her mother's doctor comes towards her with a gleeful expression, one hand stretched towards her, the other...holding a large butcher's cleaver.

Anne cannot do anything but scream.

Again she finds herself held like a baby in those strong arms, against a broad chest. And even gibbering with fear, heaving for breath, she notices this one does smell right. Nick! She grabs hold of his waist, clutches herself against him, trying to push her face closer against his chest to find relief from fear.

'Anne, my lovely, you're safe now, it's me, I'll protect you, you know me, don't you?'

One hand strokes her gently, he kisses her with overwhelming love and tenderness, and Anne slowly relaxes under his soothing touch, his face against hers, mumbling sweet nonsense in her ear. Fear receding, reality comes back, the reason why she is in her bed suffering delusions. A slight cramp confirms her memory, the wet rags against her thigh alarming her more than a little: she doesn't want Nick to see her like this, dishevelled, sweaty, the shameful torrent of blood going on and on. The loneliness is back instantly and Anne releases Nick, tears overwhelming her.

But he does not let her go, quite the opposite, he clutches her against him even tighter.

'Let me go, Nick, I'm filthy, I don't want you to see me like this.'

She can hear that he is smiling as he replies, 'It's dark, my love, I can't see you.'

But then his voice changes to seriousness.

'Please don't do that to us, Anne, don't send me away. How can I leave you when I love you more than anything? Let me take care of you as you took care of me, don't you see that this is what love is about? Didn't you tell my my manhood looked as if something chewed it up and spit it out? When it was only a bit discoloured? And the world would have shamed you for even looking at it? You didn't leave me then, did you? You cleaned me up and helped me bear the pain. You accepted me as I was. I'll gladly clean you up and wash your rags for you, truly, I love all of you, not just the perfect lady.'

That must be what true love is. There is no way Anne can resist such eloquence, and he is right, she did not hesitate to touch any part of him when he needed her. And since she is not in pain at this moment, and no longer delirious or ashamed of the state she's in, she considers pulling him in beside her, then decides she'd better change those rags first. And he really does come with her and helps her clean up, though they merely dump the rags in the bucket with cold water waiting for them. They are disgusting, but Nick merely watches them in shock.

'So much of your life's blood, Anne, how often, and for how many days?'

'Every few hours, or everything gets drenched, and at least two days. Doctor Parker said there was nothing that could be done, some women just lose that much blood every month.'

'Do you feel weak again? Will you be back to living death by tomorrow?'

'I don't think so, Nick. Doctor Parker told me the bloodlettings took about a quarter of my total amount of blood each month. I'm certain this looks much worse than it is. But it's been years, my love, we'll find out soon enough. Won't you be in trouble when someone finds you missing?'

'I have leave of absence to care for a sick relative. I haven't had leave of absence once during the last three years. Your cousin will probably be riding over a few times until I get back. I'm afraid my time at the Blackwood mansion is nearly up, Anne, Angelina seems serious about her officer after all, my master is very pleased with you for finding husbands for his daughters. But I insist on all of us going to some weird place for a very last inappropriate venture, I want you to come, too.'

'I wouldn't miss it for the world. I can't wait to see where you'll take us.'

Everything cleaned up, Nick takes her in his arms, lying in her bed together.

'I want you to take another one of those pills tonight, Anne. They said you were in agony, I don't want you to wake up screaming again.'

'It was the opium dream that caused me to scream, Nick. It was frightful, I don't dare risk that again. Can't I take a powder?'

'Simon suggested you split the pill in two, have only half. He thinks the dosage was too high for a slight girl like you.'

That is not unreasonable. And the pain is really gone altogether, it's such a relief.

'All right, I will try. Can you stay?'

'I can, Simon snuck me in, no-one knows I'm here. Though I suspect we'll not be able to fool Dora for long, she cares about you, she'll want to know what is going on. Apparently most of the other staff goes home at night, and the stable boy is out all night, chasing after the girls?'

'He's actually the Pemberley stablemaster, taking care of the horses here while his master is away. He usually lives in Derbyshire, where there is little amusement for a bachelor like him, I guess they allow him a little freedom for working beneath his dignity. Or he profits from Darcy being away from home.'

After Anne has taken half a pill they talk and snuggle a little more, but Anne soon starts to become drowsy and just half an hour later she slowly drifts off to sleep, feeling perfectly safe with her strong and faithful lover at her side. Nick does not fall asleep beside his beloved, he knows she may experience disturbing visions again and he wants her to wake up in his arms if she does. But also, he is fast finding out that being in love with someone and having that love answered gives rise to a lot of worries. What if her cousin Mr Darcy finds out and forbids Nick the entrance to his house? What if his beloved Anne starts to realise Nick is actually a very ordinary fellow, poor, of low birth, not even handsome or with a particular talent like Mr Fielding? What if she meets a gentleman she could love? What if he starts to regain his roving eye despite her devastating beauty? And even if they stay smitten, won't someone in the staff notice what is going on? And where will Nick live once Anne gets married, what will he do if she falls in love with Mr Manners anyway?

His mind keeps spinning in circles, and he cannot think of anything he can do to stop it besides concentrating on the warm, soft shape in his arms, listen to her calm breathing, smell her delicious female scent. And doing so his doubts are driven out of his mind by an almost delirious happiness, imagine this woman being in love with him, of all the men in the world she loves him! And, best of all, he loves her as much as she loves him, finally he can return love with his soul as well as with his body. Whatever will happen, he will relish the time he is given with Anne, he will trust her to make the right decision about their future together, and they will see what happens after that. He can always go back to the kind of life he has now, he will take the risk of getting his heart broken, or losing his job, if anyone is worth it it's Anne.

Thoughts quieted, Anne's regular breathing and the slight warm weight of her in his arms soon cause him to drift off as well. And when Simon brings a candle into the room later that night to check up on Anne, mostly to keep Dora satisfied that someone is looking after her mistress even though she refuses to let Dora see her in the throes of those opium-based pills, he finds the two lovebirds peacefully asleep in each other's arms. But asleep or awake, Anne's bleeding continues, and Simon gently wakes the young lovers to change Anne's rags, which they do together, Anne still very sleepy but Nick instantly awake.

'Do you by any chance have woollen drawers in stock, Simon?' he asks without the slightest embarrassment, once they're back to the bed. 'You won't believe how clumsy this whole rag-thing is set up. With a nice tight pair of knitted drawers I'm certain we can build up the rags to last the night.'

Since keeping stock is his job, Simon knows they have some, but none that would fit slight Anne.

'Not in Miss Anne's size, no. But I can get some tomorrow?'

'If you would, please. I suppose we'll manage tonight. What will we do tomorrow, Simon, won't Dora insist on seeing her mistress? I know I would, if I thought my mistress was kept away from me while possibly in agony. Can I hide in your room for half an hour? Or do you want me to go back home tomorrow, Anne? It seems you're doing quite well on half a pill.'

'I can't think at all, Nick, I'm sorry,' Anne yawns, 'I guess it's the opium, I'm too sleepy. Though I'm glad to be rid of the pain. Can I please go back to sleep? And will you please stay with me? I'm so afraid the dream will return, it was so real and so terrifying. I suppose we'll have to explain eventually, can't Frederick think of something? Will you ask him, Simon?'

And his poor love is fast asleep in his arms once more, leaving Nick confused and Simon embarrassed.

'I suppose she was a bit delirious, Simon,' Nick offers, 'I don't think she really expects you to disturb Mr Manners at this time of the night. Let's settle this in the morning, if someone knocks I'll hide under the bed.'

'Thank you, Nick, for your understanding.'

'Are you pulling my leg, Simon? I'm not some kind of gentleman, if I was of this household you'd outrank me!'

And though Simon acknowledges this with a kind smile, he still seems a bit rueful, as if he regrets not being able to confer with Mr Manners immediately. He approaches Nick with a soft expression, and just before he kisses Nick on his forehead, like a father would kiss his son, he comes to his senses and merely clasps his shoulder familiarly.

'I'm sure everything will turn out well, Nick,' he says gaily, 'Frederick will make it right.'

Then with a last look at sleeping Anne, he turns around and leaves the room, taking the candle.

'I'm glad you have such a fabulous talent for finding the quaintest places to stay, my love,' Elizabeth assures Darcy when they sit at breakfast, just before starting their last full day of travel. They left Pemberley early Monday morning after spending their Sunday on the estate, attending the familiar church with people they know, seeing Mrs Reynolds much recovered.

'Thank you, my love,' Darcy replies, 'I do feel guilty each time we pass an establishment my family frequented for decades, but I must admit I have come to prefer these smaller inns myself. After losing our anonymity in London I'm very relieved to be just an ordinary gentleman as long as we're on the road. And look! Apparently even smaller inns have a morning paper this close to London.'

Darcy retrieves a well-read newspaper from an adjoining table in the breakfast room, and chewing on a slice of toast spread thickly with fabulous local plum preserve he opens it.

'Oh, it's yesterday's after all. Oh well, it's not as if news travels that quickly.'

'It's not your regular paper, are you sure you want to read this one? I seem to remember it was stuffed to the brim with gossip last time we got our hands on one.'

That certainly is true, this is the kind of paper Miss Bingley, now Mrs Grenfell, would read. But, 'It can't be all that bad, can it? And shouldn't we know what is going on in the world despite having been so far to the north?'

'The Newcastle papers were fine, my love,' Elizabeth offers, 'though I still don't understand why they'd print London gossip in their society pages.'

'Those were the days, my dearest Elizabeth, when I still routinely skipped the society pages. Nowadays we need to worry about every servant we hire, and every tradesman we admit to our home, have Simon follow him around to keep him from poking into our business for some information to sell.'

At least the news is covered adequately, some articles dealing with national news, some on the situation in the colonies, and a frightening piece on what the French revolution is doing with that country.

'If you're going to read all of it, Fitzwilliam,' Elizabeth now says, 'you can give me part of the paper or I'll be bored.'

Of course, this isn't home, where Elizabeth can chat with Georgie or one of the others during breakfast, there are just the two of them here and he should spend some time on his beloved. Or give her the society pages, they seem to consist of nearly half the paper. Leafing to find the perfect place to split the paper, he no sooner finds it than a fat black header catches his attention.

'Dream weddings do come in pairs!'

'After failing to secure Miss Georgiana Darcy's hand through the interference of Mr Eric Fielding, already called the most talented pianist and composer of his generation by many, our most esteemed citizen Mr Frederick Manners has finally managed to make the coveted connection to the Darcy family after all. The heart and soul of our New Year's Eve Ball, the eternal bachelor, has finally been caught by a most surprising party, Mr Darcy's maternal cousin Miss Anne de Bourgh.

Miss de Bourgh came out of nowhere, ravishingly beautiful and as exquisitely dressed as her cousin's wife, to steal Mr Manners' heart and leave us all in suspense when and where their wedding will take place. That it will be as lavish as the New Year's Eve Ball is a certainty.'

After which follows a minute description of Georgie's wedding as it is supposed to be planned, in a venue stolen from a fairytale, plus a description of a wedding-dress that would leave poor Georgie lost in lace and diamonds. And an even more outrageous description for Anne's nuptials! Where did the reporter get this nonsense?

'He must have asked his wife, my love, or his daughter, to find out how they envisioned a dream wedding. And he probably used the description of the Ball and talked to someone who attended our wedding, or who talked to someone who knew I wore diamonds. Like a serving maid at the venue where we celebrated. It's a mixture of one or two facts from our wedding, the Ball and someone's fanciful dreams. Hence, dream weddings.'

Apparently he spoke his indignation out loud for her to reply to his thoughts, he cannot remember.

'Do you think your cousin is truly engaged to Frederick? Has he told her about himself?'

Darcy refuses to doubt Manners again, their friend will not act without his and Elizabeth's approval again, they can trust him. But he also knows Manners is certainly interested in making this gossip come true. He is looking for a wife, and he has not prevented these tales from finding fertile ground to thrive in. And Darcy still doesn't agree with that, he is determined that Anne deserves better than to marry a man who can never return her love.

'I don't think she is engaged, no. It's too soon, she is not going to decide something life changing like that in a few weeks. I think someone is making the most of their obvious friendship. I'm getting very tired of this, Elizabeth, I'm starting to suspect that our house is being watched day and night. Will they follow us to Pemberley?'

'Of course not, my love. No-one in London cares what happens three days to the north. As soon as we leave town we will have our lives back. Come, finish your coffee, Bob and Fanny will be waiting in the cold. Lucky couple, to have their wedding in absolute privacy. I still remember what it felt like to do as we pleased.'

But he does finish his coffee and folds the paper back together, after which he helps his beloved into her beautiful coat and they set off once more, back to London, back to the reporters.

Half a pill is clearly the right dosage for Anne, she sleeps well and wakes the next morning with Nick in her arms. There is some cleaning up to do and Nick is true to his word and does not hesitate to do his share, after which they lay back on the bed and snuggle to their heart's content. But there is a restlessness in Nick that keeps him on edge until indeed someone knocks and a masculine voice begs leave to enter. It's Simon, and he brings breakfast, clean rags, several ungainly knitted garments that make Nick very happy, and news.

'Dora still accepts that you want to be alone because you are afraid to say or do inappropriate things in front of your own maid. She doesn't like it, and she feels rather forlorn all by herself in a strange house, but she does believe you. Maybe you can allow her in for half an hour, show her you are well and not put out with her? I feel sorry for her, but she will feel better once Fanny is back and she has someone to talk to, she kind of looks forward to sharing a household with Mrs Darcy's maid.

Anyway, no danger of sudden intruders, Nick, just enjoy your leave and I'll fetch you if someone wants to visit Anne. Frederick wants to drop in later, and I suppose Miss Darcy is a little worried, but she and Mr Fielding will be out all day.'

And he gathers the laundry, replaces the bucket for the rags and is gone.

After an excellent breakfast, Nick shows Anne his idea with the knitted garments, which turn out to be men's underwear, a bit scratchy because of the wool but so tight the rags finally stay where they are supposed to be. They both laugh at the sight of Anne's slim figure in the less than elegant drawers, but they are surprisingly comfortable and she feels much more secure.

'If I wear these under my dress and petticoats, I can even leave my room.'

Looking at his expression she adds quickly, 'But I won't, Nick, I'm glad to be here with you.'

Nick is so insecure, where has her valiant saviour of yesterday evening gone?

'I'm sorry, my love,' he says, 'I keep seeing all kinds of problems cropping up before us, I love you so much but I'm afraid we'll never have a chance to make it work. Your world and mine are miles apart, aren't we fooling ourselves? Aren't we making our inevitable separation harder and more painful by getting to know each other so well?'

Anne does share his doubts. It seemed so easy to hide their involvement with the help of Simon and Frederick, but it is not. There are people everywhere, first of all Dora, then the other servants, then her relatives. Georgiana and Eric will understand if they find out, but Darcy? Despite letting his sister marry a man from as low a class, she knows he will not understand his cousin falling in love with a man like Nick, who has been a servant all his life and looks and talks like one. And tomorrow Darcy will return home, with Elizabeth, who is one of the most perceptive people Anne knows.

'Don't cry, Anne, please, or I'll join you. I'm sorry, love, I didn't mean to upset you. I thought you'd have a good answer for me, to hearten me, you did last time.'

He holds her and she holds him, and she'd swear he is close to crying as well. Why does life have to be so difficult? Why didn't they just enjoy their time together without falling for each other? Then they both could have gone their separate ways. And would it really be so bad to just let go of her family and marry him, even if it does mean delivering herself to him?

'I'm just used to being active all day, Anne, I think sitting here makes me feel useless. Let's read, or talk of innocuous things, like your cousin's wedding. I read in Mrs Blackwood's paper that it will be much like a fairytale, and that your wedding to Mr Manners will be even more splendid.'

'I never read that, Nick, and I read even the society pages.'

'I suppose the mistress may have a different one than Mr Darcy, it was in yesterday's edition. Still your Mr Manners really seems to like me.'

'He does, he's really fond of you. And we are not engaged, Nick, if the paper says that it is lying. I really think it is still an option for us to be together, but I will not make any decision without your knowledge. Truly. Please don't be jealous of Frederick, he does not love me, he really has our best interest at heart. What did it say about Georgiana's wedding?'

'How magnificent it will be, how much lace and diamonds she will wear, how the guests will number in the hundreds.'

'That is not even true. They expect fewer than fifty guests, Georgiana is shy and only wants her closest relatives to attend. I've seen her dress, it's magnificent, but not at all as one would expect it. No lace at all, and certainly no diamonds, though Darcy reputedly has a whole stack of them, most likely safely put away at some bank. I feel much better already, Nick, just talking about a wedding. Why don't we take things one day at a time, see where they lead us? I'm happy when I'm with you, I don't want to spoil that with fear or misgivings. I never did, but it was difficult after I left, when I thought you were back with your ladies while I was trying to keep up my spirits.'

'And I thought you hated me for despoiling you. I was so confused, I had never fallen in love before. You are right, my love, let's not think too much about the future, or your cousin. As you said, Mr Manners likes me and he practically abducted me here, if I lose my job he will find me a new position.'

'And if I lose my virtue, he will marry me.'

And saying that with a merry laugh does not cost Anne any effort. At that moment, she firmly believes that all will be well, because Frederick says he will take care it does.

Besides worrying for her cousin Anne's health and well-being, Georgiana also misses her presence and her excellent sense. She would so love to ask her opinion on all kinds of practical things concerning the wedding, and if she dared, about love. For Anne has to be seeing someone to know about ways to prevent getting with child, and it has to be someone with experience. But why is she doing it in secret? She is an adult and she has her own fortune. He has to be of low birth, or maybe even married. If Anne's mood before she got sick is any indication, things had been going badly until very recently, and if Georgiana's powers of observation are worth anything, Frederick was involved.

Maybe she will get a chance to talk to her cousin tonight, just before or after dinner. Anne will only let Simon or Frederick see her, avowedly because she is taking opium-based pills and fears to make a fool out of herself in public. But Georgiana does not buy that for one second. She knows what is ailing Anne, and though it can be very disconcerting and embarrassing, they are her family and will not hold anything she suffers or says against her. Unless she is afraid to tell them about her lover. Which proves Frederick is in over his ears.

And when they return to the house after a day of lessons and making the last arrangements for their wedding, Georgiana asks Johnson to send Simon to her in the drawing-room. He arrives even before Eric has time to take place in front of the piano, and Georgiana asks him, 'Simon, will you please ask Anne whether she'll see me tonight? I'm worried, it can't be healthy to be by herself all day in her condition. I always feel very sorry for myself, and I'm not even unduly bothered when it's my time. She must be feeling awful, in a strange house, with Fitzwilliam gone away, and not even her little maid for company.'

'Frederick has been sitting with her all afternoon, Miss, and she seemed much better today. But I will ask her if she will see you. Dora has been to see her, too, Miss.'

Simon bows and leaves the room, ever since Fitzwilliam's marriage he has been this strange mixture of formal servant and intimate friend to Georgiana, whereas he used to just be some kind of friend of her brother's. He never sits down in the drawing-room these days, and he always calls her Miss or even Miss Darcy there, even though the four of them sit together for hours and chat in the boudoir or one of their own rooms. Five, whenever Anne joins them. Did Elizabeth start this change? She treats all the servants the same, whereas Fitzwilliam always favoured Simon. Or is it that he fears to betray his closeness to Frederick?

Simon returns almost instantly, bringing Anne with him! She looks fine, she even has a little blush on her cheeks, making her as beautiful as ever, even her dress and hair look as if she's had her maid to help her.

'I'm sorry I've been so reclusive, Georgiana, it was such a shock to me. I suppose I hoped those days of suffering were past, but of course they weren't, and it's so disgusting. I feel so embarrassed all the time. But... Simon brought me something very useful, I even dare step outside my room for an hour now.'

Did she almost name someone else just now? Georgiana forces herself to stop doing that, thinking like that. Anne has a right to her own private life, if she prefers to keep to her room those days of the month that is her right. If she has someone in her life she doesn't want her cousins or anyone else to know about, that is her own business, and Georgiana will help her to keep her secret towards anyone, even aunt Catherine, even Fitzwilliam.

'Can you sit down for a moment? I've missed you, Anne, it's so good to have someone to talk to, you've become such a good friend to all of us. I was worried, but I didn't blame you for wanting to stay by yourself. I always feel a little unstable when it's my time, and with what happened at Rosings and a trace of opium on top of that, I can imagine what you must have felt like.'

Anne seems astounded.

'You feel unstable, too? Like you want to cry over virtually nothing at all?'

'Sure, and I don't even have much pain or mess. I just want to hold someone and cry my eyes out for absolutely no reason at all. I can imagine you'd prefer to have Simon or Frederick witness that instead of your maid. I've never used anything containing opium, though. My opium has strings and is at least as seductive, but it doesn't cause me to talk.'

'I never used opium before either. I never used to noticed the difference between these days and all the others, I was down all the time. Can it be it was just my state and the pill making me feel very downhearted this morning? You know I saw someone who had used those pills not so long ago and I was afraid they'd affect me similarly. He was generally very self-assured but those pills made him humble and clingy. I didn't want people to see me that way, but I was in so much pain.'

Georgiana is not going to think of who that may have been, she is not. The servant. The one with the shiners, who herded his charges away from Eric. Self-assured, and clingy when badly hurt and in pain. Looking lost when Anne wasn't at the concerts. Anne staying away from concerts. Stop. Not her or anyone else's business.

'So maybe it's not the opium making me downhearted. I've not felt like floating away on half a pill, either. You know when I took a whole pill I was afraid to float back to Rosings and have my mother's surgeon kill me to help her bathe in my blood? It was very disconcerting.'

By now they are sitting in a comfortable chair each, and Eric is playing in the background, something Georgiana hasn't heard him play before, and she turns around slowly to see him totally unaware of his surroundings.

'Is he composing?' Anne whispers. 'It's as if he's not really here with us.'

Georgiana has never seen her beloved like this, he was a bit distracted all afternoon, but she merely guessed most men just cannot keep their minds on weddings and details. Except Fitzwilliam, who would undoubtedly have insisted on arranging everything if he hadn't been forced to leave for Newcastle.

'I've certainly never heard this music before,' she observes to Anne, who seems altogether taken by the whole situation. She does not speak a word, and when Eric starts again and Georgiana comments in a low voice, she looks alarmed.

'Don't worry, he won't hear us, you know, and he will play it again dozens of times before he writes it down. I've seen this part, just not the very first time he played something new. It must have come to him when we were out this afternoon, he must have been dying to get back to his piano to play what he heard in his mind.'

'It's beautiful, Georgiana. Sometimes I envy the both of you your talents, to be able to express your feelings with such beauty.'

'It's not without a price, Anne. And besides, everyone has a talent. You weren't really alive for ten years, and yet you have taken to society beyond anyone's imagination. The papers are bursting with your praise, you see things no-one sees. And you are taking charge of your own life, Anne, that is more than most of us can boast of. Don't let anyone tell you what to do, not even my brother, not even Frederick. I will be your friend whatever happens.'

While Anne's palpable relief proves her cousin is probably doing something she considers improper, Georgiana finds she doesn't care one bit. She is just overjoyed to find a friend in a relative she used to consider hopelessly overbearing, when in fact she was desperately lonely and unable to find the strength and courage to do anything and relate to anyone. Suddenly a weird and wonderful idea strikes her, though Anne may not agree with her at all.

'May I ask you a tremendous favour, Anne?'

'Of course, Georgiana, if it's in my power I'll do anything. I'm so glad you support my wish to be independent from my mother, or other relatives, or people in general.'

'Would you be my bridesmaid? I know you're much older than I am, and I know it's a bit rash and unplanned, but frankly I'm desperately afraid to wear that intricate gown and have everybody look at me. I know Fitzwilliam will be there to give me away, and Eric to catch me if I swoon, but I'd so love to have a woman to support me as well.'

Anne is almost moved to tears.

'Yes, Georgiana, I would love to. I, too, will be afraid of being looked at, I still feel like the worn-out maiden past her prime sometimes, I'd like to stand there beside you in a beautiful gown and take some of the attention away from you. It will be a deed of defiance for me, as it will be for you. And since I have just the right dress for the occasion, one I haven't worn in public yet, stunning but much less so than yours, it will be a lot less hassle than you might think. Thank you so much for asking me, Georgiana. I always wished to have a sister, and now it feels as if I have one.'

'Not just one, Anne. When Elizabeth returns it will be even more fun. She defied your mother openly, didn't she?'

'Elizabeth must be the bravest woman alive, Georgiana, and I truly hope she will become as dear to me as you have. You should have seen her at Rosings that time, with not just my mother to contend with, but Darcy too. He did not show his love for her at all, he was cold and aloof, almost frighteningly so, and still she dared tease him. I was truly stunned to hear of their engagement, I thought she hated him with a passion.'

'She did. Fitzwilliam's grief over that changed me, too. And look where it brought us, we will have such a good time together before we all go our own way. Thank you so much for indulging me, Anne, I hope you feel better, soon.'

'I feel much better already, Georgiana. Your support makes me feel loved and wanted, and that's all a girl really needs, isn't it?'


	105. Chapter 105

Chapter 115

Though she'd rather have stayed at Pemberley, Elizabeth is glad when Fitzwilliam hands her out of the carriage in front of their London house around noon. Georgiana is waiting for them, and she embraces both of them before they even get inside.

'How do you plan these trips so exactly, Fitzwilliam,' she exclaims, 'just enough time to exchange the news before lunch! I've missed you, both of you. There's a letter from Charlotte that came yesterday, and your sister sent word, Elizabeth, she wants to call on you this afternoon to hear about Lydia.'

As they enter the hall, Johnson closing the door behind them and taking their coats, they find Eric, Frederick and Anne waiting for them. After the usual warm greetings they all move towards the drawing-room, Eric and Georgiana of course holding hands, but Anne and Frederick almost as close, though in no way improper. Can the paper be right? But how? Simon catches up with his master and mistress just as they approach the elaborate staircase and asks politely, 'Do you want to freshen up first or do you want coffee to be served straight away, ma'am?'

Simon? Polite? Why?

'Definitely freshen up first, Simon, thank you. It's warm in the house compared to the carriage. How are things here?'

They have halted in front of the stairs and Simon replies, 'Everything went very well, as you may have concluded Miss de Bourgh has moved in and she has settled well, though she has suffered a minor monthly inconvenience that Mr Manners' doctor had foreseen and proscribed medicine for. Ma'am, sir, she found out about Frederick and myself, deduced it with no more than a few clues. She is very smart and very observant.'

Now Fitzwilliam cannot control himself any longer and asks outright, 'And engaged to Manners? You should know, Simon.'

He does know, and he bows and admits, 'Not engaged, sir, but he asked her to consider a union.'

'The paper suggested it was a definite thing.'

'I suppose you refer to the same paper that described Miss Darcy's coming nuptials as a dream wedding, strewn with lace and diamonds, when we all know her dress looks more like something from a French modiste's portfolio? Some London reporter is very fortunate to have writing down his fantasies rewarded with a salary.'

That is the Simon they all know and love. Whatever caused him to be so scrupulously polite before? Fitzwilliam accepts his valet's statement with a nod, but he does not sound happy as he mutters, 'But she is contemplating a union, knowing the truth.'

'She likes him, sir, and I dare flatter myself that she likes me as much. He offered her freedom and a role in his machinations, Miss de Bourgh is not a woman to sit at home with children and net purses while her husband hunts game or otherwise. She needs to be challenged.'

'And you like her as much as she likes you, I can hear that, Simon. Well, I'm not her father nor her guardian, she is an adult and of independent means, and I still feel rather guilty about what was done to her without my or anyone else's interference. Thank you for being straightforward, Simon.'

But Simon is not ready to let them leave.

'Sir, ma'am, I have a friend over, the Blackwood family retainer. His charges are both getting married, which means he will be looking for a new position soon. I offered to show him around my job, to help him find out if he can improve himself by applying for a similar position. I hope you don't mind, I assure you he will not get in your way.'

'That's the twins' guardian, isn't it?' Elizabeth remembers, 'it's very kind of you to help him, Simon, I'm certain we will not be bothered by his presence. So those girls are ready to settle, then?'

Simon suddenly realises something and is truly disconcerted.

'You didn't hear, yet?' and to himself, 'no, of course, they were out of town!'

Then back to formality in an instant, 'Miss Sophie Blackwood is on the verge of announcing her engagement to your cousin Colonel Compton, master. Didn't he write? Of course he wouldn't until they had an understanding. I'm sorry, sir, that you had to hear of it in this way, I know you dislike gossip.'

'Never mind, Simon,' Fitzwilliam says soothingly, 'I've come to realise gossip can be very entertaining, as long as one isn't the subject oneself. So cousin Fitzwilliam has found someone he can love. She did not strike me as a very penetrating young lady, but of course I don't know her at all.'

'No, sir, you are right, she is merely very sweet. And she has a voice like an angel. Nick says the colonel will not regret marrying Miss Sophie, she is truly as sweet as her voice. Nick is their retainer, sir, but he seems more like their older brother, he knows them better than anyone. I'm sorry, I should not keep you standing in the hall much longer, sir, ma'am. Please forgive me for intruding. Shall I bring coffee in half an hour?'

'Better make that ten minutes, Simon, we're not going to tarry this time, I want to hear all the news, from you, too.'

Simon merely bows deeply and leaves towards the kitchen.

As they go up the stairs, Elizabeth observes, 'I suppose the colonel may be much happier with a sweet girl. I kind of liked her, but I wouldn't have picked her as a possible wife for your cousin.'

'She doesn't compare to you, my love, I hope he won't be disappointed. But it is what I was planning to do after that night at Hunsford, find a sweet girl of good breeding to settle with. I'm so glad I didn't have to after all, and I do realise there is just one of you in all of England. Still, it's such a difference! I suppose I'll wait until we've seen them together before I pronounce him fortunate in his choice. But what about Anne, Elizabeth?'

'What about her, love?'

By now they have reached the top of the stairs and are strolling towards their own room, which undoubtedly already has a nice fire going in the hearth and a suitable dress ready for Elizabeth to wear laid out by Fanny, even after her maid's own tiring days of travel. But she will be free to rest later, or to retreat to that secret straw love-nest in the last stall for a few kisses and some snuggles from her devoted Bob.

'Do you think Anne should throw herself away on a man who doesn't love her? Who doesn't even know how to love a woman? Isn't this just another one of his conquests, a scheme gone right?'

They know! They know about their involvement, they know about his reputation, how can that be? Someone must have talked, Dora must have found out and told the master of the house as soon as he came back. Now Nick is in big trouble, and Anne as much so. And it's not even true, he can love a woman, his heart is burning with fear of losing her even now. But of course a gentleman like Mr Darcy would think of his cousin loving a servant like Nick as throwing herself away in the first place, even though Nick loves Anne more than life itself.

Why didn't he stay in Anne's room? He almost got caught by the master of the house, just because he insisted on going to the privy instead of using her chamberpot. Best that he leave straight away, no matter how fast Mr Manners talked that afternoon, there is no future for either Anne or himself in this doomed love. But how convincing Mr Manners sounded when he explained he would hire Nick to accompany his wife on the daily walks her health requires, and how they would travel the continent together. With Simon to become Mr Manners' valet, Nick would always have a true friend close, wouldn't it be rather entertaining to accompany the newly wedded couple together? But who was the mysterious love of Mr Manners' life? Where would she be all this time?

As Nick quickly fetches his coat from Anne's room and takes a few moments to relish the time he has spent here with her, the door opens without someone knocking. Nick's heart nearly stops and he almost dives under the bed, until he realises that would be too late anyway and it's Simon who has come in.

'Come along, Nick, no need to be a prisoner in this room, the master and his wife have returned and I've told them I have a friend over to show him the ropes of keeping house. I told them you're about to become redundant and are thinking of improving yourself by applying for a similar job. The mistress commended me for doing a friend a favour. We'll start with coffee and then I'll show you my study. Miss Anne will be busy for at least two more hours, and what is going on? Why are you wearing your coat? You're not leaving, are you? Without saying goodbye to Miss Anne?'

'I can't stay, Simon, I sneaked out to go to the privy and heard Mr Darcy talking to his wife. They know, someone must have told them. He was telling her Anne should not throw herself away on a man who couldn't love a woman. How could he know about my past, who told him?'

'Nick, think! If Dora told him he'd be angry, oh yes, but not because you've slept with a lot of women. Being a servant is bad enough, believe me! He does not know, and Dora did not tell him because she doesn't know either. Now pull yourself together and come with me until Miss Anne returns. If you still want to leave her then that's your choice, but you're not leaving in a panic. How will you get home? And do you really want to abandon her just like that? You'll break her heart!'

'I'll break her heart anyway. We'll both have our hearts broken. Your master will never accept me.'

'My master doesn't have to accept you, he has no authority over Miss Anne. He does not know you are here for Miss Anne, he thinks you are my friend. So come with me. I've promised to serve coffee in about five minutes, and you are going to help me.'

Though Nick can think of a hundred things he'd rather do than face Mr Darcy in the rich drawing-room of his house, he also knows servants are generally invisible to the people they work for, and he does trust Simon more than a little. Besides, he isn't a snivelling coward, though he realises it must seem that way to Simon. Better prove he does have some guts to speak of.

As soon as they are downstairs and on their way to the kitchen, Nick's anxiety drops, the servants' quarters here are very familiar and it's always nice to see Dora again. The coffee is already waiting, as well as a tray with slices of pie, a second server comes in quite handy. Dora is polishing silverware, she loves doing that, Nick remembers her doing it at the Blackwood house as well. As a personal maid she has few duties besides seeing to her mistress' needs, but since Anne has been keeping to her room poor Dora must have begged the cook for something to do. She exclaims when she spies Nick, drops her work and falls on his neck.

'Nick! So good to see you! Is Miss Sophie visiting?'

'Miss Sophie is seeing someone, Dora,' he replies, pleased with his reception, 'I'm here with Simon, to see if I can try for a little more exalted position if one is available somewhere. I'm not going to be a Blackwood retainer for very long anymore, I'm afraid.'

'Miss Angelina, too?'

Nick nods, 'Both officers, good men. Mr Blackwood offered me a different job, as salesman in his business, but I'm keeping my options open. You know I like living among the higher classes.'

Of course Simon beams his approval, it won't do to have Dora making calves' eyes at him, and thinking Nick wants to have new ladies to chase after won't do her any harm either. She does look a bit disappointed, but Nick would not date her even if he weren't in love with someone else. He did not make that up to get Felicity off his back, he really believes it doesn't work, not with him.

'You take the coffee, Nick, I'll take the treats. Come quickly, the mistress will be waiting.'

Of course Nick has done some serving before, it's not that difficult, though he'd prefer to wear a livery for jobs like this. But it's good to be doing something, he just hopes Anne won't be startled to have him appear in the open suddenly. As Simon opens the door to the drawing-room and Nick follows in his wake, balancing a full pot of coffee and a load of cups on his tray, Nick finds out that in this household, servants are not as overlooked as much as he expected. Since Simon is dealing out slices of pie on plates and handing them to the people present, Nick follows suit and pours coffee in cups, wondering how to share them out and still have cream and sugar ready for those who want to use it. Before he has figured it out, Mr Darcy approaches him and requests two cups, one black and one with a little cream.

'You're the Blackwood man, aren't you? Simon told us you were here, good work my man, making the best of a difficult situation.'

Nick can hardly keep his unease from showing, he can only hope Simon was right, that he misunderstood what this tall, dignified man said to his wife not even half an hour ago. He bows politely and manages to say, 'Thank you, sir.'

Before Mr Darcy has reached his other half with the two cups, Nick bets the black coffee is his, he looks like someone who drinks his coffee black, Miss Darcy and Mr Fielding approach him and ask for a cup each with plenty of sugar and cream.

'Your eyes look much better, Mr Fowler,' Miss Darcy says with humour. How does she know his name? And why does she give him an honorific? He's just a servant, isn't he?

'We all really admired the way you handled your charges, Mr Fowler. I'm glad to see you back to health, my cousin did worry about you, you know.'

And she offers him a big smile. Maybe Simon made a mistake taking him into the drawing-room with the family present, Miss Darcy seems a bit too perceptive for their safety. But Nick has no time to worry, for the adored Mr Fielding now remarks, 'The twin's shepherd. I admire you immensely, the way you got your mistresses to heed your instructions with so little effort and at exactly the right moment was just amazing, each and every night. We've been missing all of you, Georgiana tells me they're about to get engaged?'

'They are, Mr Fielding, both of them.'

'Congratulations, but also commiserations, for I suppose that means you will lose a job you were very good at.'

'Thank you, sir,' Nick replies, 'I suppose I'll find another position, but I will miss those girls.'

And then there are only Mr Manners and Miss Anne to serve, and he knows how they take their coffee, so he brings it where they stand talking to Mr and Mrs Darcy.

'Making yourself useful, I see?' Mr Manners observes dryly, causing Nick's heart to stop. How can he say such a thing? Next thing the others will know he has been in this house for days, hiding out in Miss Anne's room.

'Simon is showing me the ropes, sir.'

That is all he can think of, and only speaks because it would be incredibly rude to not reply. But it seems everyone, no exceptions, has a kind word for him, even Mrs Darcy, who looks him straight in the eye and says, 'Nick Fowler, right? So you're moving up in the world? I'm sure you can do it, I've seen you at the concerts, you have what it takes.'

She is much younger than he thought, though Anne did tell him, but her poise and dress make her seem his own age. 'Thank you, ma'am, I hope so.'

Then only Anne is left without coffee, and Nick hands her her cup, with plenty of cream and no sugar, she still doesn't like sweet things very much, though she has learned to eat them. She looks at him with her beautiful eyes and his heart stops, but he manages to refrain from showing it. At least he hopes he does.

'Oh, hello Nick,' she says, 'good to see you again, you look fine. I didn't expect to see you serving coffee in my cousin's house. Are you visiting Simon?'

'I am, Miss de Bourgh. He is helping me find out whether I'd be any good at what he does.'

'Well, you've got my coffee just right, thank you very much.'

And then she turns back to Mrs Darcy, but her eyes sparkle, promising him a much warmer reception later.

Having assured herself that everyone here is just fine, while enjoying their own superior brand of coffee and an exquisite piece of apricot pie, Elizabeth begs to be excused for half an hour to read Charlotte's letter. She can read it right here in the drawing-room, of course, but she knows it will contain Charlotte's announcement of her baby's birth, and Elizabeth is afraid to show a reaction to the news in front of her friends and relatives. Somehow, her own feelings on that matter have taken a sharp turn to the opposite side, and her fear of never being able to conceive is now starting to overcome her fear of losing her freedom.

Fortunately she is still able to keep her feelings from Fitzwilliam, he merely kisses her and observes, 'Of course you want to savour your friend's letter in peace, I'll bear the loneliness for an hour. Besides, I am very curious how Georgie's preparations for the wedding have progressed, it's their first project together. And Anne is planning to retreat to her room for a nap, I'd like to know how she has been. Falling out with aunt Catherine is not a minor thing, I've been there and I am only her nephew.'

'You were her favourite nephew, though, my love, and I wonder whether she wasn't as fond of you as she has ever been of Anne. But we'll have weeks and weeks to help her come to terms with her loss, if Frederick and Simon haven't done so quite adequately already, she seems fine, Fitzwilliam, happy even. And look at her dress, it's just amazing. Simon again, is my guess.'

'You are right, as ever, my love. Now go read your letter, and tell me what your friend has given her adoring husband: a future pianist, or an heir to his magnificence.'

They part with a laugh and yet another kiss, and Elizabeth takes the letter to the little confidence-room. Despite Elizabeth's tiny twinge of fear something may have gone wrong, it is a thoroughly frank and joyous communication, written by a Charlotte who must be happier than she has ever been.

My very dear friend Eliza,

I trust this letter finds you well, knowing how your kind family and lovely house make that a virtual certainty. Despite the hectic and thoroughly embarrassing sequence of events that transpired during our visit to your lovely home, I dare assure you my situation here at Hunsford has been much improved. I will tell you all the details later, but first I have excellent news.

Yesterday evening, at ten pm, my dear husband and I have been blessed with a healthy sturdy baby boy whom we named William Lucas Collins. I am tired but otherwise very well, the midwife said she had rarely seen a child make a quicker and less complicated entrance to this world. My dear little boy is the most perfect baby one has ever seen, so small and helpless and yet so perfect with all his little toes and fingers, and beautiful deep-blue eyes.

Will is also totally enamoured of his little son, though he so would have loved to have a little girl he said it was a great relief to him to have an heir to take care of me and any other children that may follow our dear, sweet baby.

Will? Will? Has Mr Collins acquired a Christian name all of a sudden? And Charlotte not only uses it, but shortened it to make it sound like a dashing young huntsman's name instead of the ungainly, sanctimonious clergyman Elizabeth knows her husband to be? Something must have changed indeed within the Collins' household! Or Charlotte has polished her account of her life's events, as she has always done before. But somehow Elizabeth knows that is not true, for 'Will' just doesn't fit in anywhere but the blessed truth. She continues reading, her contemplations will keep, they will undoubtedly occupy her thoughts for a very long time yet, but not now, news first. Jane will love to hear this, too.

I cannot but admit that I am greatly relieved to find our baby a boy, though I realise this may be a rather sensitive subject still lying between you and me. But dear Eliza, dare I say our being heir to your father's estate will not prevent Mr Bennet from leading a long and happy life? With yourself, Jane and Catherine so happily settled can we not put this behind us? Will and I are perfectly happy as we are, and we rejoice in Mr Bennet's excellent health.

Dare I hope you will bless my sweet baby and myself with a visit some time soon? I know it is a lot to ask, with Miss Darcy getting married and Miss de Bourgh soon to follow, but it would make me very happy indeed. And once you and Mr Darcy are settled back at Pemberley there will be such a distance stretching out between us, dear Eliza.

While I am still rather tired, I feel I owe it to you and to Mr Darcy to let you know how Lady Catherine has been faring under her daughter's absence, and I find I can write quite easily from my bed, my dear, innocent baby sleeping right beside me in his little crib. I gather Miss de Bourgh has broken off all ties to her mother, and that the rest of the family supports her in this action, including Mr Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam and even the latter's father, the esteemed Earl Compton.

After our return from London I was indisposed for several days with fatigue and shock over everything that had happened, as well as being rather afraid of Lady Catherine's reaction to her daughter's dining at your house and accompanying you to Mr Fielding's concerts. I knew she would not approve and Will, on top of his rightful suffering for his foolish actions at your London house, was rather oppressed by the prospect of having to own up his findings to his patroness. But there was no help for it, he had to go and face her as soon as we had arrived and he had settled me comfortably. Poor Will, he was actually trembling.

Despite her firm dislike of her cousin, Elizabeth feels for him, to face an outraged Lady Catherine when he is totally dependent on her. And he had just burned the only possible bridge for retreat behind him, by alienating his cousin's wealthy husband beyond likely reparation. But wait, Bingley or Lascelles may yet be willing to assist Mr Collins if the worst happens.

He walked over trembling and returned gibbering, Lady Catherine had not refrained from killing the messenger. Figuratively speaking, of course, poor Will was physically unharmed, but she had ranted and raved at him, almost beyond his endurance. He wanted to keep Miss de Bourgh's association with Mr Darcy from his patroness, but she stripped him of his will and forced him to confess everything, then tried to blame him for it. I'm afraid Will totally humiliated himself before her, pleading for mercy and begging her to stop thinking a man like him could ever influence someone as noble as Miss de Bourgh or Mr Darcy, let alone Lady Catherine's elder brother.

That stopped her rage towards him and he was dismissed, but he did hear her raving and ranting she'd teach them all a lesson and have her faithless daughter fetched home. When Will told me about that I wanted to write to you immediately, but Will said Mr Darcy and Mr Manners would handle anything she could think of. Frankly, Eliza, he was so anxious I just didn't dare, I needed him, you see, and he was close to breaking.

Will stayed with me for two days, I guess one might say he hid in my bedroom, where he waited upon me hand and foot. Then a request came from Rosings that he come over for tea, and he did. He had to go, of course, and Lady Catherine had calmed down and made a beautiful apology. As soon as I was back on my feet we went over for dinner as often as we used to, and she never once mentioned Miss de Bourgh, though everything at Rosings had changed: the chambers were colder for Lady Catherine kept them warm for her daughter, and of course Miss de Bourgh and Mrs Jenkinson were no longer there. She was all by herself. Will dared suggest she take in a lady companion for herself, but Mrs Jenkinson wouldn't come back and she wanted no-one else. So she sent her carriage for us almost every evening.

But when I couldn't go out to visit anymore Will didn't want to leave me by myself to dine with Lady Catherine and he wasn't even anxious to be dismissed. I guess something had broken inside him when she treated him so badly, he had given her his all and she betrayed his loyalty by blaming him and ranting at him after he had, in a way, forsaken his family for her. He told me about his youth and his miserly father and it was pretty bad, Lady Catherine had brought it all back. But he let me comfort him and our baby turned and kicked under his hands, and I told him I didn't want him humiliated even more, we could live with my parents if the worst happened.

Then one afternoon when Will went out to visit Lady Catherine her brother was there, Earl Compton, and he was scolding her like nothing Will had ever heard before from a gentleman of such high rank. Will couldn't hear what it was all about, it seemed to have to do with her doctor. Lady Catherine was in tears and pleaded forgiveness, but her brother was adamant. Will felt sorry and dared to go in to support her, and the Earl was really nice to him, told him he looked tired and worn and needed a rest, then asked whether the baby had already been born.

They sent word he was to dine with the Earl and Lady Catherine, and when he came back he was much relieved. Since that evening Lady Catherine has been very nice to Will, but she is not well, she used to have a doctor over to bleed her and Will thinks those bloodlettings kept her from becoming choleric. Though I find her quite the opposite these days, I think she was merely spoiled by everyone around her indulging her in every whim, and now she has found them not quite so compliant. Earl Compton clearly knows how to manage his sister.

Will sends his love and implores you to let Miss de Bourgh know her mother has been brought down to a formerly unknown level of disconsolation. Mr Darcy and Miss de Bourgh could easily be forgiven for their offences against her should they wish. He wishes them to know Lady Catherine de Bourgh is suffering and may fare badly if ignored or neglected by those she loves most in this world.

I think it's her duty to reach out for her relatives to forgive her, not the other way around. But of course poor Will was raised differently and has trouble expecting humane treatment from anybody whereas my parents truly loved me and taught me to always expect the best from the people around me.

Dear Eliza, this was a truthful account of events in Kent. I hope you do not fault me for standing up for my husband. He has been nothing but kind and even forthcoming towards me these last weeks. We share the care for our baby equally, frankly I don't know what I would have done without him, and he has really been through a lot from an early age, I cannot but forgive him for his quirks and strange moods. If you visit, I am certain he will behave quite nicely to you. But Mr Darcy would frighten him, bringing dear Fanny would be a much better idea.

Still, if you are busy you can see little William once he is grown a little, I suppose he will be very cute for a long time yet. Please give my regards to all your family, including Miss de Bourgh and Mr Darcy. Will sends his love but he knows he has transgressed and if you don't want to accept it he understands.

Charlotte then continues with a description of all the kind things Mr Collins has done since returning to Kent, and Elizabeth cannot not but rejoice for her friend. It is obvious that Charlotte is happy despite the circumstances, and that is the only thing she can wish for her friend. And a baby boy, exactly what she needs to cut off the entail, to prevent her from finding herself in the same predicament Mrs Bennet is in and Jane and herself had been in before they attracted the attention of wealthy gentlemen. Charlotte's daughters will be spared their mother's fate, having to make themselves agreeable to men they don't like or respect, just to gain an establishment.

Suddenly, Elizabeth feels an urge to be with her beloved, to let him kiss her and hold her, just to prove he really does love her, even if she never manages to give him a baby son. She does not think he will relent towards his aunt, Lady Catherine has really gone too far, and though Fitzwilliam might be capable of forgiving her, Lady Catherine will have to initiate their renewed contact.

Of course Elizabeth receives the welcome she hopes and expects, and without hesitation she hands the letter to her beloved and tells Georgiana and Anne about its contents. Georgiana cannot help but laugh at Mr Collins having been renamed 'Will' by his dearest Charlotte, though she also seems to find the whole thing rather romantic. And Anne says resolutely and dryly, 'I'm leaving my mother to Charlotte and Will for a few months at least. She will not get attention from me after nearly killing me and trying to have me abducted by a greasy local lowlife. Let her sweat it out, I'll risk her deeding parts of my inheritance to little William.'

Fitzwilliam looks up from the letter and asks, gravely, 'Do you think I should write to my aunt?' He looks at each of them in turn and Georgiana shakes her head as Anne says, 'Certainly not. She cast you off, she should seek reconciliation' and Elizabeth herself observes, 'I think you should let your own heart decide. You are well within your rights to leave her be, restoring contact with her will offer you no pleasure and undoubtedly more than a little outrage at first, but she is your aunt and apparently she is rather miserable at the moment. I will support you in whatever choice you make.'

'My love, you are too good for this world, really. After everything she said about you, to be so mild and forgiving.'

Well, he is quite mistaken there, Elizabeth is not forgiving towards Lady Catherine, and she Admits to her real feelings readily.

'Frankly, love, it's not a matter of forgiveness and higher feelings. I just don't care. Really. I'm sorry to be so blunt about your mother, Anne, but I don't know her very well and I never will. Her fate leaves me unaffected. If you want to seek a reconciliation, Fitzwilliam, I understand and I will even visit and be polite. But if you don't, it's fine by me. You decide.'

'Let me think on it,' he replies, 'I feel a bit sorry for her, but just a little. Do you worry, Anne, do you want me to seek her out?'

Anne doesn't even have to think about it and replies instantly, 'I'd rather have her suffer a little longer, maybe one can teach an old dog new tricks after all, maybe she will learn that treating people with arrogance and ordering them about will not gain her their friendship. I will not seek a reconciliation, what she did to me was unpardonable, she is no longer my mother.'

'Then I will not do anything, Anne. When you write to Charlotte will you let her know, my love? Or do you indeed want to go visit? As I remember saying to you once before, what's fifty miles of good road? Little more than half a day's journey. If you take the fast team Bob can have you there and back in two days with plenty of time to chat and hand over gifts, and Fanny will be thrilled to accompany you I'm sure. If you really want me to, I'll even come with you, we'll take rooms at the Hunsford Arms instead of staying with the family.'

'I'm tempted, I'd love to see the baby and Charlotte, and if I'm honest, I'm very curious about the new Mr Collins, too. It would have to be right after Georgie's wedding, wouldn't it?'

'Dora and I could come too, Elizabeth,' Anne offers, as if on impulse. 'We left in a hurry and expected to come back, I know Dora will want to see her family again before moving to Derbyshire, and I have left some things behind at Rosings that I'd like to have recovered.'

'Your mother tried to have you abducted, Anne, do you think it's safe for you to go that close to Rosings? Though I can imagine why you would want to go back this once, take leave of the neighbourhood as you couldn't before. Maybe I should come after all, provide some protection.'

'You are so right, Darcy, I didn't consider that, I thought uncle had settled mother rather firmly but why take a risk? Let us spend some thoughts on the matter, we don't have to decide straight away, do we?'

'No, there's Georgie's wedding first, and, according to the newspaper, yours as well.'

Anne blushes a deep scarlet and observes, 'Well, we have become very good friends, Frederick and I. It was bound to cause rumours.'

'A little bird told me he made you an offer and you're considering it?'

'A beautifully beplumed bird named Simon? He told you? But, yes, Frederick did make me an offer and I am considering it very seriously. He offered me freedom and a role in his society game. He does not want my money, he will not expect me to sit at home and crochet, he means to be equals, Darcy, and I must admit that is very tempting. Most men aren't like yourself and Eric and Frederick. Most men want their wives to know their place and be good mothers, but I'm not going to be ruled ever again. Frederick may be self-assured and even dominant at times, he has never been like that to me, I know he will stick to his promise and let me be myself. And I like Simon, a lot, and he likes me.'

'But Anne,' Fitzwilliam counters, 'they will love you, I'm certain, but only as brothers. Can you live without being loved? Don't you think you deserve to be loved as a woman? Maybe have children?'

Though she is trying to control her expression, Anne clearly did not expect her cousin to be so forthright, and she blushes again, looking incredibly pretty in the process.

'I thank you for your concern, Darcy,' she says with feeling, 'but I will have all the love I need. It will not be in a traditional way, which is the only reason I am still considering the offer instead of having already accepted.'

Elizabeth can see her beloved wanting to press the issue, it sounds as if Anne is already seeing someone, planning to take him into this strange marriage and of course Fitzwilliam will want to know what his cousin is up to. But Georgiana smoothly intervenes.

'I think you will have every chance of happiness with Frederick and Simon, Anne, though it will mean more than a little play-acting and secrecy for you as well as them. Though somehow I think you may find that an advantage of the match.'

And indeed, Anne beams and observes, 'I do. I've been stuck in a life of someone else's choosing for ten years, it's time to turn the tables, show the world a magnificent wedding and a couple fit to lead society. Then do whatever we like in private.'

And again Georgiana keeps her brother from digging deeper.

'Well, whatever happens, Anne, you will always have a friend in me. And Fitzwilliam, you don't need to burden yourself with visiting Mr Collins. There are people much better suited to guarding noble ladies, and Miss Anne de Bourgh can easily afford to hire a sturdy guard for her protection if she wants to go to Kent. She can even send such a man along with her maid, straight into the lion's den to fetch her personal effects, where you most certainly cannot go. Have Simon find him an impressive livery, Anne, and my aunt will watch him rifle through your childhood memories in stunned silence.'

Incredible, how Georgiana at almost seventeen can read a situation. Elizabeth wants to stay with Charlotte, not in an inn, and it would do Anne a world of good to do the same. Anne likes Charlotte, and may feel she owes her for having neglected her for such a long time. Fitzwilliam is too hot-tempered to be a really good guard, and he cannot step inside his aunt's house without making a statement. A servant invested with a certain authority will do much better, and of course they all happen to know one who will soon be looking for a new job. Mr Blackwood adores Anne, and Nick Fowler would challenge the three-headed hound of the Greek Hell for Miss de Bourgh, and possibly win. He did apparently chase off a tough sent by her mother to bring her back, while suffering from broken ribs and various other disabilities.

Meanwhile, Fitzwilliam bows before so much combined force.

'I still don't like it, but I'm not your father nor your keeper. You are very well-able to make your own decisions, and Manners will not risk the two of you getting involved in a scandal of some sort. He is very adept at these things. I'd rather see you married to a kind gentleman with a nice estate, but saying that I realise Manners counts as such. Still, I hope you will reconsider, but if you don't, I will be your friend, too.'

Poor Anne is having a difficult time controlling her feelings, it's almost as if Georgiana knows what is going on and is pushing Nick on her cousin. What was Simon thinking of, bringing him into the drawing-room? Though she realises it will make a perfect cover should he be caught in the house some time in the future. Everyone will associate him with Simon, not with Anne. With the possible exception of Georgiana, but she has made it clear it doesn't matter to her where Anne finds the love she needs, she will stand behind her cousin. And none of the others seemed to have even the slightest suspicion, which is good.

Suddenly Anne cannot imagine her own doubts that very morning. Isn't life great here? So many friends and relatives who love her, in fact Anne is enjoying herself hugely, her doubts about being with Nick must have been induced by her state. She will now let them go, and if Nick still feels them she will convince him to do the same. Nick makes her happy, and as long as their love lasts she will do everything in her power to be able to be with him. And if he resumes his philandering she will undoubtedly find another man she can love, and if she tires of Nick she will help him find a new position where he can access a steady stream of pretty ladies to entertain himself with. The thing to do is to learn to hide her lover from the rest of the world, enjoy public occasions without him, and take care he does the same. As long as they are both happy, freedom is much better than a union they may eventually come to regret.

And when she retreats to her room to take care of her rags and to be with Nick the rest of the day, she finds him waiting for her, as positive and as eager as she might wish him to be.


	106. Chapter 106

Chapter 116

When Johnson announces Mr and Mrs Bingley, Elizabeth feels a moment of disappointment. She hoped to see just Jane, ever since Bingley chose his friends over his wife in the matter of Grenfell's and Miss Bingley's marriage she has not been able to let go of a certain feeling of resentment towards him. Even though Jane has forgiven him and they are as close as ever. Even though Elizabeth did forgive Frederick, who was as deeply involved and probably the instigator of the whole scheme. But despite Jane being an adult, apparently Elizabeth feels inclined to protect her sister whether Jane wants it or not.

Fitzwilliam is obviously pleased to have his friend over, and if she wants to get away from Bingley she can always take Jane to the confidence room, Georgiana and Eric are very busy practising, Frederick is out, and Anne has retreated to her own room until dinner. She seemed well enough but Elizabeth can imagine her feeling uncomfortable with her affliction, Elizabeth tends to have the same vague sense of discomfort and shame at that time of the month, only on a different scale.

It is so good to see Jane again, they embrace and kiss and Elizabeth manages to kiss Bingley without showing her resentment. They chat for some time, Fitzwilliam telling Bingley about Colonel Drummond's plans to start breeding levelheaded hunters. Bingley seems very interested, then beams, 'I may be interested in one of those, can't risk my neck as I used to, Darcy, not once the baby is born. I'll have to become a sensible adult.'

In the face of such ingratiating enthusiasm Elizabeth's resentment starts to waver. He really is a dear man, and he will be such a great father. Jane looks at her husband with infatuation, she doesn't hold a grudge, she's glad to have her beloved back by her side. Fitzwilliam does not show any sign of longing for a child of his own, he merely smiles at Bingley with affection and says, 'You'll be the first with a baby after all, Bingley. But I did manage to get our brother-in-law a promotion.'

Then he tells them about his meeting with Wickham's superior officers, who all admired their ensign's bond with his men, and his resulting promotion to lieutenant on top of his transfer to the Rifle Core. Strangely enough, Jane doesn't appear to want to retreat to a more private room at all, when all has been said about the rest of their trip she merely asks, 'And Lydia, how was she, really?'

Bingley also seems to want to know, he shows every sign of sincere concern. As Elizabeth tells Jane about Lydia's fear of her loss having been a punishment from above, her sister shakes her head and observes, 'Poor Lydia, she never paid the slightest attention to Sunday school or the minister. And now she knew nothing to give her loss a proper place. Did you manage to resolve it?'

Elizabeth gives an account of maid Abbey and her family, and Lydia's friends advising to go to the camp's clergyman, and that man's excellent handling of poor Lydia's misinformation. She also mentions the little dresses Lydia had sewn and even embroidered, and their shopping expeditions and quiet afternoons together.

'I know being responsible for a new life will be a challenge for Lydia, but I really hope she will soon find herself with child again. Wickham will be in such danger in the Rifles, though I admire him for wanting to make a difference. I wish we could have a baby at the same time, Lizzy, you and I. But I know you don't really want a child already.'

Which of course makes no difference at all, children come as they will, maybe her own lack of power over these events caused Elizabeth to feel such objection against possibly finding herself with child. And now she would really like to know she can in fact have one, she is as helpless to influence the process. Small wonder it is so surrounded by old wives' tales and superstitions.

'So how was the big wedding?' Fitzwilliam asks, obviously to the confusion of his brother and sister.

'Your sister changed her name just after we left, didn't she? So how is Mrs Grenfell?'

The expression on both Jane and Bingley's faces is priceless, Fitzwilliam is obviously the last person in the world they expected to ask such a question, and he adds, 'We used to be good friends, you know, I'd like to know how she is.'

Jane recovers first.

'They seem to be really happy, both of them. We received them just yesterday for a morning visit, they are staying in town, avowedly to help his mother settle in her new London home, but Caroline told me later they have ordered the garden torn down and her Cuthbert couldn't face witnessing the destruction of his mother's great love. She said, 'I can't say I was loath to leave that dismal house, the decor is atrocious. And you know there will be mud and uncouth men all over the place for weeks, of course they wouldn't bother me, but Violet dislikes them violently, haha.'

She thought that was really funny. But her plans for the garden are quite nice, English landscaping instead of the formal French setup old Mrs Grenfell preferred. And she wants a ruin with a real hermit living in it. Apparently that is still quite a thing where they live, I thought a Chinese garden was the new fashion, I'd love to have one but Bingley and I are not going to spend much money on a leased house, we'll wait until we've purchased an estate of our own. Will you tell Fanny that Grenfell is in town? They live in an entirely different part of London, you know. Most of his friend are with them, only Bingley, Lascelles and Manners are lacking. They've taken Manners' defection very much to heart, he has been the heart and soul, and I suppose the conscience, of their group for so long. They blame the two of you.'

'And rightfully so,' Fitzwilliam observes with an air of contentment. 'It was almost entirely our fault.'

Bingley dares to gainsay his beloved friend, 'Not in our case, Darcy, not Lascelles and I, I guess we just grew up. And I think Manners, too, he finally found a lady worth attaching himself to, and he wants to be deserving of her. The things going on in Grenfell's house just before we went to bed, it is not something you want any lady to behold, let alone one you love. Maybe Grenfell will want to stop being part of those amusements, too, he has Caroline after all.'

'So they are happy together, that is for the best.'

'Caroline certainly is. She took me to the side and told me all about their intimate moments, until my cheeks must have blushed scarlet.'

In fact, Jane's cheeks are blushing vividly even with the memory.

'She wanted to know how our first night together had been, and described hers until even my ears burned. It all had to do with Cuthbert's superb musculature and his having a lot of experience with the action. Can you believe her telling me her husband had been a philanderer? Just like that? As if she was proud of it? I merely nodded and of course did not tell her anything about our private life, I couldn't get a word out anyway, I was so embarrassed.

Then she told me she was looking for a new maid to make her fit in with the London crowd and she started angling whether your maid might be convinced to leave you for a less ceremonious household, with a charming master and a flamboyant mistress. You did tell her about Fanny, didn't you, my love?'

Bingley, looking almost as embarrassed as his wife, asserts her, 'We certainly did, dear Jane. Though we wisely refrained from mentioning which maid had been his victim, Caroline can take an instant dislike to someone and we didn't want to prejudice her against poor Fanny. Besides, you know she talks to her maid and Mrs Hurst and who knows who else. Suppose all the servants in all the great houses knew Fanny had been attacked. What did you tell Caroline?'

'I wanted to tell her to stick to a plain maid her own age since her husband had proven to be a philanderer with a taste for young maidens. But I guessed you hadn't told her about Fanny, so I asked her whether she knew who Mrs Darcy's maid was. When she said she hadn't a clue, just wanted the maid who got her mistress all over the society pages as an icon of fashion, I told her my beloved sister's maid was as pretty as an angel and very young and innocent. It worked instantly, she does realise she should not have a maid better looking or younger than herself. I don't understand why she'd think I'd let her take Lizzy's maid away from her, she should understand I like my own sister better than herself. At any rate she changed the conversation to decorating, admiring your taste, Darcy, planning to have every single room of their estate made over. I have to admit it needs thorough refurbishing. I liked the grounds but they were his mother's great passion, I suppose Caroline wants to make the house and grounds more her own.'

Elizabeth would have liked to get more detail, but of course Jane would say nothing against Mrs Grenfell where her brother could hear it. Generally, Jane had become a lot less gullible towards her new sisters, especially Mrs Grenfell, and a lot less tolerant. Bingley also encouraged his sisters to stay elsewhere as much as he dared, but now Mrs Grenfell had a house in town they would mostly be staying there. Poor Mr Hurst, stuck with Grenfell as a companion, always being urged to join his brother in some sporting activity, and in the future maybe even in Grenfell's debaucheries, for Elizabeth did not think a philanderer could ever be cured. There would be parties again, if probably not in the new Mrs Grenfell's beautifully re-decorated house. Grenfell and his friends would find a way to stay amused.

'But Lizzy, Georgiana told me you had a letter from Charlotte, will you let me in on the news?'

Of course Elizabeth is pleased to do so, and even Bingley and Jane cannot help laughing out loud at Mr Collins' new nickname.

'Will? Seriously?' Bingley cries, 'imagine how jealous Bertie would be if he heard that some poor minister has a much better-sounding short name than he has. We all call him plain Grenfell, I wouldn't dare call him Bertie to his face, he is immensely strong and easy to anger. I think Caroline has dubbed him Cuthbert to imitate you, Lizzy, calling Darcy by his first name without shortening it, somehow it sounds very dignified while still expressing an endearing intimacy.'

Jane is glad to hear Charlotte has a perfectly healthy son, and indeed that Mr Collins is taking such an interest in mother and son to dare neglect his lonely patroness.

'He must have some better feelings after all, dear Lizzy. I suppose you're sorry now that you underestimated him and refused him.'

They all laugh at Jane making jokes, and Bingley is stunned to hear Mr Collins actually proposed to Elizabeth.

'I didn't even know that. I bet he didn't fall in love with you for your impertinence.'

'Indeed he did not,' Fitzwilliam remarks. 'Which is why I was the man to triumph. Though he still resents your rejection, Elizabeth, which I did only very shortly.'

'And I rejected him a lot more politely, so he had less reason to feel insulted. Still, Will is happy now, and so are we.'

'And of course you will visit Charlotte, won't you, Lizzy? If she wants it so badly? There is no reason you should not go, you have those fiery horses pining away in their stalls.'

'I may visit, I'm considering it. If Anne comes along it'll be a perfect chance to get to know my new cousin a little better. I like her so much more than I ever thought possible. She never even looked up when I entered their drawing-room at Rosings, she seemed devoid of all feelings, like the abominable Mr Darcy, I thought then. Wickham told me they were destined to get married and I thought they would make a great couple. I was very mean towards both of you, my love, I'm glad things changed between us.'

'Not half as glad as I am, dearest Elizabeth. Poor Anne didn't deserve our censure at all, I'm so ashamed I neglected her when I had known her as a bright, vivacious tomboy in our youths. You couldn't have known, but I blame myself for giving up on her, and I am going to make up for my negligence by being as good a friend to her as Georgie is. They have gotten really close during our absence, I'm glad those young people have such a good time together.'

Elizabeth is amazed, not that Anne and Georgiana have taken to each other, that was to be expected, but that her beloved only seems to feel the memory of poor Anne having been unable to enjoy a visit of lively young people to Rosings, not his own plight after one fateful night at the end of that visit. He seems to have come to terms with their past, which is of course a wonderful thing.

Their guests stay for dinner, and everything is very comfortable and pleasant. Frederick has returned from an afternoon of doing business and is eager to exchange news. Georgiana and Eric are ready for yet another concert that night, and they will be married within the week, Elizabeth is glad they decided to go for a special licence and show the world their love is forever. Of course Georgiana is still very young, but she is so sensible one would hardly notice. The way she called Fitzwilliam to order when he was being officious towards his cousin was as persuasive as it was subtle, Anne may not even have noticed, though she seemed to be thankful.

But after dinner their travels are starting to catch up with Elizabeth and she feels pretty tired and ready to turn in. The others are set to attend yet another one of Eric's concerts, Jane and Bingley chaperoning for Georgiana. Anne says good night, and retreats to her own room for the last time that day.

The next morning, Frederick feels it's a good thing to have his friends back, but disconcerting, too. Frankly, he is just a tiny bit anxious, not a common feeling to him, and usually associated with this family. But of course the people you love the most are the ones who can hurt you worst, and yes, vice versa. Frederick is not unaware of that last possibility, which is part of what makes him anxious. Darcy is obviously not pleased with the publicity around Anne's possible engagement to a man whose affections Darcy knows are taken. He may think the situation is the same as with Georgiana but it isn't. Anne is not in love with someone she can marry, not Nick with his background of philandering and his London accent. And she is not a sixteen-year-old girl, she is an adult, someone who knows what she wants of life.

But most disconcerting of all, there is some pain between him and Elizabeth. They did not have a chance to really talk before she left for Newcastle, and the memory of her look of loss still haunts him. Especially since he is once again doing things she may consider scheming, but which to him are of the greatest importance. And he can't even explain, for his friends must not find out about Nick. Not before Anne's marriage to Frederick is a fact.

Breakfast tastes like sawdust, his stomach complains, either with nerves or with the coffee he did manage to drink. Anne looks at him with concern, she takes good care of her fiancée. Nick is having breakfast with Simon in Anne's room, ready to leave as soon as Frederick is free to take him back to the Blackwood mansion. Nick's love makes him insecure, he has always been the one in charge, and trusting Frederick is still difficult for him. When will they dare tell him about Simon? Once he knows the truth he will accept Anne marrying Frederick much more readily, but it's not something to just tell a man you have known for a few weeks.

'Are you well, Frederick?' Elizabeth asks, 'you seem a bit less than spirited.'

Her kind voice breaks his musings, and his nerves resume their unfamiliar twinge.

'I seem a bit out of sorts, Elizabeth. I daresay it's nothing serious, though, just a touch of nerves.'

She looks him in the eye and asks, 'Do you want to sit in the boudoir for half an hour after breakfast? Maybe talk a little, see if that helps?'

The softness of her face actually worsens his anxiety, but he knows he has to face her if he wants to regain his peace of mind.

'Yes, please, Elizabeth. Do you want to go now?'

'Already? You haven't eaten a thing, no wonder you're nervous, drinking coffee on an empty stomach.'

'I'll eat something later, I have a friend among the servants, he lets me scrounge food between meals.'

'Come, Frederick, it's not that bad, is it?'

They both get up and Elizabeth kisses her husband, then walks around the table and catches Frederick's arm. A little squeeze is meant to hearten him but it reminds him of that moment when everything seemed to fall apart.

He sits down in a heap of cushions, and Elizabeth actually drops down right beside him, against him. She takes his hand and rests her head against his side. When he looks down on her in surprise she says dryly, 'I'm not going to scold you again, Frederick. Why are you so skittish? We made up beautifully, didn't we?'

'We did, but somehow I've not come to terms with what happened, not yet. I so nearly lost all of you. Even Simon. I understand now what Darcy went through when you rejected him.'

'I was a lot harder on him than I have been on you, Frederick. I resented him, threw his love right back into his face. And contrary to what he says now, he did not deserve that, he was not to blame. You didn't do that much wrong either, from what Jane said I have a feeling Mrs Grenfell is quite happy as she is.'

'But she had a choice, Elizabeth, I wouldn't have given her one. And I let Bingley quarrel with your sister. I'm still very sorry. I've cut my ties to the clique, I'm not going to see them again except separately, on occasion.'

'Jane told us. Said your friends blame us for losing you. We don't mind, if you don't mind.'

'No, it was time I did that, maybe it's best this way, together with Bingley and Lascelles. I can't help scheming, Elizabeth, it's who I am. I have never been able to truly be myself, I've always played a role, I'm really trying to be just me, and with Simon I can, but there is such fear in me of being found out. Please be patient with me, both of you.'

'We will, Frederick. It's just that I realised then how much I cared about you, and how little we actually knew you. But I think I've grown used to the feeling in the last three weeks.'

They sit together for a few more minutes, each with his own thoughts.

'I've always wanted a brother, and now it seems as if you're him. More than my brothers-in-law at any rate.' And she tells him a rather shocking story of George Wickham nearly assaulting her in some kind of frenzy of desire.

'Fitzwilliam must never know, Frederick, he'll call him out and get killed. Wickham is a soldier, there is no way Fitzwilliam can beat him in a duel. I got the better of Wickham, and that is where it all ends.'

Frederick agrees, there is nothing to be won by telling her beloved about this frightening experience.

'Should you need to talk about it, come to me. I'll be your older brother again and help you come to terms with it, though I suppose you did come out best. It's just incredible how some men adulate you, Elizabeth. Just when the colonel seems to have moved on, this happens. Fortunately you won't have to see him for months, maybe even years. To think he stopped Grenfell, then nearly did it himself. Incredible.'

Entirely in the spirit of their confidentiality, Elizabeth starts to explain to Frederick why she feels obliged to give Wickham the benefit of the doubt, time and time again.

'So you see, he may be Fitzwilliam's illegitimate brother, I don't even know what that would do with their relationship if it were true, but somehow Fitzwilliam seems to be coping a lot better with Wickham in general and I think it is important to keep it that way. Wickham will not bother me again. Half a year from now he may be in France, crossing the frontline with his men, looking for trouble.'

'And you say Darcy's uncle also suspects, but Darcy himself is totally unaware of the possibility?'

'Exactly. So we're going to try to find evidence at Pemberley and his own estate, apparently his sister's room is still more or less intact, but we've not decided what to do in case we find it.'

'It wouldn't change a thing, Elizabeth, second sons don't inherit, and besides, he would be illegitimate. Do you think Darcy would be devastated?'

'I don't. Somehow, he feels bound to help Wickham already, I don't want to dramatize the situation by stating he suspects something of this kind, but he does feel responsible for a man whom his father loved so dearly, and who was a constant companion in his youth, even a true friend. I think it would make things easier on Fitzwilliam if Wickham turned out to be his little brother. Keeping an eye on his children when Wickham is abroad on active duty, assisting him in his career, he would do that anyway, professing it is for me because of my sister, but I do think he does it as much for Wickham himself, no matter how much he dislikes him. For he does truly hate him, and yet he cannot cast him off.'

'But before Wickham eloped with your sister he avoided contact with Wickham, didn't he?'

Frederick can see Elizabeth did not consider this before now. Maybe Darcy does only spend time and money on Wickham because Elizabeth is involved.

'You are right. So maybe he will be put out if he finds out Wickham is his half-brother. Likely that isn't even true, apparently Wickham's father did manage to keep his wife away from old Mr Darcy's debaucheries, generally. Or we may never find proof. Even if we do, we can keep it to ourselves.'

'It will be an interesting mystery, Elizabeth, but if I may make a suggestion, you may want to involve Fitzwilliam and Georgiana in your search once you're at Pemberley.'

Her expression is so incredibly shocked that Frederick cannot help laughing heartily, which he didn't feel like at all so far, he was so anxious.

'Dear Elizabeth, I can see what you are thinking: the puppet master, weaving plot inside plot even though he promised us he would desist, urging me to be open? Admit, my dear friend, you are not the right person to be devious, and your beloved does not take well to being excluded from anything you do. If you are honest he will surprise you, I think you will have a great time together looking for secret compartments in pieces of furniture and hidden stashes of letters behind loose floorboards. In fact, I can't wait to join in such a search, and have Simon talk to the elderly staff, even some who have retired a long time ago. You'll be surprise how much they know. But do all this in secret and some of it will come out and make him feel excluded. It may even cause a rift between you.'

'I just wanted to protect him from something that might hurt him.'

'Then leave it be. No-one will profit from knowing, well, maybe Wickham. Of course it will be great fun to find out, but only if you are honest with your beloved. I have a suspicion you cannot even lie to him.'

And indeed, his beautiful companion bows her head and admits, 'I cannot. I don't want to, I love him too much. All right, you are the master of subtleties, if you say 'Be frank' I will. Either I let it go, or we'll all be in it together, Fitzwilliam did enjoy searching his library for something he knew his father had left there. Thank you, Frederick, I have enjoyed our time together, and I hope you feel more secure?'

'I do, dear friend. Thank you for your kindness, Elizabeth, yours and Darcy's.'

And while Elizabeth and Frederick have their intimate talk, Eric tells Darcy all about his visit to Mr Zumpe's showroom and the resulting conciliation. He then asks Darcy whether he can invite his former patron to his wedding. His soon-to-be brother-in-law's reaction is just as his beloved had foreseen.

'Of course you are welcome to invite whomever you want, Fielding. It's your wedding, your day. If Georgie agrees, but I'm certain you've talked to her first.'

'Your sister said exactly the same you just did: if you want him, have him. Mr Zumpe's plight affected her very much, he was so sad, so afflicted. And not just for the loss of his investment, he was sad about losing someone who had been like a son to him. I was thinking of inviting them over for coffee and a concert tomorrow, and if Mr Zumpe's view on events and his attitude towards Georgiana and myself have not changed, invite the family to our wedding. With your permission.'

Darcy lays a hand on Eric shoulder, still very much a familiarity from him since he is usually rather reticent, and observes kindly, 'Good thinking, Eric. You don't want him acting out on your wedding, if he has reverted to his old ways you will find out during a private call. And from what you have just told me, I think Mrs Zumpe will be thrilled to have you all to herself for an hour. She must be so proud of you, to see you in the newspapers all the time. And about to get married to the girl of your dreams. Do you want us to be present, or would you prefer to be all by yourselves?'

'No, please, Darcy, I'd like both you and Elizabeth to be present. I think Mrs Zumpe will be even happier knowing I am living with kind people who want nothing but the best for me.'

Sitting together in Mr Manners' ornate carriage, Nick feels relieved and sorry at the same time to be leaving the Darcy's' house. He is still rather afraid of Mr Darcy, though he kind of likes all the other people, and they seem to really love and admire their relative and host.

'You're mighty quiet, Fowler,' Mr Manners observes calmly, without even a hint of irony. It's just impossible to dislike this man, though he admits to ruthlessly manipulating people when he feels like it. Nick has felt his machinations personally, though so far they have been in his favour.

'I am, Mr Manners. I feel sad about leaving the woman I love, but at the same time I'm very much relieved to be away from under Mr Darcy's critical eye. I fear his anger when he finds out I'm seeing his cousin, I'm very certain he can break me. But everyone in his household really likes him, I guess he is a righteous man and I know I am guilty.'

'He was talking about me when you overheard him. He does not favour my match with Miss de Bourgh, he knows my affections are engaged elsewhere. So you are not the only person to fear his wrath, I do, too, and also because I am guilty. Guilty of trying to lead Miss de Bourgh astray.'

'And be with me. But he cannot break you, you're a rich and influential man.'

'Everyone can be broken, Fowler. Mr Darcy would never take your means of making a living from you, not for loving his cousin, he would never break you, as you say he is a righteous man. But I love him like a brother, and I love his wife, his sister and his cousin as if they are the sisters I never had. My greatest fear is losing their love, for that would surely break me more thoroughly than anything else, even losing my standing in society, would.'

Well, that doesn't help. Now Nick is more afraid than ever, and though the thought of losing Anne makes him desperate enough to risk everything, he still doesn't know how he will ever dare enter Mr Darcy's house again. But he is not going to prove himself a coward to Mr Manners.

'Simon told you about that? But wait...'

As Nick fumbles for words, Mr Manners blanches, as if his downfall has already come.

'..wasn't that supreme hurtful to you? Mr Darcy's words were quite severe, and you say you love him like a brother.'

Strangely enough, Mr Manners seems relieved rather than affected by Nick's blunt statement. Until he frames his reply, then his hurt comes through.

'It is. Simon did hesitate to tell me, but he decided I needed to know I was playing with fire. He advised me to let go of my plan to marry Miss de Bourgh, let sleeping dogs lie. Simon knows Mr Darcy better than I. But I want Miss de Bourgh to be happy, and I want you to be happy, and really, neither of you runs a large risk, if he finds out he will merely try to stop you, but nothing more. He will not expose his cousin. You can lose each other, which is bad enough, but I stand to lose everything, my love but also the regard of the people I love most in this world.'

'Why, Mr Manners, why would you take such a risk?'

'I suppose I cannot help it, I need to plot and scheme or I'm not alive.'

Now he is joking, Nick cannot believe it.

'I stand to gain a lot, Nick, a connection to a respectable family, a family of my own, children, I like Miss Anne and I like you.'

'Will we meet the love of your life before Anne makes a commitment?'

'Of course, my man, of course. But you must understand that I am taking a tremendous risk introducing the two of you. It would put me entirely in your power.'

'It can't be that bad, can it? Wait a minute, so Anne knows her already?'

'Oh yes, Anne knows my beloved. That is not what is keeping her from deciding.'

'What is, Mr Manners?'

'It's living in sin, Nick. She has sinned with you and is not sorry, but to go through life happy because one is sinning, you and I are used to it but she was raised differently. She still wonders whether marrying a gentleman would be so very bad. And of course her family would prefer to see her do that. Those who would certainly not accept her living in sin would never know, her mother, her uncle, Colonel Compton, they'd see her married to a gentleman and they would be very happy. But everyone in Darcy's house will know, and she has to accept their knowing. Miss Darcy will, I think Mrs Darcy will, but Darcy himself? I have no idea.

And even if they do object, she still has a choice: she doesn't need to live with them, she can live with me, I have a magnificent house in town as well as a nice estate. So you see, all is not lost even if you meet with disapproval. And right in time, Fowler, we're here, back at the Blackwood place. Sleep well and try not to worry too much.'

Which is easier said than done, but at least Nick has a few precious memories to cherish before his mind turns back to contemplations.


	107. Chapter 107

Chapter 117

Darcy cannot believe how different Mr Zumpe is from the last time he visited. Chatting easily with Johnson it is obvious this is his true self, Fielding always did say that to his former patron everyone is a potential customer and to be treated with respect. Even a butler apparently. Johnson certainly shows no sign of resentment, either he is a true professional or he doesn't recognise the man without his busby. Which of course is ludicrous, remembering names and faces is his job as a butler, and despite all of them still harbouring a shade of distrust towards Johnson, he certainly does his job very well.

Once well inside the room, Johnson announces, 'Mr and Mrs Zumpe, sir, and Miss Zumpe.'

And indeed, Louise has come as well. She looks much better today, of course there are few ladies who look beautiful while crying their eyes out, and Miss Zumpe is not one of them. But she looks kind of pretty now, and she greets Fielding like a long-lost brother. A lot of hugs and German endearments are exchanged, and then Fielding introduces his surrogate mother to everyone in the room, starting with Elizabeth. Of course. If the love between Georgie and her pianist wasn't tangible, Darcy would be jealous of Fielding's adulation for Elizabeth, but as it is, he understands. Even men who love another with all their hearts must feel her powers. Even Manners does.

Elizabeth greets their guests heartily, she thoroughly approves of this visit.

'Eric will need all the support he can get if he is to keep up his fame and even make it outside London,' she said, and that is certainly true.

'Mr Darcy, I hope you can forgive me for my incredible rudeness last time we met. I assure you that Mrs Zumpe gave me a thorough combing-down about that and I've been heartily ashamed of my misbehaviour.'

Well, he is certainly not a gentleman, addressing Darcy before spoken to, but of course they all knew that. At least his attitude is a grand improvement and his apology quite handsome.

'Thank you, Mr Zumpe, though I remember giving you a hard enough time myself.'

Darcy does not excuse his actions, they were deserved.

'You are indeed quite fearsome when enraged, but I understand now that you were protecting our Eric, who had come to find sanctuary with you. I'm still amazed you have agreed to his engagement to your sister, though I can see they are indeed meant for each other. You have made Eric a very happy man, sir.'

Darcy nods his acceptance, he can think of nothing to say to this man, but he doesn't need to. Mr Zumpe has a wife and a daughter with him, and they certainly deserve a greeting since they are very much impressed by their host. Mrs Zumpe is not an elegant woman, but she looks very kind, and she is certainly very fond of Eric. Darcy can see traces of tears in her eyes, greeting her lost son must have affected her more than a little. He bows slightly and addresses her as kindly as he can.

'Mrs Zumpe, I'm very pleased to meet you. And Louise, you look well. You are very welcome in my house.'

They both manage a smile and a 'Thank you, Mr Darcy,' but that is it. Better leave them to Elizabeth or Georgie.

And especially Georgie exceeds every hope Darcy ever dared have of his sister being host to relative strangers. She says exactly the right things and asks the right questions, Mrs and Miss Zumpe seem to totally forget their fear and chat lively, telling her about Louise's fiancée and when and how they are planning her wedding. Of course they have read the article in the newspaper, and Georgiana merely laughs at their awed descriptions.

'Let me tell you what our wedding will actually be like, only Mr Goodfellow really knows what is going on in this family, the rest of the reporters all make up a bunch of lies.'

And she describes the location and her dress, of course keeping the maker of her dress a secret.

After having coffee together Fielding plays his latest study piece, exactly the kind of work Mr Zumpe likes best, and indeed the man seems almost staggered to hear his former protégé playing something that difficult. And though Darcy is used to hearing him play like this, he is very surprised to hear that Fielding has improved under Mr Clementi's tutelage. Not about the improvement itself, that is why he was so eager for lessons from a master after all. No, Darcy is amazed he can actually hear the difference, it must be significant for him to notice. By his side, Elizabeth pokes him and observes, 'So even you can hear it? They're worth every penny then, those lessons.'

Darcy cannot help whispering back, 'I'm saving a lot on Georgie's lessons by keeping her teacher in my own house. And since he eats hardly anything and drinks no brandy, I may even make a net profit.'

In fact, Fielding and Mr Clementi exchange lessons, though it's clear the old master has more to teach Fielding than the other way around. So a moderate fee is going to the Italian virtuoso, but much less than one might expect. And Georgie is also profiting from the connection. Fielding has offered to pay for his own lessons from the proceeds of his concerts, but Darcy prefers they invest that to settle on, should they want a house of their own some day.

Since this is not a real concert, but a way for Fielding to make his surrogate mother happy, he does not play a balanced repertory, but chooses to play the next pieces with Georgie, their quatre mains, their love songs, even a few folk songs and dances. But of course he has to finish with his own work, and he brings his latest composition, with an addition Darcy has not heard before. When he is done, even Mr Zumpe applauds sincerely.

Then they talk some more, and Mr Zumpe observes, 'This is not your piano, Eric, I hope you still have it?'

'Indeed, this is Miss Darcy's, a fine instrument, my own piano is in my private quarters. I would never sell it, Mr Zumpe, I am very much attached to it, it has a special quality that no other brand can give my music.'

'Which is why Mr Clementi wanted one for himself. I understand now. I accompanied my men when they delivered the instrument he chose, and he received me very beautifully. Played some of his own pianos for me, they are magnificent instruments, I am so proud he wanted one of mine anyway. It looked very pretty among his collection, I'm certain it will be used well. Of course he couldn't demonstrate mine, it needed to rest and a thorough tuning.

Which reminds me, Miss Darcy, how quickly and neatly you tuned that little black instrument in my showroom. It is still perfectly in tune, I'm so thankful to you. Were you very disappointed that Mr Clementi chose a different instrument?'

Georgie replies graciously, 'Indeed not, Mr Zumpe, the piano Mr Clementi chose fits much better among his other instruments. Placing a small, plain square piano among those jewels would have made a bad impression for your business, Mr Clementi chose well. Though I still love it, Mr Zumpe, that brave little piano, holding up among the large ornate ones.'

'So you will be sorry to hear it is no longer for sale?'

Poor Georgie, she had set her sights on that little thing, but she bears up magnificently.

'Indeed I am, I was hoping to save up to buy it. But as long as it has a good home, where it will be played regularly and kept in good tune, I guess that will have to do.'

'I'm sorry to hear that, Miss Darcy, if I had known I would have saved it for you. But someone fell in love with it and it was clear from the start that little instrument was made for them.'

'I guess we have plenty of instruments, Mr Zumpe, and I know Eric really wants a Clementi. But I really thought this little piano would travel well, enabling Eric to take the special mournful sound with him.'

Mr Zumpe nods in understanding, then changes the subject slightly by asking, 'May I take a really good look at your harpsichord, Miss Darcy? It seems like a rather old and valuable specimen. You know I started out as maker of harpsichords, don't you?'

'Of course you may, with pleasure. We found it in the attic, it was probably acquired by one of my ancestors.'

The chubby man has a similar ritual as Fielding, stroking the wood, examining the interior, testing the keys, though of course he doesn't conclude by playing it, but instead moves straight to the place where the maker's mark should be.

'You ancestors had great taste, Miss Darcy, though it must have been your grandfather who bought this, or at most his father. It's not very old, but it's a very good instrument, made by the eldest of the Dulcken family, from Flanders. Do you still play harpsichord, Eric?'

'We both do, Mr Zumpe. I've written a duet for piano and harpsichord in the Renaissance style. I'll play some Bach for you, and will you play our duet with me, Georgiana?'

That makes their guest very happy, he started out building harpsichords and it is clear he still loves their unique sound. Fielding's virtue on the little instrument is incredible, though Darcy cannot imagine Mr Clementi's lessons extending to this outdated instrument. Maybe his style helps with playing a harpsichord. Or maybe Fielding was this good already and Darcy never noticed, maybe it's his hearing that is starting to pick things up more and more. When Fielding finishes, Mr Zumpe is in tears.

'Hearing a harpsichord always reminds me of my youth, my mother used to play ours every evening, I used to love those little instrument so, but the piano-forte is so popular these days I'm afraid they will soon become obsolete. Like myself. Louise's fiancée is always proposing new materials and techniques, and I feel left behind.'

Georgie puts a hand on Mr Zumpe's shoulder and says frankly, 'But it's not his instrument that the famous Mr Clementi bought, is it? It's yours. Romantic music will make your pianos popular, Mr Zumpe, and of course your son-in-law will modernise, that is what young people do, but the sound will remain the same, for that is what makes your pianos unique.'

She is really making herself popular with the strange little man, and as if to emphasise her empathy she takes place at the keyboard of the harpsichord while Fielding sits at the piano. They pick out the right music sheets, and start to play their powerful Renaissance duet, the impossible combination of piano and harpsichord. It has been a while since they played that, and Darcy finds himself really glad to hear it again. And when they end that piece, it's time to say goodbye to their guests, and Fielding drops the question.

'Mrs Zumpe, Mr Zumpe, Louise, will you please consider attending our wedding come Wednesday? I know it's a bit late to ask, but we will both be very glad if you can come.'

All three are stunned, and Mrs Zumpe finds her voice first.

'Yes, my dear son, there is nothing I would like to do more. To see you married to this lovely lady will be the best thing that can happen until Louise stands before the altar. But won't we feel a bit out of place among Miss Darcy's noble connections?'

'I have only a very few noble connections, Mrs Zumpe,' Georgie replies with humour, 'and half of those refuse to attend my wedding to a cowherd's son. I think you will like Eric's new friends, and they all love music, so they will be perfect companions for you and especially Mr Zumpe.'

'Miss Darcy is teasing you, Mrs Zumpe,' Eric says, laughing. 'In fact, we do not expect that many guests. Mrs Darcy's father and two of her sisters and their husbands, Miss Darcy's brother, of course, and her uncle and cousins, Miss de Bourgh and Mr Manners, and the friends Miss Darcy just mentioned. Maybe some more relatives I've never even met. Only her uncle is an eminent noble, but he is very kind. Please come. And bring your fiancée, Louise, there will be dancing.'

Though Mrs Zumpe still looks a bit doubtful, and Miss Zumpe seems ready to faint, Mr Zumpe clearly likes rubbing shoulders with the gentry, and he accepts happily.

'We will be there, Eric. I wish we could polish our manners a little, but I suppose being polite will have to do.'

'It will, Mr Zumpe,' Georgie says with determination, 'and if you have any doubts, just ask our housekeeper Simon, he is the handsome young fellow in the stunning livery. He knows everything about good manners. He will be around.'

'I think I remember him. The one with the cookies? He didn't strike me as particularly well-mannered.'

'That's our Simon. Just because he knows everything there is to know about etiquette doesn't mean he always sticks to it himself. Everything will be just fine, Mr Zumpe, Eric and I will be very happy to have you show up and enjoy yourselves.'

And she even means it, Darcy can hear it in her voice. Dear Georgie, she will make such an excellent partner for Fielding, wherever his talent and ambitions may lead them.

The next day, Eric has no concert planned for it's Georgiana's seventeenth birthday and they are expecting some guests. Only seventeen! Whenever he thinks about their difference in age, Eric is still a bit troubled. But Darcy is as much older than Elizabeth, and it doesn't really show. They are both so lucky to have found women, girls actually, who have as much or more sense before coming of age than most people will ever gain. And Kitty is already married, she's not that much older than Georgiana. Frankly, Eric would have preferred to wait until Georgiana was eighteen, but with all the adulation directed at him it was so much wiser to be irrevocable married. And now it is getting ever more likely that they will indeed go to Vienna for a year, to study with a famous master and try to bring his compositions to the attention of the good people there. They will need to be married to be together without chaperone.

All the talk about travelling, Frederick plans to go overseas as well, but he has no clue how uncomfortable and dangerous that can be. There will be some very rough areas to cross, and though Frederick can undoubtedly stand up for himself in any civilised society, some of the places Eric has been would not be called civilised by a gentleman. Better they all take the time to learn to ride well and shoot a rifle accurately, and with all the talk about that Blackwood retainer being on the lookout for a new job, maybe Frederick or Simon should ask him to demonstrate his skills in a hand-to-hand fight. With Georgiana along, they can use a sturdy guard. Too bad that little black piano has been sold, it would have been perfect to take along with them. Not that it would make it at all easier to guard their party, but it would give Eric the certainty his compositions would always have the strongest impact. Georgiana was very disappointed, she couldn't believe someone had wanted to buy the dull-looking instrument.

'At least someone must really love it, to bleed for it,' she said, and then they had moved on to discussing which of Mr Clementi's prize pianos would look best in the London house, and whether to move the Buntebart out to make way for it.

'Maybe we should ask Fitzwilliam for a music room after all,' she offered, 'or do you want to look for a house of our own?'

'I know Mr Clementi offered a special price, Georgiana, but I'm afraid even so there will be little enough left of our savings after we've paid for the piano. We'll not be able to afford a house.'

'You do realise that once we're married, my fortune is yours, Eric?'

She sounds mild, even trusting. But Eric is horrified.

'I'm not going to spend any of your money, Georgiana! I thought you were going to invest that soundly? Do you want a house of your own? Do you think your brother wants us to move out? Frankly, I like living here. We still have so much to learn, and I'd miss everyone so much. Darcy, Elizabeth, but Simon and Frederick, too, and Anne. Even Mrs Annesley. And Mr and Mrs Bingley, and the Gardiners, I suppose they won't have to accompany us anymore once we're married, but I liked having them along, I'll miss them, too.'

Georgiana sounds almost like a mother as she says soothingly, 'Of course Fitzwilliam wants us to stay. And I prefer to stay, I'd be very much afraid to live without his guidance, yet, you are right, we do have a lot to learn. But we have to work towards being independent, Eric, we cannot always rely on Fitzwilliam or Frederick. I suppose we'd better start being smart right away and not buy a new piano then, for I don't want you to spend all the money you earned on an instrument.'

She is right. They should not start their life together by making a purchase they don't really need and cannot really afford. Eric can feel the corners of his mouth pull into a grin, and he embraces Georgiana and says, 'Our first sensible decision together, Georgiana, and we're not even married, yet. There is still hope for us!'

After lunch they receive some guests, Earl Compton has brought his eldest son Spencer, a pleasant plain-faced man in his early thirties. Eric can see the resemblance to the colonel, but it is clear neither son has the forcefulness that so characterizes the Earl himself and Darcy as well. Apparently Lady Catherine, the Earl's sister and Darcy and Georgiana's aunt, has it in an even greater measure. But the army must have given the colonel a certain air of self-assurance, for at first glance Lord Spencer seems even more sensitive and totally under his father's wings. No wonder the Earl used to dote on his late wife, she must have been very mild tempered to have two sons that are so different from their father. Though the colonel has the responsibility over a thousand soldiers, and Lord Spencer will inherit his father's estate and title. There must be a very firm core to both men.

Even before the introductions, congratulations and greetings are done with, the colonel himself arrives, in the company of Miss Sophie Blackwood! Eric revises his opinion of the colonel even more towards the army man being rather brave, to take her to a birthday celebration before having introduced her to his own family, as far as Eric knows their engagement has not been made public yet, but maybe the colonel wrote to his father already. This will be a very interesting afternoon indeed!

From that moment on, things get very busy. Mr Bennet arrives, the sole inhabitant of Longbourn to have been invited to Georgiana's birthday and to her wedding, for some reason Georgiana has a thing for the sarcastic old man and she insisted on inviting him. Not that Eric disagrees, he is nice enough. Johnson announces Mr and Mrs Gardiner, without their children this time. Apparently the little ones find these social gatherings boring, and of course there are no other children to play with.

Then Simon brings Mr and Mrs Bingley to the drawing-room, in the company of an immaculately if rather revealingly dressed tall woman with dark hair and a lofty expression. Eric has no idea who this may be, but one thing is very clear: Georgiana does not like her at all. She is hiding her dismay wonderfully, but Eric knows her better than anyone, this is an unpleasant surprise for his beloved, and on her birthday!

But she takes Eric's hand resolutely and steps forward to greet her brother's friend, Elizabeth's sister and the unwelcome guest. And with an artfully friendly voice that Eric has never heard before, fortunately, dear Georgiana says, 'Caroline, such a surprise to see you! It's been such a long time, and so much has happened!'

Georgiana really dislikes this woman, and the woman clearly doesn't take her seriously at all, she talks to Georgiana as if she is some kind of child. But her affection for Georgiana seems real.

'Dear Georgiana, we have indeed been very busy, Cuthbert and I, we're so happy together. He was very sorry he couldn't join me, but well...'

Cuthbert, the name does ring a bell. Hadn't Georgiana and Elizabeth been laughing heartily over Will and Cuthbert a day or so ago? Cuthbert, Bertie, that's it! Mrs Grenfell! This is Mr Bingley's sister, who chased Darcy for years and ended up marrying Frederick's handsome but uncivilised friend.

'I'm glad you are happy,' Georgiana quickly intercedes, 'let me introduce you to my fiancée, Mr Eric Fielding. Eric, Mrs Grenfell is Bingley's younger sister, she used to spend months on end at Pemberley with both our brothers. Mrs Grenfell, Mr Fielding and I cannot wait to be married ourselves.'

Now if Georgiana is to be believed, Mrs Grenfell is about the meanest person in the world, so he'd better brace himself for a scathing remark on his person.

'Mr Fielding, so good to finally see you, you're as handsome as I imagined! You see my maid visited one of your concerts a few days ago and she told me you were the most handsome man she had ever seen. Of course she used have a crush on Mr Darcy's valet. It seems you and your music are very popular out there.'

And she makes a negligent gesture with her head, sweeping Eric's acclaimed talent and the looks that dozens of girls from all classes have sleepless nights about right out of the closest window. She ís mean! But Georgiana is not the child Mrs Grenfell knew and adored.

'And so they are, Mrs Grenfell,' she says in that sweet but oh so dangerous tone of voice, 'girls everywhere fall at his feet in adulation. But he couldn't care less. He loves only me.'

Suddenly, Eric understands why a man might be nervous at his wedding. Who would have thought Georgiana has such poison in her tongue? But she is generally very sweet. Eric cannot help spending a few thoughts on poor Grenfell, suspecting his wife's tongue is always this sharp. Still, Mrs Grenfell admits defeat and merely repeats, 'Very pleased to meet you, Mr Fielding,' then rushes back to Mrs Bingley's side.

'Routed for now, but she will be back for a rematch,' Georgiana tells him, 'how dare Bingley bring her along, it's my birthday!'

'I suppose he doesn't know you dislike his sister intensely, my love. Did you ever tell him?'

'Of course not, she's his sister, he loves her.'

'Well there you are, he doesn't know. And Mrs Bingley isn't going to tell him, she loves him. She probably has a lot more to bear from Mrs Grenfell. And honestly, my love, she did seem to like you. Though in a condescending way.'

'But she insulted you! If she likes me, why would she do that?'

'I'm sorry to say she probably doesn't even notice how offensive her observations are. Or she thinks lowborn people have no feelings. Who knows what people think?'

'You don't mind?'

'Of course I mind people being offensive, but you warned me Mrs Grenfell was the meanest person you knew, I was prepared. And you took instant revenge. But it is your birthday and you shouldn't have to bear with meanness today. Here, let me kiss you to make up for it.'

On the other side of the drawing-room, Anne has greeted her uncle and cousin Spencer with great pleasure. Spencer looks at her as if she has sprouted horns and a tail, which is quite annoying because they used to be very close. He knows what his cousin looks like, doesn't he?

'Anne, is that really you?' he asks softly, not to be charming, but in real, affected, amazement.

'You've changed so much, last time I saw you... you're so beautiful, Anne! And look at your dress!'

Of course, he remembers her tired and worn and frightfully thin. He takes both her hands and seems ready to kiss them in adulation, but Anne won't have it. She takes him in a bear hug instead, they used to be so close, Spencer, Fitzwilliam, Darcy and herself. She was always one of the boys to them.

Her cousin's hug is as intimate as ever his brother's were, and he whispers in her ear, 'Papa told me what happened, but I didn't expect this. I'm so glad you're better, and I'm so sorry I never tried to reach out to you. All those years, Anne, lost forever.'

Anne swallows hard, but she cannot blame anyone for what happened, besides her mother. Which is why she merely says frankly, 'You cannot help any of it, Spencer. I'm happy now, I'm making up for lost time by living life to the fullest. How is Penny?'

'I'm glad you're happy now, Anne, it shows. Penny is fine, but she didn't dare travel anymore, it's so cold and it can be so tiring. She sleeps a lot, the midwife says it cannot be long now, a few weeks at the most. She sends her love.'

'And you will kiss her for me, won't you? Imagine Spencer becoming a father, I still see you as a boy skipping stones in uncle Richard's lake.'

'I know, I can hardly believe it myself, though when I look in the mirror I realise it's high time I had an heir, I'm not getting any younger. You did, though. Say, what's with little brother's girl, is she any good, do you know her well? He wrote they met through your introduction?'

'True, I introduced them, and Mr Manners introduced me to her and her sister. She's one of twins, you see. You know about...?'

'His being in love with a certain lady who is now part of the family? Yes, he told me. I met her once, at their wedding. This girl seems a little less... how would you call it? Sophisticated?'

'Sophie is certainly less pretty and less smart. But Spencer, Darcy waited for the love of his life for ten years! I'm pretty sure Fitzwilliam didn't wait at all.'

Her cousin is shocked to hear such innuendo from his little cousin's lips, but Anne doesn't feel the slightest shame to tell him all of her thoughts. One of the boys, that is who she used to be.

'Sophie Blackwood is very sweet, a lot smarter than she looks, and she has ten thousand to her name. I'm very certain she will make your little brother very happy. Mrs Darcy needs someone to challenge her mind, and Darcy can give her as good as he gets. You will not recognise him either, Spencer, he has changed immensely.'

Her cousin nods in understanding, he knows Darcy needs a woman who can handle his dominant character.

'And you, my dear cousin, I guess you need your mind challenged as well? Has the notorious bachelor Mr Manners really offered to keep you on your toes?'

'He has indeed, but I have not decided, yet. We like each other a whole lot, but we're not exactly madly in love. He has given me time to consider marrying a man who will respect me and offer me a chance to join him in society, instead of waiting for the right one to fall deeply and madly in love with. It's not for everyone, you know, and I'm not getting any younger. Nor do I want to risk handing over my money to some smirking fellow, then becoming a captive in my own house again, with nothing more than children and needlework to occupy my time. I want to celebrate life, and he certainly offers me the chance to do that.'

'Good for you, Anne, I'm certain you will make the right choice. You say he doesn't love you, but are you absolutely certain? He does keep an eye on you all the time. Some men just don't show their love clearly, you know.'

'Well, maybe he does. And I certainly have a certain affection for him, if we do get married that may yet deepen. We'll see, his offer stands, he is like Darcy, he has been waiting for a long time.'

Fitzwilliam and Sophie now approach them, and Anne's young friend makes a very good impression when she is introduced to her soon-to-be brother. First Anne receives a look of pleased surprise from Spencer, and then a conspiratorial one from Sophie, who uses the moment in which her companion inquires after his brother's wife and coming child to whisper to Anne, 'Papa insisted I take Nick along, since the colonel and I are merely engaged. I promised to tell you he's here, though papa seems to think he is eager to meet up with Dora. I didn't tell him Nick is actually in love with you, he'd be shocked, even angry at Nick's presumption. Will you go see him, Anne? Just a few moments? He'd be so happy. He still hasn't had any ladies over, you know, though very few have given up on him.'

Does Sophie think Nick is some kind of dog, happy with a few kind words and a pat over the head? She seems to have no clue about what is really happening between Anne and Nick. Fortunately.

'I will try, Sophie, but you know it's not exactly proper for me to be seen in the servants' quarters. I'll have to sneak and hope no-one catches me.'

'I forgot things are different here. Cook would never tell on me, nor would Felicity or the new butler. He's a right treasure, Felicity says she may be in love.'

'I'll try, Sophie, if you think it makes Nick happy.'

'Oh, yes, he has been much happier the last week, even though he has to accompany Angelina everywhere with Ensign Stockford. Papa trusts the colonel and lets us go everywhere without Nick. Just not to this house, because he thinks Nick is hopelessly in love with Dora. Imagine tagging along with Angelina and her dashing young officer.'

Anne can imagine it, and also that Mr Blackwood is more inclined to trust Sophie than Angelina, not just the gentlemen involved.

'You are making my cousin very happy, Sophie, I think I have never seen him as carefree as this, except when we were still children.'

By now the brothers are done discussing Spencer's upcoming fatherhood, and Fitzwilliam turns towards Anne with sparkling eyes. 'You were so right Anne, thank you so much for introducing me to Miss Sophie. I can't wait to introduce her to Darcy and Mrs Darcy. You look very happy yourself, is it true what the papers say, that you are engaged to Mr Manners?'

Anne cannot believe the impact of an article in such a paper! One would think Fitzwilliam at least would read a more dependable one.

'Do you mind? Mr Blackwood told me about it, I didn't read it. I can see you do mind, so I suppose it's not true?'

'Mr Manners asked me to consider a union, Fitzwilliam, and I am contemplating his offer. But it is not a decided thing, and neither of us talked to a reporter. They did make up a bunch of lies. Wait until you see Georgiana's dress, you'll know it is all cheap fantasies. Darcy and Mr Manners release whatever they want the papers to know through a Mr Goodfellow, he is the only one who knows the truth. As far as they want it known. If he writes about my engagement you'll know it's true, but I will certainly try to send word to you and uncle Spencer before we tell a reporter.'

'But Anne, if you don't love Mr Manners you shouldn't marry him! I'm certain Lieutenant Talbot is very much in love with you. So much so I regret asking him to accompany you, I only meant for the two of you to have a good time together. I suspected Mr Manners of having an interest in you and I like him very much. But you know there must be a man you can truly love.'

Yes there is. But that one she cannot marry.

'I like Lieutenant Talbot, Fitzwilliam, but I do not love him. And he has certain ideas of how a married woman should behave, sit at home and have children, you know. I don't want that. I've lost the best years of my life to my mother's foolishness, I do not want to give the rest to some man, no matter how much he adores my beauty. Mr Manners offers me the life I want, in the thick of society. I'm tempted, very much so. And if we do get married, we may have that dream wedding from the newspaper. And a honeymoon in Vienna.'

Before Anne can tell Fitzwilliam too much her uncle closes in, obviously eager to talk to her. Fitzwilliam smiles and squeezes her hand, then takes Sophie to Darcy and Elizabeth, who are talking to someone Anne doesn't know, and whom neither her cousin nor Elizabeth seem to like, though they hide it reasonably well. A tall, fashionably dressed woman with a haughty expression, whoever can that be?

'You look lovely, Anne, I'm so glad Fitzwilliam proposed getting you away from Rosings. Spencer almost didn't recognise you, did he? Despite what happened, my dear, may I tell you about my sister? She was devastated by what the London doctor said caused your indisposition. She really wants to see you and try to make up for the hurt she cost you.'

'But not until you took her to task for it, uncle. We have a double spy in her household and I know she nearly killed him when he reported something she didn't like to hear. Threatened me, too, and sent that bully, just before you told her doctor Parker's verdict. She may be your sister, but she is no longer my mother.'

'So you heard from Mr Collins.'

Anne is disappointed with her uncle trying to put as good as possible a face on her mother's betrayal, but she does not want to antagonize him and decides to loosen up the conversation with a little humour.

'We know him as Will these days.'

'Will? Mr Collins is known as Will these days? Hahaha, that sounds like a ruggedly handsome highwayman, not a submissive preacher. He was a sad sight, though, I gave your mother a piece of my mind about her treatment of him as well, and forced her to be nice to the only person who truly likes her.'

'I'm sorry uncle, but no more, she ruined that as well. His wife says your sister broke him, reduced him to total servility, reminding him of his father's abuse. He cannot like her anymore, his will is broken, pun not intended. He obeys her out of fear now, when he used to truly adore her. She forced him to betray his family, then took him to pieces when he returned to report. I feel sorry for him, he did some despicable things to please her. Can't you save him from her? His wife is Elizabeth's best friend.'

'I feel for him, Anne, but he is all your mother has left. I can't take him away from her, she will be all alone! I had hoped you would relent, or Darcy. I know she has treated all of you badly, but she is still my sister!'

'Well, you go visit her, uncle Spencer. Maybe you can convince her to take on a lady companion. I'm done with her and I've advised Darcy to wait until she contacts him.'

'He would speak to her if she did that?'

'I think so, yes. He was almost ready to write to her but I convinced him not to. Your sister needs a lesson, and a winter by herself may teach even her to improve her manners. She owes Darcy an apology, it is her task to initiate contact, not the other way around.'

'And Mrs Darcy? Is she still ruffled? Your mother did say she regretted using such strong words, when she is now such a respected member of society.'

'Elizabeth doesn't care about Lady Catherine. She won't care about her changing her mind either. If Darcy wants to make up she will go along, if not, it suits her just as well. She only cares about her friend, who had to pull her husband out of the depths of despair and see him more submissive than he may ever recover from.'

'I'll think about it, Anne, if a comparable living to what they have with Catherine becomes available on my estate I'll consider Will.'

Uncle Spencer is as close to laughter as he ever gets. 'But mind you, I don't guarantee anything, I want to try to work on Catherine first. We've picked up writing, I felt sorry for her, maybe I can influence her a little towards making up with Will and his wife. She was mighty pleased with the news that you are engaged to Mr Manners. I've replied that her paper must be making things up since I was sure to receive the first notice, which I hope is true?'

'Of course, uncle, if Frederick and I decide to make a match of it, you and Fitzwilliam will be the first to know outside this house. Have you met his little lady yet?'

'Of course, I saw her at her father's house, remember? She seems much improved, I thought her rather adolescent. She's just nineteen, isn't she?'

'I forgot you saw her at the Blackwoods'. She is indeed just nineteen, but uncle, Mrs Darcy is twenty, it's not always age that matters. Georgiana doesn't seem like seventeen at all, she has grown so calm and wise I can hardly remember the shy girl she used to be. And Miss Sophie is singularly sweet.'

'That she is. But did you just tell me Mr Manners indeed proposed marriage to you? The Mr Manners? The bachelor of bachelors?'

'He asked me to consider a union, yes. And I'm thinking of accepting, I like him and I like his offer. I don't want to wait for the perfect man to fall deeply and madly in love with, then find out he was only looking for a fortune. I'd rather have a man I can respect and who respects me, and who offers me an exciting life in the midst of society.'

'But Anne, you are surrounded with people who married for love, you know how unhappy your father was in his marriage, aren't you afraid you will lose something if you marry rationally?'

Dear uncle Spencer, he had loved his Alice so much. But his youngest sister, Anne's namesake, married Mr Richard Darcy for love, and her husband turned out a philanderer.

'Of course I might, but love doesn't always turn out right either. But it is the reason I'm still contemplating, and Mr Manners is willing to wait until I am ready to make a decision I am happy with.'

'Well, my dear, I wish you all the best luck with your decision, he seems a very decent man and he has an excellent reputation. I will not write about you to Catherine, she can write to you herself if she wishes to hear news from you. I'll talk to Darcy, and his lovely lady, see what they have to say. And Anne, I'm sorry I didn't tell the truth straight away. I felt so sorry for Catherine, but you are right, she does need to gain some compassion for others, and suffering loneliness may be the best way. See you later, my dear.'

And they part, Anne seeking out Frederick to ask who the strange lady is, and uncle Spencer to greet his cousin, the birthday-girl.


	108. Chapter 108

Chapter 118

Frederick is very pleased to find Anne seeking him out, and after talking to her cousins and uncle, Anne is very conscious of the advantages a match between the two of them would offer her. She feels as safe with Frederick as with her male relatives, and on top of that she knows he takes her even more seriously. Frederick respects her choices, even if they are not proper for a woman of her class. For any woman, frankly.

'Meeting family is always good for a few disturbing realisations, don't you think? Which is why I have more or less avoided mine ever since I discovered certain unacceptable preferences in myself. Are you all right, Anne?'

'You are so right. I love them and I want them to approve of me, but I want to be taken seriously as well. You give me so much respect, Frederick.'

He merely nods in acknowledgement, but she can see he is a little affected. To lighten up the mood, she is in an excellent humour after all, she asks, 'Who is the tall woman no-one seems to like?'

Apparently that is just the right thing to say, for his face almost splits in a broad grin. Then his expression changes to shrewdness and he says, 'That, my dear Miss de Bourgh, is the brand-new Mrs Grenfell.'

And of course everything she has heard the last weeks falls into place instantly.

'Bingley's sister? Married to the..' and she whispers, 'rapist? Your college friend?'

He nods, a little guiltily, but not very much so. Mostly, he seems pretty satisfied with the outcome of the marriage he more or less arranged.

'Prepare to be insulted, I'm going to introduce you. She does not like me, but her husband's respect for me borders on fear so she will try to be polite. And fail, most likely. She cannot be anything but mean these days. How intimate may I be? We're reputed to be engaged already, but I suppose you don't want to confirm that to a compulsive gossip?'

'You be as familiar as you always are, Frederick, she knows you, doesn't she? It will make her wonder how much is your usual familiarity, and how much is love. Or eagerness to inherit Rosings. Let her ponder.'

Frederick is very, very pleased with her reply.

'I am yours to command, Miss de Bourgh, I admire you so much. I can't wait to see what fault Mrs Grenfell will find with you.'

He takes her arm and marches straight towards Mrs Grenfell, who is trying not to look forlorn in a group of people who either don't like her or don't know her. For a very short moment, Anne feels sorry for her. And then a haughty gaze comes bearing down on her, looking for faults no doubt, and looking again. Anne does her own share of looking, if it comes to haughty behaviour she has had the best example all her life, and she knows she outranks this woman. Mrs Grenfell is at least her own age, and dressed charmingly and expensively, but something about her dress is off. Is it too revealing for her status as married woman? No, Anne doesn't care about propriety that much. It's not her dress, it's her figure, Mrs Grenfell is starting to grow a little heavy on top, like Anne's mother only less so, of course, she's half her age, but still it is not flattering in today's fashion. Without the low waist and heavy skirts of her mother's time, a heavy bosom and a little extra weight are difficult to hide.

'Mr Manners, such a pleasure to see a familiar face! And if I may believe what the paper says, this must be Miss de Bourgh.'

Well, if she wants to make an impression in London she will have to brush up on her etiquette. There is no excuse for addressing a gentleman of Mr Manners' standing before spoken to. Despite his familiarity, Frederick is always treated with the utmost respect by his peers.

'I would advise you to always treat what you read in the society pages of any paper, not just that one, with a certain reserve. But in one thing you are right, this is indeed Miss de Bourgh. Anne, this is Mrs Grenfell, Bingley's youngest sister.'

Of course his use of her first name puzzles Mrs Grenfell, and again she speaks first. Gushes actually.

'Such a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss de Bourgh. Your cousin and I used to be very close and he sometimes mentioned you, though I would never have recognised you from his description. You are so beautiful, no wonder you have caught the attention of the society reporters. I'm certain you will be the next first lady of the beau monde, your dress is so...perfect, and Mrs Darcy doesn't look at all like those raving reviews in the paper.'

Elizabeth is indeed dressed for a quiet party at home, her gown is as beautiful as ever, but her hair is done in a simple style and she is wearing little jewellery and no make-up at all. Anne knows both Elizabeth and Darcy prefer it that way, and to Anne she still looks fabulous. But Dora is out of her senses having Fanny back in the house, and she insisted on trying out some of the tips Elizabeth's adored maid gave her, making Anne look as if she is about to go to a court ball. Still her dress is from the little shop Elizabeth discovered, and even Anne's lovely necklace is one Elizabeth brought her as a gift from Newcastle, saying with a big wink, 'Don't those stones look just like real sapphires? They're glass, Anne, can you believe it? Fitzwilliam wanted to bring you a teaspoon with one of these stones, but that would have been just ludicrous. This is way more useful, you can wear it to your fairytale wedding.'

As if hinting that Anne's sense of style is better than Elizabeth's will please Anne, it is just ridiculous, and rather despicable. In the short time they have known each other, Elizabeth has done so much for Anne, and they have become so close. Anne cannot wait to deepen their acquaintance, hopefully ending up in a solid friendship.

'As soon as Miss Darcy is married, I wouldn't wonder if we will rarely see Mr and Mrs Darcy in public again. You will be a worthy successor, Anne, though I think Mrs Darcy has one more surprise in store for the society reporters before she retires.'

Frederick can be very dignified when he wants to, but though Mrs Grenfell looks positively curious, she says loftily, 'Speaking of retirement, Mr Manners, when she heard of my planning to visit dear Georgiana for her birthday, Cuthbert's mother insisted I ask you not to forget your promise to take her to one of Mr Fielding's concerts. Did you really promise to take her to a concert, the old bat? Rather you than I, I say. Anyway, I did as she asked. Did you know she has an acre of garden around her house? An acre! Cuthbert virtually beggared himself to get rid of her. I had her garden ploughed and seeded so she can never be tempted to move back in, even if she gets lonely. We'll have a real live hermit, Miss de Bourgh, Cuthbert is looking for a really smart one, who actually has something sensible to say.'

According to the in-house gossip, dear Cuthbert is not exactly qualified to separate the smart from the not-so-smart, but then, he did go to college with Frederick, so he must know something.

'I will certainly invite Mrs Grenfell senior for the concert I promised her, and I think I can do a little better still. And since there is no better time than the present, Mrs Grenfell, Anne, I'd like to excuse myself for a few moments to talk to Earl Compton.'

Fortunately Mrs Grenfell does not expect Anne to entertain her without her supposed fiancée and moves back to her brother and sister-in-law, who are chatting with Mr Bennet. Though Anne would like to listen in on Mr Bennet's reaction to Mrs Grenfell, the knowledge that Nick is in the house is starting to distract her, and she decides to investigate. Everyone is busy talking or playing cards, Georgiana is playing the piano for cousin Spencer, Frederick is indeed talking with her uncle, whatever did he mean by doing more than he promised for old Mrs Grenfell? Well, Anne is planning to visit every single concert from now on, just to store up on society before a long summer of country living, so she will find out eventually. It is very clear he is planning something, another scheme.

Leaving the drawing-room is not remarkable, the privy is in the right direction and no-one will think twice finding her anywhere in between. Before she reaches the right turnoff, someone grabs her hand and pulls her into a window-seat. Hidden behind a thick curtain, the window cold against her back, Nick takes her in his arms and kisses her intensely. Shocked and delighted, Anne doesn't even protest the risk of discovery, she loves the excitement, it makes her feel truly alive, and they embrace and kiss again, with even more heat.

'Simon offered his room, he's busy with all the guests, as are all the others. I'll go first, see you in five minutes?'

And he is off without waiting for a reply, he knows what she will do, she wants him as much as he wants her. Five minutes take forever when one is counting them, and when Anne finally peeps through the curtains to see whether the coast is clear, her eyes are used to the relative dark of the hall and she can see someone approaching. A tall, feminine shape, not Georgiana, she wasn't wearing feathers, so it has to be...Mrs Grenfell? Keeping perfectly still and controlling her breathing, Anne watches the tall shape glide past her hide-out, towards the servants' quarters, and inside! Anne knows this house perfectly, she has done her share of sneaking after all, and she dares to follow almost on Mrs Grenfell's heels, there are two more nooks to hide in between the door and where she is now. But Mrs Grenfell is not lost, she does not return. Of course she has been here before, she used to be good friends with Darcy.

Sneaking through the door, always perfectly oiled by Simon, in total silence, Anne reaches Simon's room without meeting Mrs Grenfell. She cannot follow her all the way to the common-room or wherever she is going, but Nick can. Quickly, she enters Simon's room, to be caught in a solid crush against Nick's broad chest, and she takes a minute to relish his closeness. But curiosity wins.

'I just saw Mrs Grenfell sneak inside the servants' quarters, Nick, you have to warn Simon, she cannot be up to anything good. I cannot be seen here, but you can. Will you, please? And then come back here?'

'I'd do anything for you, my love. Is she very dangerous?'

'Not physically, but she can flay you with words. I suppose Simon knows her, he can handle her. Darcy doesn't like her, frankly, no-one seems to. But she has a purpose here and we need to find out what that is.'

With a kiss, Nick is on his way out, his livery as smart and as neat as ever. Again, time slows down to a crawl, Anne listens at the door but she hears nothing. Then Nick returns, laughing. He hasn't been away for more than five minutes but he looks as if he has a story to tell. Before telling her anything, however, he invites Anne on the bed and takes her in his arms. She settles against his side, perfectly at home once again.

'Now tell me, please, I'm dying of curiosity!'

He laughs, such a magnificent sound after his rather hopeless attitude while he was secretly staying over, and says, 'It was quite a spectacle. I went straight to the common-room, saw the lady talking to Dora, but no Simon in sight, just the Earl's driver and Brave Bob chatting. I guessed things were too busy for Simon to be in the study, so I went to the storage space and found him contemplating table-cloths. Simon is truly the only man I know with an opinion on table-cloths.

I told him about the unknown lady in the common-room, and he thanked me and went over straight away. I eavesdropped shamelessly, I wanted to go back to you but I knew you'd want to know what happened right away. Simon addressed the lady without the slightest hesitation, he is a brave man, Dora went back to what she had been doing, some needlework, and I heard Simon tell the lady that Mrs Darcy's maid was busy in the scullery since there were guests and the cook had requested her help. She tried to pull rank on him, called him insolent and threatened to have him dismissed, but he didn't move a muscle, merely said coolly he'd have to have Mr Darcy's permission to disturb a maid from a duty assigned to her by the cook since that worthy outranked him. Then she demanded to talk to the cook, and when he came out of the kitchen beyond irritation, I mean, he was busy making dinner for twenty-odd people including the staff and I suppose Simon never told him it was a lady guest asking for him, she took one look at him and thanked him, then went back to her side of the house without further comment. I merely stepped aside to let her pass, she gave me as much notice as I'd give my own shadow, then Simon threw me one amused look and asked me to help him with something, after which he went his way and I mine right outside the common-room. Apparently, I am helping him choose table-cloths right now, for half an hour. I have no idea what all the fuss was about, but I suppose Simon will tell me later this evening.'

And then they forget all about the incident, Anne every bit as eager to make love as Nick is. Fortunately he has brought his precautions, half an hour turns into an hour, and when they are lying on the bed together, kissing and snuggling to prepare for their coming separation, a knock on the door cruelly disturbs their peace.

'It's me, Simon,' a voice says very softly and calmly, 'they are asking for you, Anne. What shall I tell them? That you've retreated to your own room for a nap? Quickly now, the master thinks I'm upstairs in your room inquiring.'

Nick calmly gets up and opens the door, urging Simon inside.

'It's bit strange to see you whispering at your own door. We're decent enough.'

Which they aren't, at all, but Anne finds it hard to care, she's as good as engaged to Simon, why shouldn't he see her scantily dressed? And Simon shows no sign of shock, he's pretending to be a ladies' man after all, Nick cannot know, not yet, that Simon may never have seen a woman in a state of undress before. And he doesn't show any interest in Nick either, though Nick shows a lot more bare skin than Anne does.

'I've taken a few hours rest each day for the past week so I guess it's reasonable. Maybe I should get back to the habit of taking a nap in the afternoon. And maybe we should have these trysts in my own room, Simon, Nick, what do you think? And thank you so much for covering for us, Simon.'

'Better put something on then, Anne. I was sent to fetch you if at all possible, apparently the next game used to be a favourite of yours. Mr Darcy wanted to go himself, but Georgiana stopped him and told him to send me. I can wait here. And you'd better go to the common-room, Nick, Dora has an interesting tale to tell about Mrs Grenfell. Here, let me help you put your hair back up.'

And after Anne cleans up at Simon's washstand, Simon actually helps her dress as if he were her maid. Frankly, Dora would be jealous if she knew how good a maid Simon is. In five minutes she is back to her original splendour, and he even checks out Nick before they leave him to clear up the mess they have made of Simon's bed. One last kiss and Anne follows Simon out. Once in the hall he asks calmly, 'Do you feel shame? Anxiety?'

Anne does some soul-searching and concludes, 'No, not even when you came in with me in my chemise only. I'm just sorry to have to leave him.'

'I'll take good care of him. As Frederick takes good care of you. Do you know he looks just like Frederick? As broad chested and as muscular. They could be brothers.'

So Simon did look at Nick, but not very obviously. 'I can imagine, they feel the same.'

By now, they have almost reached the drawing-room, but Simon apparently wants to accompany her all the way.

'I know where to go Simon, I don't need a guard or anything.'

'I know, Miss de Bourgh, but I need to talk to Mr Darcy for a few moments. I didn't get the chance to tell him about Mrs Grenfell, yet, and what she said to your maid certainly justifies a little warning towards him. Or rather, the mistress, I think I'll tell Mrs Darcy.'

'What did she say to Dora, Simon?'

'In short, she offered her a magnificent salary to move to her employ, until she found out Dora wasn't actually Mrs Darcy's maid. Then she was still interested, but first she wanted to see Mrs Darcy's maid.'

'But didn't her husband...'

'He did, which is why the master and mistress need to know. If she starts bothering Fanny things will most likely get out of hand, and sadly Fanny might suffer for them. She has quite a temper, she may say some terrible things to Mrs Grenfell. I'd rather it didn't come to that. I may send Violet a note of warning as well. She probably still likes me, I took leave from her quite beautifully. Violet is Mrs Grenfell's current maid. I flirted with her at Netherfield to head off rumours about my inclinations, create some gossip to make me seem rather too free with my favours.'

'Like Nick, you mean?'

Simon laughs, 'Like Nick, only I never flirted with any of the ladies, just the maids. They gossip more, you see, I didn't really want to do anything with them, I just wanted them to talk as if I did. But don't worry, Nick's a reformed man.'

Well, if he isn't, Anne is not going to beg him for his love. Still, Nick has been a lot less forceful lately, he may be further gone in love than Anne herself is.

'I'm not worried about Nick. Worried for him, maybe, who knows where he will find himself once the Blackwood twins get married.'

'You can hire him yourself, you know. You have money, and it's not unheard of for a single lady to keep a manservant as well as a maid. To protect you, you see. But I guess Frederick has already thought of everything, I suppose he has a plan ready to keep Nick close to you.'

They enter the drawing-room together, where Anne is received heartily, her uncle and cousin Fitzwilliam a bit worried.

'I'm perfectly fine,' she assures them, 'I often take a nap in the afternoon, I prefer to rise early and of course with the concerts at night we're generally back home late.'

Mrs Grenfell is back with her brother and looks at Simon with more than a little alarm, as he follows Anne straight to Darcy and Elizabeth, who are at the table, ready to play a card game Anne really did especially like when they were all kids. They exchange a few words, and Elizabeth leads Simon out of the drawing-room, undoubtedly to hear Dora, then warn Fanny and give instructions to the rest of the staff. Of course Fanny may work for whom she wants, Elizabeth will not try to stop her from finding another employer, but there is no way in which she would ever want to work and live in the same house with a man who tried to rape her.

Elizabeth almost cannot believe Simon when he tells her he found Mrs Grenfell in the servants' quarters, trying to find Mrs Darcy's maid to convince her to change employ. As they move through the hall she observes, 'I'm glad you take this as seriously as we do, Simon. I can imagine you must have felt at least a little uncomfortable refusing a visiting lady what she asked for. Did she give you a hard time?'

'Only a little, ma'am,' Simon replies, 'I hid behind Cook's professed superior rank in the household. But she confused poor Dora terribly, and I'm quite certain she will not give up until she has managed to talk to Fanny. Do you mind if I send a little warning to Mrs Grenfell's maid? I kind of feel sorry for her, being discarded like that.'

'As long as you don't actually put it in writing, Simon. Better invite her to have coffee in some establishment and tell her in person, imagine the scandal if a note from you to her were to be intercepted. And better not tell her about Mr Grenfell's misdeeds either, she is rather loose-tongued, isn't she?'

'She is. You are right, but that sounds like a lot of hassle. Maybe I should forget about warning her, then. Too much potential for mischief, I don't like her that much.'

'Besides there not being much she can do about it. If Mrs Grenfell wants to let her go, she will, and her maid can only hope to get good references. Your friend, the one who will be redundant soon at the Blackwood's, seems to be very fortunate in his employer. I'm glad he is, I kind of like him, and it's all too easy for someone like that to just be left standing.'

By now, they have reached the common-room, and Fanny is just taking a break with some coffee. Dora is done with her sewing and is holding a large bowl, whisking something with great energy. She is such a good girl, always prepared to help out in the kitchen, like Fanny. She even seems as discrete as Fanny, though that still has to be proven beyond doubt.

Simon starts, of course with Mrs Annesley out he rules the roost.

'Did you hear what just happened, Fanny?'

It's almost as if Fanny is a different person here! She curtseys to Elizabeth and replies submissively, 'No, Simon, I know something did happen and it involved me, somehow. But no-one explained, Cook said better let you handle it.'

'It's not that bad, Fanny, don't worry. It's just that Mrs Grenfell, Miss Bingley that was, is trying to get to speak to Mrs Darcy's maid. She doesn't know you were the one her husband assaulted, and she wants to hire you so she can become the next first lady of London fashion. We are afraid she is not going to give up, and we want you to think of what you will say when she manages to catch you.'

Fanny has listened to Simon with growing anger, and is no longer humble when she retorts, 'Well, I'm certainly not going to work for her!'

Then she is silent, trying to regain her calm, and Simon says very gently, 'Of course you aren't, Fanny, but you cannot just confront her with the truth, they kept it from her because she talks. In two days, everybody in London would know it was you. You don't want that, Fanny. You want an excuse, and someone to be with you all the time to keep her from pressuring you or threatening you when you refuse. When you refuse calmly and with a good reason that has nothing to do with the truth.'

'It may even be best if you face her now, Fanny, with the master present. It may save you some anxiety, or the risk that you'll be rude to her.'

Elizabeth cannot imagine that her maid would want that, but she has to offer the possibility.

'Yes, please, ma'am. I'd like to do that. But the master might get angry at her, can't we have someone present who is very calm? Maybe Mr Manners? If he doesn't mind?'

'I'll see what I can do, Fanny. What will you say?'

'Well, I like it here. And let's see... I'm convinced Mr and Mrs Fielding will go to Vienna and I hope they'll take me along. Mrs Grenfell doesn't know about Bob, no need to elaborate, is there? I don't want to leave this family. Will you summon me to the master's study? Most people feel a bit impressed by it, and I've helped clean it really well just yesterday, I'll feel proud to look at my work.'

'Fanny, you're the best. I'll arrange it with the master and Mr Manners, Simon, you tell Bob and make sure he is ready to support Fanny in case she gets upset anyway. Another week, Fanny, and you'll be married. I'll make sure to tell the master to give both of you some time off together as a honeymoon once we're at Pemberley.'

And while the most of the party is playing a lively game with all kinds of little presents, Darcy bluntly confronts Mrs Grenfell with her burning desire.

'Mrs Grenfell, it has come to my attention that you have a certain question you want to ask Mrs Darcy's personal maid. My housekeeper Simon, Fanny herself and Mrs Darcy all feel it will prevent unfortunate misunderstandings if you get the opportunity to do so right away, before rumours get a chance to rear up their heads. Fanny has requested that Mr Manners be present as a kind of witness. Will you join me in my study?'

Of course Mrs Grenfell looks caught, and stunned. This must be the last thing she expected, but it should serve her purpose. Darcy merely looks at Manners, who comes straight towards them.

'May I take maybe twenty minutes of your time, Manners? Mrs Grenfell has an urgent question for Miss Baker, and the latter has requested you be present.'

'Miss Baker? Oh, you mean Fanny! Of course! One moment, please, while I excuse myself to Miss de Bourgh and her cousins.'

When he has returned they move to the study and once there, Darcy rings the bell. Then he invites Mrs Grenfell to sit in one of the chairs on the other side of his desk, and Manners pulls another chair towards it. He does however not sit down in it, but rather stands behind Darcy, as if placing himself outside the conversation. When Fanny enters she doesn't even look very uncomfortable but merely curtsies and at Darcy's signal sits down next to Mrs Grenfell, waiting patiently for someone to speak.

'This is Fanny Baker, Elizabeth's personal maid, Mrs Grenfell,' Darcy introduces her.

'You are indeed very pretty, Fanny,' Mrs Grenfell observes. 'Sometimes people exaggerate, but in your case that is not true. I am looking for a personal maid to make a reputation in town, Fanny. Your mistress has made quite an impression, which is exactly what I would like to do when I join society next winter. I was hoping you'd consider changing households.'

Fanny manages to look flattered and replies respectfully, 'Thank you ma'am, for implicating that Mrs Darcy's success in society is somehow due to my work. And thank you for the kind offer. I am however perfectly content to be Mrs Darcy's maid, Mrs Grenfell, I have no wish to change employers.'

'I can offer you a substantial raise, Fanny.'

Fanny is obviously not impressed, which makes Mrs Grenfell suspicious and rightfully so, since a girl like Fanny can certainly use every penny she makes.

'Don't you want to make more? Or have you heard things? About me, or about my Cuthbert? I assure you, we run a very informal and pleasant household. Little formality and a lot of freedom, and no household chores for personal staff. Your hands will be sacred to my care.'

Again, that should tempt Fanny, apparently she was helping out in the scullery when Mrs Grenfell tried to see her in the servants' quarters.

'I like this household, Mrs Grenfell. And I don't mind helping out in the kitchen or the scullery, my mother taught me hard work and I like making a difference.'

'Is there someone in the household that you are particularly fond of? Maybe that handsome rogue who stole my Violet's heart, eh? You want to stay close to him?'

That is downright mean, to accuse Fanny of being in love with a colleague, most households do not tolerate such goings-on. Fanny does colour but she is not afraid, she trusts Darcy implicitly, and Manners' presence must give her heart, she knows he still holds sway over Grenfell and his college mates.

'I resent your implications, Mrs Grenfell. I am above every suspicion in my behaviour, as my master knows perfectly. You are not tempting me to come and work for you with your manipulations.'

Temper, temper, Fanny does have one, and it's on the verge of breaking loose. She makes one valiant effort to control herself and excuses herself beautifully.

'I'm sorry, Mrs Grenfell, I was out of order. Please excuse me for losing my calm. Nevertheless I have to refuse your kind offer, I am perfectly satisfied with my current position and nothing can tempt me to leave Mr Darcy's employ.'

Well, Caroline hasn't changed a bit, if anything she has gotten more touchy. She allows her own temper to flare up and threatens Fanny right in front of her employer.

'Unfortunately a servant doesn't always have a say in these things, dear Fanny. If Mr Darcy were to find fault with your attitude towards his guests you might find yourself without a job. And Mr Darcy is known to set a rigid standard for his staff's behaviour.'

As Fanny feared, according to Elizabeth, Darcy finds himself on the verge of losing his own temper. How dare Caroline threaten his staff with some supposed rule of conduct? She doesn't have a clue what is going on in her own household. And even worse, Fanny is showing signs of an imminent explosion, another second and she will be accusing Mrs Grenfell's husband of assault and debauchery.

'I think you will do well to respect little Fanny's wish to stay with the family of her choice, Caroline.'

Darcy had forgotten how forceful Manners can be when provoked.

'It is not exactly good conduct to threaten a perfectly innocent little maid with her master's displeasure when sitting right opposite him. This conversation has just reached a natural conclusion. You, Caroline Grenfell, will graciously accept Fanny's refusal to change situations. She wants to stay with Mrs Darcy, and I don't blame her for they are a golden match. You will not try again, and you will not talk about this conversation to anyone, or I will make your social life dryer and colder than the Mongolian heights. And you will stay away from Dora, too. To prevent misunderstandings, she is Miss de Bourgh's maid, and she does not want to become your personal maid either. You know people say I am intimate with the King? I am not. But I am with everyone else who is someone in London. So beware to displease me. Take heed of the better newspapers this week and you may learn how to become an icon of fashion. Now off with you, back to the drawing-room.'

Darcy almost gets up himself, and Fanny does, but not unwillingly so. To prove to Manners he doesn't object to his intervention, Darcy signals Fanny to sit right back down, and leans back himself. Mrs Grenfell flees.

Poor Fanny now stutters, 'I'm sorry, sir, I lost my temper anyway. I had it all worked out, but I still let myself be provoked. I guess I'm a pretty bad maid, to not be able to take some insults.'

While Manners, always familiar, walks over and sits down on the now-empty chair, taking her hand, Darcy says soothingly, 'Caroline Grenfell can provoke an octogenarian into a mouth-frothing rage, dear Fanny. I wanted to kick her, too, once again it was only Manners who kept his cool. You are a perfect match with Elizabeth, she has a temper as well. Get even by having your mistress noticed at the wedding amidst all the splendour of Miss Darcy's dress and Mr Fielding's handsome, happy face. I've heard Miss de Bourgh will be bridesmaid. If you can get Mrs Darcy in the papers despite their competition, you'll have won. Though of course Miss Darcy will also be in your hands, and she will certainly make the society pages.'

Fanny is all smiles again, she loves a challenge.

'I will certainly try, Mr Darcy. Thank you for your kindness, and Mr Manners, thank you for your timely interference. You did frighten me for a moment, you're usually so kind. Can you really do that, get someone excluded from society?'

'Oh yes, my dear Fanny, I can. But Mrs Grenfell will most likely not need my help to be shunned by the beau monde. She lacks gracious manners and she is getting a bit heavy on top. She needs to adapt her style or she will be hopelessly behind before she has started.'

Such a cruel verdict, but Darcy knows plenty of money and a handsome partner are not enough to be really fashionable. One needs to have a certain something in one's air, as Miss Bingley once said, but mostly, Darcy has discovered the last few months, one needs to be nice to people, an art Manners seems to have perfected. And Fielding is a natural, which Darcy is certain Manners is not. A really nice man would not be able to shut up Caroline so quickly and totally.

'Now run along, Fanny, and tell Dora she need not be afraid of a similar scene. Mr Manners has prevented that quite beautifully. See you tonight, with Simon.'


	109. Chapter 109

Chapter 119

Georgiana is very busy with her visitors, which is only natural since it is her birthday. It is great fun to see cousin Spencer again, Georgiana always thought him merely rather old, but now she has grown up a little herself she can appreciate his kindness and his compliments over her blossoming beauty and her fabulous playing. He is just as respectful towards Eric as uncle Spencer, which surprised her hugely when she first noticed it. Who would have thought her dignified uncle would be able to step over Eric's lack of breeding so totally? But Georgiana still prefers to observe people over being the centre of attention, and as soon as she sees cousin Fitzwilliam moving towards Elizabeth and her brother, she unobtrusively joins their little group. This is a first meeting she has to witness.

Cousin Fitzwilliam looks happy, though just the tiniest bit apprehensive as he addresses Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam, 'Mrs Darcy, Darcy, I know you have met Miss Sophie Blackwood before, but still I want to introduce her to you again today, because from this happy day on she will be part of our family. Sophie, Darcy and I grew up together, we have been great friends from the time we were still little boys. And I am more pleased than ever that he managed to win the heart of this beautiful lady, Mrs Elizabeth Darcy.'

Her brother shakes hands with both his cousin and Miss Sophie, and congratulates them heartily. Elizabeth is very much affected by the whole scene, and she embraces cousin Fitzwilliam with familiarity.

'Congratulations, Colonel Fitzwilliam!'

Then she shakes hands with Sophie, and Georgiana can see her sister-in-law is very pleased to welcome the girl into their midst. 'And congratulations to you, too, Miss Sophie! Welcome to the family. I have the highest opinion of Colonel Fitzwilliam, I'm certain he will be the best husband you could ever imagine.'

Poor Sophie is glad with such a reception, but of all the people in the room she seems most in awe of these two. Unimaginable to Georgiana since she is so comfortable and familiar with both, but seen from the girl's point of view maybe understandable, Elizabeth has been all over the papers, and Fitzwilliam still has that certain aloofness to those he doesn't know intimately.

'Thank you so much, Mr and Mrs Darcy. I'm looking forward to getting to know you. It's so good to meet the people who are closest to the colonel, like his father and brother and you. Of course I already knew Miss de Bourgh.'

Well, she is polite at least, and perceptive, for she sees Georgiana standing close-by and merely looks at her fiancée, who introduces the two of them as well, though indeed they have met before on that coffee visit with Anne, countless concerts, and the dinner-party that seems to have finally brought the two of them together.

'Welcome to the family, Miss Sophie,' Georgiana observes, 'I have heard you have a magnificent voice and play the piano very well. I'd love to hear you perform some of those Italian songs.'

She is a bit shy, but she will get over it, Georgiana did easily enough. It's just the number of unfamiliar people, and all dressed to perfection and very self-assured.

'Thank you, Miss Darcy, maybe I will. But it will be very hard to play in front of you and Mr Fielding, I am sure you can understand why.'

'I can, Miss Sophie. I had to get used to playing with Eric as well, since he is so much better than I am, and he always will be. But at home he is just one of the family, and he loves to hear other people play. You know Mrs Darcy plays, too.'

And now Elizabeth takes her chance to be nice to Sophie by adding, 'And believe me, Sophie, when I married Mr Darcy I played very ill indeed, though he didn't seem to mind, nor did the colonel. But I've heard you play a lot better than I used to do. I cannot wait to hear you perform.'

'Thank you, Mrs Darcy, I'm certain I will dare to try, for the colonel always likes me to play and sing for him, so it cannot be really bad.'

Well, Miss Sophie Blackwood may not be the kind of girl to set the world on fire, she is certainly very polite and unassuming. Georgiana had expected a wholly different kind of girl from what Anne told them about how things worked in their family, the parents leaving the girls to their retainer most of the time. A man chaperoning two girls, aunt Catherine would have a fit if she heard about it. But still this girl has better manners at least than Mrs Grenfell, who went to a very expensive school and no doubt had a lady companion or governess like Georgiana used to have. Speaking of Mrs Grenfell, where is she? Though they are all settling around the table to play a game, Georgiana still keeps an eye on everyone and Mrs Grenfell is missing, as well as Anne. Anne often takes a nap in the afternoon, or maybe she just retreats to her room for a bit of peace and quiet, of course there is so much going on in this house compared to Rosings. But somehow Georgiana finds that hard to believe, Anne seems to thrive on society, seems to actively seek it. Taking an afternoon nap just doesn't fit in with her character as Georgiana has come to know it. But that is Anne's own business.

Now uncle Spencer wants to know whether she and Eric are really planning to move to Vienna for a whole year, to study and have Eric perform his own compositions.

'I can hardly wait, uncle Spencer,' Georgiana says, truthfully, 'though German is much more difficult than one would think. But imagine seeing real mountains, and those picturesque villages Eric described, and Vienna is supposed to be one of the most beautiful cities in the world, even its name has an almost magical sound, doesn't it?'

Eric will think she is a simpleton, but she is a mere seventeen, she still has a right to fantasies and imagination. Soon enough she will have to grow up.

'But isn't it very dangerous to travel in the mountains? Aren't there bandits about, and snowstorms and avalanches?'

Uncle Spencer has never been off the island, that much is clear. But Eric has been, he has been to Prague, across even more mountains and those much wilder ones. He does look a bit worried, poor Eric. He has been to one of those shops Anne told them of, very embarrassing, he hardly dared tell Georgiana but he did. It is very sweet of him to worry about her so much, but not necessary at all, she is young but very strong, not like her poor mother at all.

'That is what I've been trying to tell Manners, and Georgiana, all this time, sir. It's not really bad or I wouldn't even consider going, but it's not at all like travelling here, one needs to be prepared to meet some adversity. I've been thinking, Georgiana, if that fellow with the shiners, what's his name again?'

'Nick Fowler,' Georgiana adds. Though he doesn't have those shiners anymore they were a sight she will never forget.

'Exactly, Nick Fowler. If he is dismissed because his charges are getting married, maybe Manners can hire him to give us all a measure of protection without getting the feeling of being watched all the time.'

That is actually a great idea, but maybe she should run it by Anne before actually talking to Frederick or to the man himself: Georgiana has a feeling Anne knows this Nick rather well, and will know whether he can be trusted with some sensitive facts, like Frederick and Simon being together. They want to go overseas to be together more openly, it won't do to take someone along who will be outraged by their involvement. But neither will it do to discuss that in front of her uncle, who still considers Frederick an excellent match for his niece Anne, despite knowing they aren't head over heels in love. And since Georgiana thinks that Anne should decide for herself which man she will or will not marry, and for what reasons, it is important that her uncle doesn't find out how very unlikely Frederick is to fall in love with Anne after all.

It's bad enough Fitzwilliam keeps wanting to stick his nose in Anne's business. It seems Frederick is serious in his intentions towards Anne, and if Anne doesn't mind finding her love somewhere else...like, not too far away? Somewhere in the servants' quarters? No, she is not even going to contemplate that. It's Anne's business, until Fitzwilliam starts to get involved, then Georgiana will call him to order. Like Elizabeth did for Georgiana, but without the making up. Preferably without the fight, too, but if that cannot be avoided, so be it. She speaks airily, but throws Eric a meaningful look.

'Well, I suppose we'll see him around sometimes, Miss Sophie is not married, yet. And apparently he is friends with Simon, so we can always send a message via him.'

Hopefully Eric will understand that they need to discuss this in private.

'Well, I'm glad you have experience travelling the continent, my dear boy,' uncle Spencer says. 'Have you ever seen an avalanche?'

And since Eric has, several times actually, he can entertain his future uncle with spectacular stories of a torrent of snow racing down steep slopes with primeval force, taking everything in its path along with it, trees, huge boulders, houses, roads and if unlucky, people.

'So you say the locals set them off early on purpose? In places where they know the snow builds up to form dangerous ledges, to prevent them from becoming so large they threaten their villages? That sounds rather reckless, and sensible at the same time.'

By now, Mrs Grenfell has returned and she is not happy. Anne is still absent, but if she is asleep she will stay away for at least an hour. But what if she is not asleep? What if she is with... Georgiana dare hardly think about it, let alone name him...Nick? Bedding a servant? It would explain how she knew about ways to prevent pregnancy, no genteel lady would know such a thing. No genteel maid would know either, Fanny certainly doesn't. It would explain so much more. His presence in the house when Anne was not feeling well. His mood at the concerts when she left the Blackwood mansion suddenly and stopped attending the concerts, her mood improving as suddenly after having Sophie and cousin Fitzwilliam over for dinner. This will need some thorough contemplation, but not on her own birthday party. Tonight, in bed. Right now, she is losing so many cards due to her inattentiveness that she is soon out of the game, enabling her to keep a closer eye on her guests. She sees Fitzwilliam get up and hears him excuse himself to Elizabeth.

'I'm going to see whether Anne is in her room, my love, the next game used to be her favourite, she will not want to miss it.'

That is not going to happen, not if Georgiana can help it. The last thing poor Anne needs is her cousin dogging her steps. She quickly intercedes, keeping her advice general.

'If you want Anne found please send Simon, Fitzwilliam. She might feel very uncomfortable if you go looking for her. I know I would.'

Elizabeth agrees immediately, and Fitzwilliam rings for Simon, then sits back down. When Simon arrives promptly, her brother says, 'I was going to look for Miss Anne in her room, we're going to play a favourite game of hers next. But Miss Darcy insists I let you do the honours. Would you find her and bring her back here? Unless she is unwell, of course.'

Simon bows formally, he always does these days, at least when they have company.

'Certainly, master. I'll bring her back.' And he is off.

It takes a while before he returns, but then things do get interesting. Anne is with him, looking perfectly groomed, too perfect for what Georgiana was thinking she was doing, but also for just having had a nap. And Simon is as good a lady's maid as he is a valet, he would not let her enter the drawing-room looking in any way dishevelled.

Anne thanks Fitzwilliam heartily for thinking of her and sits down to join the game, but Simon also heads for his master and mistress and speaks to them in a low voice, a conversation which Georgiana can barely make out. Apparently, Mrs Grenfell went to the servants' quarters to try to convince Fanny to switch employers. Elizabeth gets up and takes Simon out of the room, undoubtedly to talk to Fanny. And Fitzwilliam hands out the cards and starts the game, Anne playing with energy and even a true will to win. After a few games they break up the party and Anne joins Georgiana at the table.

'Thank you, Georgiana, for having your brother send Simon for me. I would have been embarrassed if he had come himself.'

Georgiana cannot help it, she must know!

'You weren't in your room, were you?'

'I wasn't. I was in Simon's room, with Nick. I see you remember him. We have been seeing each other since I stayed with the family. I did think you suspected and were covering for me. Do you blame me?'

'Of course not, Anne, I fell in love with a cowherd's son!'

'I wasn't even in love with him at first, Georgiana, I just used him to conquer shame because Frederick said if I wanted to marry him I'd need to find love elsewhere. But when Nick got hurt he was so sweet and so needy, I just fell for him. So I moved out, because he had warned me not to fall in love with him. And weeks later Sophie told me he had stopped seeing others. She knows he is in love with me but doesn't suspect me of returning his feelings. Not yet. So now we see each other in secret, until I've decided whether I can live with one partner in public and the other in private, as Frederick proposes.'

'Does Nick know about Simon?' Georgiana asks, uncertain whether to be shocked or pleased for her cousin.

'He doesn't. He still thinks Frederick is in love with a terribly low woman. We won't tell him until I decide on Frederick's proposal. I'm ever more inclined to accept, Georgiana, I like both Frederick and Simon so much, and I just cannot deliver myself and my fortune to a man like Nick, who used to chase ladies like trophies. Or any other man.'

'But aren't you afraid Frederick will try to rule you? He can be very dominant, he even had my brother doing his bidding.'

Georgiana says this but she doesn't actually believe it. Frederick does tend to take the lead, but he doesn't really enjoy having power over others. His relationship with Simon is now absolutely equal, and he never patronizes Georgiana though she is so much younger than him he'd even have the right sometimes.

'I know, but I'm certain he wants me to be his equal. And though this will sound calculating, Georgiana, marriage may make him my lawful owner, I actually already own him: I know his secret, he can never force me to do anything I don't want to.'

That is calculating! Planning to marry Frederick because she knows something that can destroy him, thus securing her freedom. It's almost frightening, Georgiana loves Frederick and she doesn't want to see him hurt. Nor Simon.

'Never mind, Georgiana, you know I really love Frederick and Simon, not even as brothers but something more. I'd never hurt them, just as they would never hurt me. I just don't think true love is for everyone, and I don't want to risk spending the rest of my life indentured to a man because I did something foolish under the influence of love.'

'You know, Anne, before I fell in love with Eric I was tempted to marry Frederick myself, even though I was just sixteen and had never been in love. I think he is a great man, loving, trustworthy. You could do a lot worse than Simon and him, if you can live a double life and find your own love elsewhere.'

Anne was obviously surprised and pleased to hear this.

'Thank you for telling me this, Georgiana. I would think you'd have hated the attention of the beau monde, though you have that with Eric as well. I actually like going to parties and balls and dressing up and living life. But I do fear Darcy will find out, or uncle Spencer. Frederick is very afraid of your brother and Elizabeth, since he knows they will disapprove of his tempting me to live in sin, and he is afraid to lose them. But it's my life and I want it to be exciting, I don't want to sit at home and cover screens and take care of children the rest of my life. I want to be with Nick, and if he reverts to his old behaviour I'll find someone else to love. My parents never loved each other and they were miserable together.'

'I so agree with you, though I'm truly in love with Eric and believe in real love existing. But I thought our parents loved each other and yet Fitzwilliam says our father turns out to have been a philanderer. Mr Bennet despises Elizabeth's mother because they have nothing in common. I don't have a sensible thing to say to you, Anne, but I will do whatever I can to help you keep your secret, and if it comes out I'll stand up for you like Elizabeth stood up for me. You have the right to live your own life, neither your mother, nor my brother, nor our uncle get to do that for you.

Now will you tell me what happened with Mrs Grenfell, I suppose Simon told you?'

And Anne tells Georgiana everything, how she discovered the lady in the servants' quarters, and how Nick followed her and warned Simon.

'Amazing, so Caroline still doesn't know that it was Fanny whom her husband assaulted. He must be keeping things from her, for I'm certain he knew whose maid she was, Fanny told me he planned to marry me then use her and if possible Elizabeth as well. Can you imagine marrying someone like that? I'd take Frederick and Simon any day!'

By now, Mrs Grenfell is back in the room, looking both gravely insulted and rather upset, and Georgiana and Anne watch her trying to seek refuge with her brother and not finding it, because Mr and Mrs Bingley are occupied with Mrs Darcy and uncle Spencer. She just stands there, a sad sight, until Mrs Gardiner proves her superior breeding by engaging her in easy conversation. After Caroline treated her abominably that time at Pemberley, and not much better afterwards. When Mr Bennet joins the two of them as well, Georgiana cannot help herself any longer and says to Anne, 'Will you excuse me, Anne? I'm dying to hear what Mrs Grenfell and Mr Bennet have to say to each other, I want to go out there and eavesdrop.'

Anne smiles and observes shrewdly, 'I suppose Frederick did lose a perfect co-conspirator when you fell in love with Eric, my dear cousin. I'll join Fitzwilliam and Sophie for a while, if you promise me to tell me everything you've learned. And I'll be watching you to gain some proficiency in eavesdropping myself. Frederick will be proud of you.'

When it is time for dinner the Gardiners and the Bingleys have left, the latter couple taking Mrs Grenfell with them. Anne is sitting with Elizabeth and Georgiana, expecting to enjoy a nice chat with the other girls. The only other woman left is Sophie, and she is not going to leave Fitzwilliam's side. Frederick is sitting with Mr Bennet, Darcy and Eric, and uncle Spencer and cousin Spencer are showing a lot of interest in Fitzwilliam and his sweet Sophie, which makes Anne very happy since it's clear they approve of her. Elizabeth also comments on the latest addition to the family.

'Is it my imagination, Anne, or has Miss Sophie Blackwood matured immensely in the few weeks we've been in the north?'

As Georgiana nods to confirm her sister's observations, funny since she is two years Sophie's junior, Anne cannot but agree with them.

'She has, yes. Ever since our trip to the army camp, I think, or maybe a bit earlier.'

Since transferring her affections from a childhood crush on Nick to a deserving adult gentleman, Anne guesses.

'I think she really wanted to measure up to what she expected Fitzwilliam to admire in a woman. Though she still possesses a certain innocence, I'd almost call it naiveté.'

Elizabeth laughs and confesses, 'I had that, too, when I got married, I only lost mine when we came to London.'

'I lived most of my life in London, and still I was terribly naïve until Simon and later Frederick cured me of it.'

Funny, for what Georgiana remarks is exactly what Anne was going to say happened to cure her of her innocence. Well, and Nick, of course.

'Without Simon, I, too, would still be a country girl,' Elizabeth beat her to it. 'And I think it was more of an effort to make me grow up than Frederick had to help you become the woman you are now, Anne, am I right?'

'It did happen rather quickly,' Anne dares to confess, 'but of course he had help, Sophie's sister Angelina and their retainer dragged me into the real world rather quickly. With my full approval, and with Mr Blackwood aware of what was going on I'm afraid to conclude in hindsight. It's a miracle Sophie has stayed so innocuous.'

'I'm glad she is, having been exposed to worldliness already and not been affected she will most likely stay as she is right now, and make Colonel Fitzwilliam a perfectly sweet wife.'

Elizabeth is most likely right, and she didn't so much as twitch when Anne mentioned Nick. She is not yet onto Anne, but of course how could she be? She has been away from home for the last three weeks.

'I'm glad I'm no longer naïve,' Georgiana observes, and they all agree, especially Anne, who knows what it is like to be helpless, her fate resting in the hands of another person.

'So Georgiana,' she starts another subject altogether, 'what did Mrs Grenfell talk about with Mr Bennet and Elizabeth's aunt?'

Elizabeth looks surprised at the mention of her father and Mrs Grenfell in one sentence, and exclaims, 'My father talked to Mrs Grenfell? And she didn't flee? I always thought they'd have a deep antipathy against each other, they're natural opposites.'

'Which is why I joined their little group when I saw them together,' Georgiana observes gleefully. 'Mrs Grenfell came back into the room after having been absent from it for some time. She looked crushed, and Bingley was talking to you so she couldn't seek shelter with him. Then Mrs Gardiner took pity on her and your father joined their conversation. And so did I.'

'So what did they talk about, Georgiana?' Elizabeth asks, 'I take it she didn't insult my father, she wouldn't dare.'

'By the time I got there, Mrs Gardiner had inquired after her marriage, and Caroline was telling her about Cuthbert's estate. How it was being ploughed and seeded that very week, how the box hedges had been removed and the pond would be connected to a natural stream. And then she told them about the hermit, the real, living, breathing philosopher they'd hire to live in a little Greek temple at the very back of the garden. Your father was enjoying himself immensely, and Mrs Gardiner was starting to look slightly anxious, I think of him saying something outrageous. I think she likes him for it, your aunt. As if she was hoping he'd do it at the same time as dreading it. And then he asked whether the temple would have a library. Mrs Grenfell looked at him as if he was crazy, of course, for why would a temple have a library?

Your father answered, 'Why, how else would a wise man find answers to all questions? He'd need to look them up, of course, and I suppose Mr Grenfell will not appreciate a hermit coming to his own library to browse through his collection.'

I'm sure Mrs Gardiner was imagining a ragged, none-to-clean hermit dragging his beard through the hall of Mrs Grenfell's house, like myself, for we both had trouble keeping a straight face. Your aunt has as much humour as your father and yourself have, Elizabeth, she could easily be your aunt by blood instead of by marriage. But Mrs Grenfell probably thought their hermit would know all the answers to every possible question instinctively.

'Cuthbert doesn't have a library,' she replied frankly, 'he prefers to spend his time riding and hunting. He has promised me my own phaeton this summer.'

Mr Bennet shook his head regretfully and said 'Then I suppose your hermit will be just fine without a library, too. Too bad, if your temple had a library I would have considered the position myself. Plenty of fresh air, lots of private space, the occasional respectful visitor bearing gifts. I could do without my horse and my wife, but I cannot do without my library.'

I'll tell you, Mrs Grenfell did not like the idea of having a man like Mr Bennet living in her backyard, maybe she's telling Bertie right now to cancel their search. Soon after that she left and Mrs Gardiner laughed out loud and said, 'Oh my brother, that was delightful. I was wondering why you'd come to talk to her, I addressed her because I felt sorry for her but I just couldn't believe that of you.'

'I did feel sorry for her,' Mr Bennet said, 'and why shouldn't I? I suppose I'm the only person in this room she has never insulted in some way or other. I feel a kinship between us. Well, I felt it, until I found out she married a guy who doesn't have a library. I'm glad Lizzy married the man with the largest private library ever, even though I tried to dissuade her. I can't wait to visit Pemberley, Georgiana. Maybe Darcy wants a hermit living in his library.'

'You could never be a hermit, Mr Bennet,' Mrs Gardiner teased him, 'you like your comforts too much. And I don't think either Mrs Grenfell or her husband will be bothered with many philosophical quandaries, so why bother to pay someone to solve them?'

Then it was time for dinner, and of course Mrs Gardiner went home to her children.'

'Your father has never insulted me, Elizabeth,' Anne says, hoping she doesn't sound as if she is insulted by his oversight.

'It's because you're smart,' Elizabeth replies, 'he likes smart people. But he is not perfect himself, and seeing Lydia again I've come to realise he just gave up on her and my mother, when maybe he should have tried harder to make them less foolish. He could have, he just didn't care.'

Anne can see it's hard for Elizabeth to criticize her adored father, they all have so much to learn about life.

'Are you truly considering coming with me if I decide to visit Charlotte?' she asks Anne.

'Certainly. I like Charlotte, and I think my mother has behaved shamefully towards them. I feel a little responsible. There are some things I'd like retrieved from my rooms at Rosings as well. And I'd like to send a note to Mrs Jenkinson, tell her I'm all right. I suppose uncle Spencer has her address. Yes, I think I should come with you, if you don't mind my bringing Dora along to see her family. And I have to admit I'd feel safer with a guard, I know Bob is a sturdy fellow but he will be busy with Darcy's team, and he could never withstand my mother. I'm pretty sure Nick could, and Georgiana is right, Mr Blackwood would let him come with us.'

'It would be a perfect opportunity to get to know him better, Anne,' Georgiana says, 'you know Eric suggested we take him along for our protection when we go to the continent, but I think we'd need a particular kind of person for that or Frederick and Simon would still be forced to keep their distance by day.'

'Am I missing something, girls?' Elizabeth now asks. 'Is Anne going along to Vienna? Does that mean it's a certainty you are going, Georgiana? And Anne, does that mean you are going to marry Frederick?'

Both girls nod, Anne as much so as Georgiana.

'It's getting ever more likely, Elizabeth, that we're going. Mr Clementi has already written several letters of inquiry to people he knows, and he is expecting their replies any day now. He expects Eric to be able to choose whom he wants to study with, he has recommended him highly.'

'And my marrying Frederick is also getting more likely, Elizabeth. I find myself totally unwilling to give up my freedom, and Frederick offers me constant entertainment as well as freedom.'

'But what about love, Anne?'

'I get plenty of love, Elizabeth. Simon and Frederick are very good husbands, and thinking of the last ten years I can easily ignore some of the finer points of good conduct. I'll get my love where my mother got it, where my late uncle Richard got it. At least I'll have a choice, Charlotte never had one. What would you have done if Darcy hadn't persisted?'

'I shudder to think of it, though it never frightened me then. I suppose Lydia would have shamed us all and we would all have suffered the consequences. You've made your point, Anne, love is a luxury we don't all have. And you are right, Frederick and Simon are excellent company and they will treat you right.

Shall I make the arrangements to go see Charlotte? I thought we might go coming Friday, and I agree it's probably best if we take Nick Fowler along for our protection and when it comes to sneaking about Rosings. Will you arrange for him to get consent to join us? You might want to tell Mr Blackwood about Vienna, he'll not want his favourite servant to miss out on such an opportunity.'

Anne nods, she can see all kinds of opportunities here, though telling Nick about Simon and Frederick is their business, not Anne's. Except for the timing, which does depend on her. But some part of her already knows she has decided to marry Frederick, she just has to find a way to tell Nick before she makes a formal call on her noble suitor.


	110. Chapter 110

Chapter 120

When dinner is over with and the kitchen staff is cleaning up the remnants of their own supper in the common-room, Simon finally has a little time for a breather and a cup of coffee. It has been a very busy night, and besides the thing with Mrs Grenfell, Simon has his own worries. What if Anne accepts Frederick's proposal? Then they'll have to tell Nick about the two of them, exposing themselves to someone they both like, but hardly know. Nick is very kind, but he is also very much a ladies' man, by now a lady's man, Simon cannot imagine he will accept two men loving each other easily, if at all. Which means that it would be very foolish to let Frederick tell him. Better he does the hard part himself, rumours about him are flying anyway, and Nick will most likely not expose him.

Will things change very much when Frederick and Anne get married? Of course there is the wedding, at which Simon will not even be welcome. That does sting. And Frederick will be expected to move to his own house after his marriage, where will that leave Simon? After a long day of work he really has to remind himself that Frederick does not want to be away from him, does not want to be with anyone else but Simon himself. Frederick will make everything right, he always does, even Mrs Grenfell seems happy with the match he made for her, despite all the opposition from Mr Darcy.

And when Nick joins Simon at his table with a cup of coffee of his own, Simon remembers Nick will most likely be there with him, behind the scenes or somewhere else entirely, waiting for their loved ones to get married. Suddenly he needs to know, will Nick be there? Or will he be back with Mr Blackwood, improving himself towards a partnership in Mr Blackwood's firm while coming to terms with his lost love for Miss de Bourgh, possibly trying to forget his grief with a dalliance here and there.

'It's nearly time to leave, Simon, Colonel Compton always orders the carriage early. May I please come again next week? Stay over and chase the girls?'

'Of course you may, Nick. It's my pleasure, and since we're not really going to chase any girls, Mr Darcy will not object.'

'I do feel bad about that, Simon, I'm using you to please myself and Anne. There is nothing in it for you, I suppose you'd like to really go out sometimes.'

A better moment will never come. Simon checks the room and finds it empty. Still, why take the risk?

'Will you join me in my office for half an hour, Nick? There is something I need to tell you about chasing girls.'

Of course Nick does, and when they are seated, door closed, Simon gathers his courage and says, 'You don't need to feel guilty about not chasing girls with me, Nick. I cultivate the image of being a Casanova, but in fact I don't fancy going after girls at all.'

'Why not, Simon? Are you engaged? In secret? I thought Mr Darcy was easygoing with his servants dating?'

'He is, but that is not the point. I do not fancy girls, Nick. I've tried to fall in love with women, I've even dated some, but it just doesn't work. For some unfathomable reason I can only fall in love with men. And I only date men who have the same affliction, in case you are wondering.'

Nick is stunned, but not into silence, for he says mechanically, 'I'm not, Simon, I think I would have known if you were in love with me. Instead you've caught me by surprise. That one rumour was true, and the rest of them weren't?'

'I did flirt with scores of maids, but none of it was serious. Do you mind?'

He does not look disgusted, or ready to hit Simon and leave, but he does not understand either.

'How can you not love women, Simon? They're so nice and soft and sweet, and they smell so good. Men are rough and coarse, and they have hair everywhere. How can you want to touch a man when you can have any woman you like? You're so handsome, all the girls love you!'

Simon cannot help laughing at Nick's stunned question, though it has plagued him for years until he finally accepted who he was.

'I'd say plenty of women want to touch a man, even men who smell bad and dress worse seem to find a woman. So why shouldn't I love one of them? A well-dressed, nice-smelling one?'

'I guess you are right. Why would a woman want an ugly hairy fellow? It's as if they just can't help themselves. I've often wondered why I'm popular with the ladies, I'm not handsome, I'm not athletic or rich. But they cannot seem to help themselves, they must have me. So it's the same with you?'

This is a much more rational reaction than Simon had expected, and he calmly explains, 'Spot on. I've always been popular with women, they chased me and I liked being chased. But whenever I tried to go beyond stroking and kissing it got difficult. Still I did most of what you'd do with a woman, I could have gotten married and sired some children, but I would have been desperately unhappy, and my wife would have been, too. Then when I finally found out what was wrong with me, when I fell in love with a man and my love was answered, my world collapsed. I could not accept it and denied my love, spurned him, went back to letting myself be chased and caught, tried to cure myself by making love with soft and sweet women. It took me years to accept who I was, and then I fell in love with an unreachable man, I suppose to not have to act on my preferences. You are so right: I cannot help myself, I need to be with a man to feel love. I love stroking hard muscle, I love a man's strong character, his strong body, even his roughness and his strong smell, I just cannot help it.'

Nick is silent, and Simon awaits his verdict. His nerves are less rattled than that time when he found out that Mr Darcy knew, and he knows Nick will not betray him. But he likes Nick, he hopes they will be very good friends, and it all hinges on this moment, even Anne's happiness does, partly. Finally, Nick looks at him and speaks.

'It must be very difficult, Simon, I suppose you're often very unhappy. I still cannot believe such a handsome man able to ignore all the women vying for his attention, but I have wondered why you weren't with someone. Anne knows, doesn't she? She told me you were no competition for me.'

This is approaching a very dangerous point, Nick is smart and worldly-wise, one more leap of his thoughts and he arrives at Frederick not being able to marry the person he loves. Fortunately their little talk is disturbed by the bell. It's most likely the colonel who wants to leave. Simon replies, and with his heart in his throat asks the most pertinent question.

'She does, yes, as does the master. He has known for years, protected me from the world. Do you still want to come over next week?'

Nick gets up and says decidedly, 'Yes, Simon, and not just for Anne. I like you, and hearing this I like your master a lot better, too. While he still frightens me, I know everybody else admires him. I suppose you must want to see the continent very badly to leave him for Mr Manners. Simon, the colonel is not as easygoing as Mr Blackwood, I suppose that comes with being a colonel, so I have to run. I'll be over on Tuesday, is that all right?'

Though Simon cannot imagine Colonel Fitzwilliam being anything else than friendly and good-natured, Nick seems to have a certain awe of powerful, self-assured men. Interesting, when his own master is so very indulgent towards him. But at least he is not onto Frederick at all, let him digest Simon's preferences first.

'Tuesday is fine, Nick. Shall I ask Mr Manners to fetch you?'

'I guess Mr Blackwood will let me use the carriage after I've brought Miss Angelina back home. If you really don't mind asking him I'd appreciate a ride back on Wednesday. You're so comfortable with men like him and Mr Darcy, Simon, I can't imagine daring to talk to either of them.'

'You talk to Mr Manners easily enough, you even confronted him once. They're just men, Nick, like all others, except they have been in charge from their earliest youth. Wednesday is Miss Darcy's wedding, but I think Mr Manners will manage to drive by the Blackwood house. Better run, I'll see you soon!'

And Nick is off, leaving Simon behind in confusion. Maybe he should have let Frederick handle this, but somehow he doesn't think so.

And Nick isn't any less confused, he did talk back to Mr Manners that one time, but only because he felt Anne was being wronged. He'd never dare confront a lady like Simon did today, even if Simon did say his master didn't like her at all. And how he just took Nick along to serve the family coffee, it was brazen, hiding in plain sight. But of course Simon has Mr Manners supporting him, that would give anyone courage. If Anne insists on marrying Mr Manners, the latter has promised he will hire Nick, and then Nick will also feel supported by a truly influential gentleman. Of course Nick would prefer to marry Anne himself and live of what money she has and what he can make for both of them, but he can understand Anne might become very unhappy living in a totally different world from what she is used to. Nick would still be working in a rich household all day, and poor Anne would be stuck in a tiny house by herself. Everything Nick always said he didn't want to do to a wife and children. Maybe it will be better if they both live in a rich household, and he only has to work just enough to keep up appearances.

And Simon? He will live there, too, until they all go to the continent. It'll be great fun to be with Simon all the time, even if he has this strange thing with loving men. He has never been inappropriate to Nick, nor to anyone else in Nick's presence. Such a shame he'll never be really happy, always hiding something from people, always sneaking around to find love. Though that's exactly what Nick has been doing for years and he has never been unhappy. Except now, Nick would love to just marry Anne and settle with her and raise a few children, but they will never be able to. Like Simon. Like Mr Manners, who loves someone he can never marry. How will she fit in this little group? Won't Mr Manners' lover hate Anne for having what she cannot have?

By now, Nick has fetched his coat and reached the hall, where Miss Sophie and Colonel Compton are just taking leave of Miss Darcy and Mrs Darcy. Anne is also present, of course she is very fond of her cousin, and of Sophie, but Nick hopes she also wants to take leave of him.

'Ah, Fowler, just in time,' Colonel Compton observes in a friendly voice. He isn't that strict at all, he may be an important man in the army, in private he is actually very gentle and open, which is why Nick has such high hopes of him for Sophie.

'Mr Fowler, just the man we need,' Nick hears Mrs Darcy say. Mrs Darcy? What could she want from him?

'Can you spare us a few moments, Colonel Fitzwilliam?' she asks her husband's cousin, and Nick can clearly see the colonel still has a weak spot for her, 'Anne and I have a request to make of Mr Fowler.'

'Of course, Mrs Darcy, we can wait as long as you like.'

She smiles a ravishing smile at the colonel, hopefully Miss Sophie cannot see his reaction while taking leave of Miss Darcy. Then she approaches Nick, again surprising him how young she is, and asks, 'Mr Fowler, Miss de Bourgh and I are planning a short trip to Kent, to a friend of mine who lives adjacent to Rosings. Since you have proven to be a very determined protector, we would like to ask you to accompany us, and we were wondering whether your master would be prepared to let you go for a few days. We plan to leave this Friday and return on Saturday. There may be some need for sneaking around, for Miss de Bourgh wishes to retrieve some items from her mother's estate, and since she refuses to see her mother she hopes you may be found willing to assist Dora in what will most likely turn out to be a matter of bluffing your way into her rooms and back out again. Of course we will settle the particulars later, and ask permission of Mr Blackwood ourselves, we just want to ask first whether you are interested to act as a guard.'

Travel with Anne? See Rosings? Confront Lady Catherine? For Anne, Nick would do anything. He bows and says politely, 'I'd love to be of assistance to both of you, Mrs Darcy. If Miss de Bourgh asks, Mr Blackwood will certainly give his permission, he could never refuse her anything. Nor would he refuse Mrs Darcy anything, for that matter. He greatly admires you. If you visit, he'll swoon.'

Somehow Mrs Darcy seems to invite informality and humour, she looks very playful and almost naughty. She is certainly very honest about their quest at Rosings. And indeed she smiles at him as ravishingly as she did at the colonel, and despite being head over heels with Anne Nick does feel the impact of that smile.

'I wouldn't miss that for the world. Mr Fowler, will you please let Mr Blackwood know we hope to pay him a morning visit tomorrow? Just Miss de Bourgh and I, unless you think he really wants to meet Mr Darcy?'

Pretending to check out the hall for eavesdroppers before sharing a confidence, Nick states, 'Mr Blackwood will love to see just the two of you. He is very fond of being around pretty young ladies, and somehow your husband's presence would disconcert him, I think. I suppose I'll be there to keep an eye on him, but he's generally harmless.'

Mrs Darcy loves it, so that's how Simon gets away with blue murder in this household!

'I can imagine, Mr Fowler, Fitzwilliam does have a certain presence. By ourselves it is, then, I don't particularly mind being looked at, I've practised since the start of the new year, and Miss de Bourgh knows Mr Blackwood well. Thank you very much, I'm certain Miss de Bourgh will look forward to our little trip very much, knowing you will be there to keep her safe.'

It's almost as if she knows and wants to see them together. But there is nothing Nick can do about that, he will look forward to this little trip, too, even if it means sitting on the box in the cold with Mr Darcy's driver for half a day.

'Thank you very much, Mrs Darcy,' he replies, then bows. Anne comes up beside Mrs Darcy and Nick's heart skips a beat. She is so beautiful and sweet, and tomorrow he will see her again for a few blessed moments when she visits with Mrs Darcy. A warm hand takes his and squeezes it gently, it's not as good as a kiss but it will have to do.

'Will we see you tomorrow when we visit, Nick?'

'I think so, Miss de Bourgh,' Nick replies, 'I can't wait to see Rosings and your mother, Miss.'

She obviously can, which is why she wants him along.

'I hope you won't have to see her, though you will undoubtedly see Rosings, it's rather large. Will you bring your weapon? I don't want to risk you getting hurt.'

'You know I'd do anything for you, Anne,' he dares say, since everyone is already moving towards the door. Bowing before her, he kisses her hand, and when he is moving up, she intercepts him with a tiny kiss on his forehead.

'That is what I'm afraid of,' she replies, softly. 'See you tomorrow, dear Nick.'

Whatever could an old lady do to harm an adult man? Anne must love him very much to be so concerned for his health.

'Sleep well, my love,' he whispers just before he has to leave her to follow the colonel and Miss Sophie to the carriage. The colonel hands his fiancée in, and Nick joins them inside, a bit embarrassing, but he is her chaperone after all. Somehow he is in a fey mood, maybe Simon is right, maybe Colonel Compton is just a man, born and bred to authority but not a higher form of life.

'You're engaged, Colonel Compton, you may hold hands with your little lady,' he says, expecting to receive a severe reprimand. But the colonel merely smiles shyly at his beloved Miss Sophie, who throws Nick one look of infatuation, hopefully the last one ever, then directs that very same gaze at her fiancée. He takes her hand and kisses it tenderly, then looks up at her to judge his reception. Miss Sophie has regularly kissed one or other of the guards on one of those dances, but no-one would suspect now. She accepts the colonel's sign of affection with a modest blush, and her avid lover now kisses her full on the lips, Nick's embarrassment at witnessing their intimacy his own fault. Miss Sophie does not show her experience, she lets the colonel lead and merely relishes his ardent kiss. After another such kiss, Nick's attention is drawn from a very interesting scene outside in the pitch-dark by the colonel's kind voice.

'Thank you for reminding me, Fowler. Was that too much?'

Is he actually pulling Nick's leg? Does he know Nick's reputation? Nick decides to give as good as he gets.

'For Mr Blackwood's drawing-room, yes. For the privacy of a carriage? No, I'd say it was just right, Colonel Compton.'

The colonel beams, then admits to Miss Sophie, 'I have a certain experience, my love, I did start out as an officer in the field where temptations were never far away. Spirits, gambling, but also women. Only someone with an iron will, like Darcy, or an all-consuming obsession, like Mr Fielding, could have withstood.'

Dear Miss Sophie strokes his cheek with a little too much certainty for a sheltered maiden and says lovingly, 'I don't mind, Colonel. You know Nick practically raised us, and he never made a secret of his dalliances.'

Actually, Nick thought he did, but apparently everyone knew anyway. Miss Sophie laughs heartily.

'Come on, Nick, how could anyone not have seen all those nervous ladies following you upstairs? They keep coming, Colonel, even though he no longer wants them. Don't look so put out, Nick, no-one blamed you, except Wellesley. Cook and papa practically worship Nick, because he can get any woman he wants. Until he fell in love with what must be the only one he cannot have. She's as good as engaged, you see.'

No, Sophie, no! Please let her not mention Anne before her cousin, please not. But it's the cousin who actually saves Nick from disgrace, with a pained look he addresses a mere servant in a very personal manner.

'That is very tough, Fowler, I know because I've been there. I'm very sorry for you. But let me assure you, it will pass, you will find someone else. Isn't that right, my little Sophie?'

Sophie may have more sense than Nick credited her with, for she replies, 'I'm glad you finally noticed me, Colonel, and I'm sure Nick will fare just as well, eventually. He will be back to his ladies soon enough, though probably not in papa's house: with Angelina also engaged he will lose his job, poor Nick.'

The colonel nods his understanding and compassion.

'I'm sorry to hear that, Fowler, and two strokes of bad luck at the same time. Should you consider taking service I can help you get ahead, I like your attitude, respectful but astute. You'd make a great officer. And joining the army can sometimes be just the change of circumstances a man needs. Though Mrs Darcy seems to have taken an interest in you? Darcy has a lot of connections, he can help you get ahead as well, and his friend Mr Manners knows virtually everyone in London.'

'Thank you for your trust, Colonel,' Nick manages to say. He, an officer? That is quite a compliment. 'Mrs Darcy asked me to keep Miss de Bourgh safe while we visit a friend of theirs in Kent.'

Nick does not mention the sneaking in and retrieving personal items from Rosings. The colonel is Lady Catherine de Bourgh's nephew, after all.

'Anne is going to Kent? But not to her mother I presume?'

Though Nick knows exactly what Anne thinks of her mother, he pretends to be only half-informed.

'Mrs Darcy did not mention visiting Miss de Bourgh's mother, sir. And I remember a smelly fellow trying to abduct Miss de Bourgh right in front of me. I ran him off.'

'Despite having been severely injured several days earlier. I heard. It's why I think you'd make a good officer. Being able to fight is a talent, but being able to refrain from fighting is an even greater one. Talbot told me you had aptitude with a musket, but no experience. I suppose you've never fenced, either?'

'No, sir, I'm a city boy of humble birth. I didn't dare admit it to Lieutenant Talbot at that time, but I am pretty good at hand-to-hand fighting, dirty fighting. And I am very proud of my skills with a slapjack.'

'A slapjack, no less!' The colonel is surprised but not outraged.

'That is a difficult weapon to handle, and potentially lethal. Now I understand why Mrs Darcy wants you along to Kent to scare off further bullies my aunt may send. And why my father-in-law trusted you with his daughters in some very dubitable places. Well, my offer still stands, even more so, I can appoint my own officers up to a certain number and I'd take you as an ensign tomorrow. It's hard work and dangerous, but a marvellous opportunity to make a fortune and rub shoulders with the gentry. You think about it, maybe talk it over with Ensign Stockford when you accompany him and Miss Angelina next time.'

The carriage halts and they all get out, the colonel assisting his fiancée of course, he has his own room at the Blackwood mansion these days and he stays there as often as he can without neglecting his duties. Since it is rather late, they all go to their own room, Felicity assisting Miss Sophie, the two men all by themselves. But Nick cannot find sleep right away, his mind is still buzzing with everything that has happened, finally settling on the memory of making love with Anne. Since Nick never had an ideal of a little house of his own with a woman and children to come home to, he can easily replace that image with himself and Simon observing the staff of any number of great houses in England or abroad, with Anne and Mr Manners doing the same with the lords and ladies, then comparing notes in the evening, enjoying a glass of excellent wine together. And after that, each night a delight, spent in a soft bed with down covers, with Anne in his arms.

Time flies when there is so much to talk about, and before they know it their visitors are leaving and it is time to turn in. After seeing everyone out and talking to Nick Fowler about accompanying them to Kent, Elizabeth has just one thing left to do before turning in with her handsome beloved: give Georgiana a very late birthday present, something Elizabeth promised her a long time ago, before her sister even fell in love. Fitzwilliam wants to be there when they hand it to her, and rightly so, and so should Eric be. Anne is still awake, and Frederick hasn't retreated yet, but nonetheless it's time to give Georgiana the adventures of Pierre the painter. Two days before their wedding, just enough time to read up on what is supposed to happen after the ceremony.

'Georgiana?' Elizabeth asks her sister-in-law, who turns around to face her.

'Fitzwilliam and I have a little something for you. It's in the drawing-room, will you accompany us there for another few minutes before turning in?'

'Sure, Elizabeth, you're making me very curious, waiting until everyone has left. I suppose Eric and Frederick are still there, is that a problem?'

'None at all, and Anne can come along, too. It's merely your uncle and cousins who might not understand. But you are going to get married in three days, and I remember making a promise to you about helping you to improve your mind before that.'

Judging from Georgiana's smiling face she remembers the term, and the promise, but of course Anne has no idea. Maybe she shouldn't be there either, but somehow Elizabeth thinks Anne won't be shocked or outraged for despite being unmarried, she's almost Fitzwilliam's age. She must have heard about the things going on between a man and a woman, apparently Nick Fowler once explained to her what her mother had been doing with the worthless doctor who almost killed Anne with his bloodlettings. An embarrassed servant wouldn't have given her much detail, but it was not as if she was going to have to read the book, she was just going to see it change hands and hear Elizabeth's explanation of its contents.

Once in the drawing-room, Fitzwilliam picks up a package from the top of a cabinet and hands it to Elizabeth with a kiss and a smile. Frederick and Eric have come closer, and everyone left in the room is now watching Elizabeth with curiosity, wondering why she saved this present for the last. Well, there goes.

'Dear Georgiana, I remember making you a promise to give you a certain book just before you got married, so you could improve your mind on the subject of what follows the actual wedding. This is not that book, since then we have found a nicer one, with better information. Your brother and I have read this book together, and though we were shocked by its contents on a regular basis, we feel we want the two of you to have both the fun of the reading and the information it contains. Read it together with your beloved but beware, it can have some unwanted side-effects that you may want to avoid before you are well and truly married. Enjoy!'

And she kisses Georgiana and hands her Pierre's memoires, her sister obviously very pleased she remembered. After thanking her brother and sister for their gift, Georgiana kisses her fiancée good night and leaves the room, taking the book with her. Eric also takes his leave. But Anne and Frederick move almost as one to ask what that was all about, and Elizabeth explains as tactfully as she can what is written on those dry paper pages. Frederick laughs out loud, and Anne looks mostly interested, not shocked at all.

'You're the best brother and sister ever, Darcy and Elizabeth, to help Georgiana prepare for her first night as Mrs Fielding. And Eric as well, he will be very thankful to have a clue what is going on.'

Then cheekily, 'I think I'll borrow it once they have finished reading it. Who knows when it might come in handy.'

Frederick laughs again, he knows something, Anne is up to something. But Elizabeth is going to follow Georgiana's excellent example and let Anne live her own life. Whatever she is doing, it is none of their business, and none of Fitzwilliam's either. Which means it's time to go to bed themselves, having been reminded of all the outrageous things Pierre is doing in the book, Elizabeth wants to do some of them herself, and to do that she needs Fitzwilliam. Wishing the others a good night, she takes his arm and leads him from the drawing-room, leaving Anne and Frederick by themselves.

Frederick observes, 'At least they're treating you like an adult, Anne. Darcy didn't even hesitate leaving you alone with me.'

Anne must have heard a little disgruntlement in his voice for she answers with distinct humour, 'Of course they don't, Johnson is gone home, so why should they? There is no-one to talk.'

She is sharp, and Frederick loves to see the change in her.

'You know I love you, don't you, Anne? I love hanging out with you.'

'It's the same with me, Frederick, I feel so much at ease with you. And Simon. Even with Nick I have a feeling I need to justify myself, not for wanting to marry you, but for not wanting to marry him.'

'It would cost you the only life you know, Anne, I do think he realises that. He's just very afraid to lose you. I think we need to tell him about Simon and myself, I suppose that would convince him I'm not his competition.'

'I don't think you should tell him already, Frederick, it's too dangerous, you have too much to lose. Why don't we ask Simon, he spends hours with Nick, he may know him the best of all three of us.'

Frederick has to admit Anne is right, and not just that. Simon has a right to be involved in any decision Frederick makes.

'Simon has something to lose as surely as I have, Anne. You are right, he needs to have a say in things. He may feel as bad about you and me making a match as Nick does. We discussed it, of course, but people do change their minds.'

Anne agrees to seek out Simon immediately, and they move to the servants' quarters, Frederick now eager to see his beloved once again. But though he is in his room, waiting, he is not as Frederick expects him to be, sweet and eager, but rather in a particular mood. He's not exactly sad, nor exuberant, it's more like something in between, anxious and excited at the same time. It's very obvious he needs a warm embrace and a broad shoulder to support him, and the feel and smell of his handsome, slender lover as he falls into his arms makes Frederick's heart beat as fast as ever, despite Simon's predicament. Whatever it is, Frederick will make it go away.

For a few moments, Simon clings to his chest like a damsel in distress, not his usual calm self but trying hard to reach that blessed state. Anne won't begrudge them a few kisses, and as their intimate contact causes Frederick's heart to resume its normal course, so it relaxes Simon quickly, and he looks up at Frederick, then over his shoulder at Anne, and explains his state, his voice proving he is back to reason already.

'I told Nick about my preference for men, I thought it was time. I left you out, Frederick, I want to see how he reacts first. If he turns up coming Tuesday he has most likely accepted it. He wanted to come over and felt guilty about not really going out with me, so I told him I don't even want to. He took it reasonably well, didn't understand why a handsome man like me would not want to love women since they were so much softer and sweeter and better-smelling than men. I told him most likely the same reason why most women seem to love men. Did you know what he said then?'

Of course Frederick doesn't, but Anne makes a good guess.

'Because it's in their nature to love men?'

Simon smiles and says, 'Close, he said they most likely couldn't help themselves. Which explains exactly why I love you madly, Frederick: I just cannot help myself.'

Well, Frederick can't help himself either, he has to lift Simon off his feet and crush him to his chest, he is not exactly soft, but he is certainly sweet and he smells fabulous, even without expensive cologne. From the corner of his eye he can see Anne enjoying the spectacle, she is not shocked by two men exchanging intimacies, she is just perfect. And understanding, for she laughingly observes, 'I shall leave you two to enjoy your night and relish my memories of this afternoon. Tomorrow morning I'll see Nick again, and you say he's coming over Tuesday evening? I'll make sure to stay at home. I nearly forgot to tell you, Georgiana found me out, but she was not horrified. She says she'll support me. Well, good night!'

Though this casual message disturbs Frederick a little it was to be expected, they have managed to keep their own affair a secret from the other staff, but of course the family knows. And a grown woman like Anne knowing things like how to prevent pregnancies, and disappearing each time Nick Fowler is in the house. It was bound to happen. If only she agrees to marry Frederick and quickly, then he can protect her from her overzealous relatives.

Visiting the Blackwood family with Anne is great fun. While Fitzwilliam takes his father-in-law riding, and most likely to their favourite store afterwards to buy more hunting gear, Elizabeth is driven to the large mansion where Nick Fowler lives and works. They have agreed to take a magnificent detour, the thoroughbreds need a lot of exercise and Bob knows the best places just outside town to let them blow off steam while showing his mistress and Miss de Bourgh some of the most beautiful sights near a city of millions. They could make Hertfordshire in a few hours, it's really incredible how fast the team moves and how long they can keep up their speed. And besides the view there is plenty to talk about, Anne has been living in their house for almost four weeks now, but Elizabeth has been away for most of that time, and things are very busy with Georgiana getting married so soon.

But now they have half an hour to talk while watching the beautiful scenery flash by, and Anne seems very happy.

'I can't wait to see Kent again, though I have no wish at all to meet my mother. Is it really bad of me not to miss her in the slightest?'

'I suppose it is, Anne, but I have to admit I feel the same way about my own mother, and with less justification. I suppose we all care more for some relatives than for others. I feel I'm neglecting Jane scandalously, when we used to be so close. But I guess that is what life is like, we all move on.'

'That does make me feel a little better, to know I'm not the only one who is moving on. I feel like I'm finally alive, and I'm certain my mother would try to stop me. Which is why I am seriously considering marrying Frederick, to be safe from meddling relatives.'

'But not just that, I hope, Anne? That would be a really bad reason to get married, for Frederick is known to be quite a meddler himself. Though he treats you differently from most people, with more respect and a certain affection. But you do realise he will never be able to give you physical love, don't you?'

It's a bit frank, but Anne doesn't mind that, judging from her reaction.

'Thank you for the warning, Elizabeth, but I do know he cannot be cured, if what he has is such a bad thing in the first place. Personally, I think they are kind of cute together, I like Simon as much as I like Frederick, and I would love to have both of them part of my life. I'm not afraid of Frederick's meddling, I think I can handle him. And I know where to find love, I just need to decide whether I can do away with my little girl's ideals of marriage. You know, everlasting love, perfect harmony, everything you and Georgiana have. I could wait for it to come, but what if it never does? And what if it seems to but my gentleman turns out to be a Will Collins, or a Richard Darcy?'

Elizabeth can so understand Anne's position, Frederick would be a perfect husband except for that one little thing. Would it be so bad to, all right, she can hardly even think it, would it be so bad for Anne to make love with a man she is not married to? A gardener? A travelling painter? That last thought makes her smile, and Anne looks surprised.

'I'm sorry, Anne, I do take you very seriously. It's just that I happened to think of Pierre, the main character of the book we gave Georgiana. He is a painter and travels from household to household, sleeping with all the ladies. Fitzwilliam and I read that book from cover to cover and were often scandalized, but we loved it, too. I'm afraid I'm still stuck in my little girl's dream, as you put it. But would it be so bad to do what Frederick and Simon have been doing all their lives, and what Pierre did? Take love where it is offered? I don't know, I can't give you a reasonable answer. I would be a hypocrite if I'd blame you for doing it but not Frederick. Frankly, it would be none of my business.'

'I'm amazed you read that book, and then gave it to your sister. Darcy must have changed a lot, he used to be so...'

'Priggish. That is what he calls it himself. But I don't believe that for one moment, I think he acted how he thought he should and was a different man inside. If he protests your marrying Frederick it's because he is afraid you'll be unhappy. But it is none of his business either, and if he tries to make it so, he will find both myself and Georgiana in his way. You have to make your own decisions, and if you need a listener or an advocate you can come to us. And I'm certain life with Frederick will never be boring, which may be just the thing you need after your last ten years. He will be the perfect husband in public, and he knows how to avoid exposure. I know what he does is a terrible sin, but he didn't choose to be who he is, nor did Simon.'

By now they have arrived, and the Blackwood butler is holding the door while his master, a portly, good-natured looking man in his early fifties, offers to hand the ladies out.

'Miss de Bourgh,' he exclaims, 'it's so good to see you again!'

Anne smiles at him and introduces Elizabeth so he can assist her, too.

'Thank you, Mr Blackwood, you look very smart in pantaloons. May I introduce you to Mrs Darcy, whom you may have read about in the papers? Elizabeth, Mr Blackwood has been very kind to me, I'm certain you'll like him as much as I do.'

Of course Mr Blackwood kisses Elizabeth's hand in greeting before he hands her out, and she must admit that while he is not a handsome man, he is indeed a charmer.

'Mrs Darcy, I am so honoured to meet you. My wife always reads about you in the newspaper, and these last few weeks she has missed your appearances. She's looking forward very much to Miss Darcy's wedding, all her friends say Miss Darcy or Miss de Bourgh here will steal all the attention away from you, but she is convinced your French modiste will have outdone herself for the occasion to once again get all the honours.'

'I look forward to meeting your lady, Mr Blackwood, though I'm afraid her friends may yet turn out to be right. And I assure you that will not anger or disappoint me, there is no competition between Miss Darcy, Miss de Bourgh and me.'

Elizabeth wonders why no-one has ever noticed Jane during these public events. She is ever so much more beautiful than either of the others. Maybe it's because she hasn't adapted her style of dress to London yet. Maybe they should pay Miss Filliger a visit this afternoon, during their shopping trip for Charlotte, see whether they can get Jane in the papers before she starts to show her pregnancy.

After their introduction to Mrs Blackwood in the drawing-room, servants bring coffee and some lovely slices of pie, and Nick Fowler doesn't serve the coffee but sits and eats pie with them, Mr Blackwood watching him with pride as if the plain fellow is his very own son.

'My daughters are out, Mrs Darcy, visiting friends. I say let them enjoy their freedom for a few more months, soon enough they will both be married. Usually I'd have Nick accompany them, but your cousin Colonel Compton offered to go along so Nick could stay and discuss this trip you are planning. Is it very dangerous? We've nearly lost him once before, you know.'

Elizabeth knows, but she also knows Nick Fowler is looking for a new job because he expects to be dismissed as soon as his mistresses are married. Right now it doesn't seem Mr Blackwood is even planning to let him leave, he loves him too much. Anne soothes her friends' father expertly, of course she knows him well.

'Mr Darcy would never let his wife go somewhere dangerous, Mr Blackwood. It's more that we are planning to go without taking any gentlemen along, and we will both feel safer if we have a sturdy guard with us. Especially since we will be staying in a house a stone's throw from my mother's house, and you know she did try to have me taken that one time. And if Nick can wear his livery, my mother does think I'm engaged to Mr Manners, she will think he is the servant of an influential man and will not dare harm him. Nick will be perfectly safe, sir.'

'But why doesn't Mr Darcy accompany you?'

Nick doesn't like to hear his master making difficulties over his safety, he is his own man and he wants to come along, very much so. Elizabeth tries to explain without making a fuss.

'We will be staying with my cousin, who lives in a very humble parsonage near Rosings. My best friend is married to him and has recently had her first child. Miss de Bourgh and I want to visit her and her baby, but Mr Darcy dislikes my cousin. He would want to stay at an inn, when Miss de Bourgh and I prefer to stay at my cousin's house. Which is why we plan to leave Mr Darcy at home with his sister.'

'I understand, my wife has some relatives whom I'd like to avoid. Well, I suppose it's quite an honour for Nick to be asked to accompany you, and I like to see him move up in the world. We will miss him but we cannot hinder him, not with the girls about to marry.'

Fowler now shows himself aware of his special treatment and bows and observes to his master, 'Thank you very much, Mr Blackwood, I will be back before you know it. And you know I can talk myself out of virtually anything, please don't worry on my account.'

The pie is incredibly good, even Anne is eating it with relish though she generally seems to dislike sweet things. Mrs Blackwood hasn't said anything, she appears a bit distracted. She is not eating pie but is nursing a cup of tea as if it's a baby, and her cheeks have too much colour. Is she consumptive? She looks healthy enough otherwise, and Elizabeth cannot remember her hand feeling hot to the touch. Oh well, this has nothing to do with the family anyway, just a polite morning visit to guarantee Anne's safety in Kent.

When they take leave, Nick takes Anne's hand as if he is indeed the Blackwood heir, but she lets him easily enough. Mrs Blackwood finally says something, 'Mrs Darcy, I'm very honoured to have met you in person. I'll be looking forward to reading the news about Miss Darcy's wedding, I'm certain you will be mentioned. Thank you for coming.'

Elizabeth shakes her hand instead of curtsying, and a vague smell of spirits reaches her senses. She did not smell like that when they were introduced, she must have smuggled it in her teacup. Poor Mrs Blackwood, and poor Mr Blackwood.

'My pleasure, Mrs Blackwood, and I will try my best to be mentioned, if at all possible without making a total spectacle of myself. Let me tell you a little secret: if the reporter mentions my priceless jewellery, you'll know the stones are actually made of glass. I bought them in Newcastle, it's their local trade. Good day, and thank you for letting us have Mr Fowler for a few days.'

Mrs Blackwood looks suitably impressed by Elizabeth's confidence, and Mr Blackwood merely gives her a mournful look.

'I'm very glad my girls have found worthy husbands, Mrs Darcy, thanks to Miss de Bourgh.'

Fowler shows that, like Simon, he does know his place, waiting for Elizabeth to initiate their leavetaking. But Elizabeth has also learned things from Simon, and Fowler is one of those utterly loyal servants who are worth their weight in gold to those who like their privacy. Maybe they should hire him to replace Simon. But frankly, Elizabeth doesn't want to think of losing Simon, not until he and Frederick have set a date when they will finally sail. So in fact she is not that much different from Mr Blackwood. She offers Fowler her hand and takes his in a firm grip, like in the army camp.

'See you coming Friday, Mr Fowler, unless you come to visit Simon before that.'

'Thank you, ma'am.' He is impressed by her informality, good, Elizabeth does not want to be like Miss Bingley, now Mrs Grenfell. And Mr Blackwood is watching.

'I am planning to visit, though I assure you you won't notice my presence at all.'

He must be serious in trying to learn Simon's work. Good, it will save a world of trouble if Simon can recommend a successor when he leaves with Frederick.

Back in the carriage, Anne observes, 'Did you smell it? Poor Mr Blackwood, soon he will be left with her as his only company. He'll probably move to his office. I sometimes wonder whether they were head over heels at one time.'

Poor Anne. She is really in doubt about her future and there is nothing anyone of them can do but support her and hope she makes the right decision.

'I thought Fitzwilliam was unique in setting such high store by Simon, but Mr Blackwood surely adores Mr Fowler as much. I suppose a man really wants a son, though Simon used to be more like Fitzwilliam's younger brother.'

'I remember, Elizabeth. One time at Rosings maman complained to Darcy about his valet having no respect for his betters. He merely shrugged and said, 'What can I do, Aunt Catherine, there is but one man with such taste in coats and such proficiency in doing my hair just right. I'm afraid we'll have to indulge him, there are plenty of gentlemen who'd hire him away from me in a second.' Maman was livid. You seem to have tamed Simon, though, he shows you plenty of respect.'

'He does, but he does it out of love for Fitzwilliam. If people knew how much my fashionable look depends on him he'd be famous instantly. Of course he doesn't want to be noticed. Though he'd be bored living at Pemberley all the time, or on Frederick's estate. They both seem to need excitement to thrive.'

'As do I. No sitting at home for me until I'm old.'

'I guess I understand why you like them so much, Anne. Maybe love isn't everything...'


	111. Chapter 111

Chapter 121

Having spent the afternoon shopping with Mrs Bingley, Elizabeth and Simon, Anne is ready for a nice quiet evening at Eric's concert of that day. Frederick will be there, but he is not with their own party and Anne kind of misses him, though she looks forward to seeing him in the company of Mrs Grenfell senior. Apparently Frederick has arranged for uncle Spencer to be there, too, with a few friends of all sorts, men, women, married and widowed. All of them Mrs Grenfell's age and all of them year-round residents of London.

Fortunately Mr Bennet is in their own party, to stop Anne from feeling the odd one out among all the loving couples. Fitzwilliam and Spencer will not be present, apparently Spencer is making good use of his time in London by going to his brother's officer's club. Sophie is probably entertaining herself with her sister, carefully watched over by Nick and possibly Angelina's officer.

'You almost make me feel resigned about going out, Miss de Bourgh,' Mr Bennet observes, though he doesn't seem to mind that much. He is a queer personage, but very interesting to Anne. As long as he doesn't make fun of her, but so far he seems to have been able to refrain from being sarcastic, in fact he has been positively friendly, trying to talk to her about politics and the situation in the world, almost surprised at finding her interested and rather well-informed. Darcy has an excellent paper and Anne likes to stay ahead of the news.

'I'm very thankful to you, too, Mr Bennet, or I'd be on my own among all these happy couples, feeling abandoned by my own suitor. He is dating another lady tonight, I'll have to refrain from sending her nasty looks across the rows of people or the reporters will notice. Fortunately she is every day of fifty, a widow, and very outspoken. Apparently Frederick made a promise to take her to one of Mr Fielding's concerts as soon as she was in London.'

'Let me guess,' Mr Bennet offers, 'old Mrs Grenfell, also known as the old bat by the new Mrs Grenfell?'

'Exactly. You are well-informed, Mr Bennet.'

'I've spent some time with the latter, seeing as she and I seem to have quite some things in common. A certain disposition mostly, since she is ever so much prettier than I am.'

'And yet you look uncommonly fashionable, Mr Bennet, when did you start wearing pantaloons and shoes instead of breeches and boots?'

'Well, I'm going to make an admission to you which I will deny to anyone else. But I always feel a bit countryfied when in London, and with all these reporters lurking about the house and in these halls, I thought I'd better adapt to the latest style. I asked Simon to help me out, which he readily did. He even held his laughter until I was out of hearing. So you think it is not too youthful for someone my age?'

'First of all, I assure you I will not tell anyone what you just told me. And secondly, I think you have the perfect figure for pantaloons, I saw a pair on Mr Blackwood, you know, Sophie's father, just this morning and he did look a little portly in them. But they look very good on you, you look just a tiny bit villainous, like Darcy does when wearing black, very becoming.'

With such lively conversation half an hour flies by, and before Anne knows it she is seated in the front row of another large theatre, somewhere in London. Still chatting with Mr Bennet, but keeping an eye out for Frederick and especially his companion for the night, she is quite a bit rattled to see Lieutenant Talbot entering the hall, on the lookout from the very first, and of course for her. As he comes straight towards her, practically exuding admiration, Anne can see his companions approaching as well, Angelina and her fiancée Ensign Stockford, a friend of Lieutenant Talbot's. Which means that most likely...

'Miss de Bourgh, it's so good to see you again.'

No time to look for Nick, that would be uncommonly rude, he will be in her arms tomorrow evening, she can wait that long.

'Lieutenant Talbot, such a pleasure to see you! I thought the Misses Blackwood were over their admiration for Mr Fielding.'

'Oh they are, Miss de Bourgh. I asked my friend to come with me because I needed to see you again, and Miss Angelina asked to accompany us. Are these seats taken?'

Anne would prefer not to have the Lieutenant ogling her all night, but he is so disarming she cannot bluntly refuse him.

'No, they are still free. That is the advantage of arriving early.'

'Thank you, Miss de Bourgh. I can't seem to forget our afternoon together. One moment, please.'

And he waves at his friend, who approaches immediately with Angelina, and behind them, tagging along rather unhappily, is Nick. What a horrible way to spend an evening, accompanying an engaged couple who are undoubtedly wishing him away every single minute of their time together. Poor Nick! Anne catches his eye and tries to send him a heartening look, and he straightens and smiles, he usually doesn't care about these situations, maybe it's seeing Anne and not being able to talk to her.

'I'm so glad you're here, Miss de Bourgh, of course I like the music, Mr Fielding is a magnificent player, but I came here to see you.'

That's Nick's problem, he hates to see Lieutenant Talbot fawning over her. Well, there is nothing she can do about it now, they're early so it will be at least half an hour before the concert starts. It's not as if Anne likes to see the lieutenant like this. It's a bit embarrassing, she is with her own party and does not want to ignore Mr Bennet to spend time on an unasked-for admirer. And she wants to see Frederick and Mrs Grenfell meeting her uncle. What can she say? Well, she can start with acknowledging Angelina and Nick, so she gets up and greets her young friend heartily, and after that Angelina's rather average-looking fiancée, whom she remembers from their outing to the camp, of course. Frankly, he looked better in red. They shake hands, and then she looks straight at Nick and addresses him with as much warmth as she dares to put in her voice. They'll think she is still thankful for his saving her from that creepy fellow with the buggy.

'We meet again today, Nick. Has Miss Sophie gone out after all?'

His smile is enough to make her feel very warm and very much in love.

'No, the colonel went out to see his brother since he will stay in London only very shortly. She didn't want to come, said she'd rather stay at home. Reading or practising, most likely. Little Miss Sophie is changing, Miss de Bourgh, she is growing up rapidly.'

That is the Nick she knows. Now back to the lieutenant.

When she sits down, Mr Bennet raises one eyebrow to let her know he expects a full report once that is possible. At least he doesn't feel neglected, but of course he loves watching people and there is plenty of opportunity to do so. In fact he points out, 'Look, Miss de Bourgh, your uncle's party has arrived. And I guess that is Mr Manners with his companion.'

She thanks him for letting him know where they are, she'll seek them out after the show, and talks to the lieutenant a little longer, he is doing well but he says he cannot forget her. Why didn't he invite her to a café or a walk in the park? This is very uncomfortable. Fortunately there is enough to talk about until the music starts, and though Anne can see the lieutenant looking at her every so often, he does not try to touch her, as Nick tends to do when sitting next to her. The concert is beautiful, of course Eric and Georgiana will get married in two days, and a week later they will all be at Pemberley together, Eric must be filled with love at the moment.

Anne realises that if she accepts Frederick's proposal he will find a way to include Nick in their party. But if she hasn't decided by then, Nick will be left behind in London, and Anne will not even know what has happened to him and where he lives when she returns in fall. Unless she takes some action herself, hires him as her guard. But that means she needs to get a house of her own, with a staff to keep it. The hard truth hits her right as Eric starts on his most feeling work, and soon Anne's eyes and throat are burning with unshed tears.

'Let them fall, my dear, everyone is crying anyway,' Mr Bennet whispers for her ears only. He is right, they are. And Anne allows herself to shed a few tears, but then she reminds herself that six months ago she thought she was dying. She had been dying, and now she is healthy and strong, and beautiful. She has a right to be happy, and she need only reach out and take happiness. It is time to decide and let Frederick know what she will do: either marry him and be free, or live an independent life without husband, in a house of her own, with Nick as her footman. That will undoubtedly cause a lot of talk, and without Frederick she will not be as welcome in society as she will be with him, but she will be free. Lieutenant Talbot will just not do, nor will any other man she doesn't love and doesn't really trust.

Anne doesn't get the chance to go looking for her uncle and Frederick after the show, for the lieutenant pleads her to give him a moment of her time in a quiet corner of the hall. It is not what she wants at all, he knows she doesn't love him, why is he doing this to himself and to her? But to refuse him bluntly would be the death of him, really, she cannot believe how far gone he seems. While indulging him by seeking out a quiet spot by the far end of the stage, she does make sure it's in Nick's line of sight, hoping Angelina and Ensign Stockford will be content to stay in their seats until their friend returns. Anne is not going to risk the lieutenant trying to kiss her or worse, Nick will watch the two of them and intercede if needed.

'I'm so sorry to be bothering you with my feelings, Anne, I know you don't love me and I'm so very sorry about that. Won't you give me a chance, Anne? I'm a good man, you know I'd treat you well, I don't drink, I haven't had another woman since I met you. I'm not rich, but we'd have enough to live comfortably, and I can win a lot if it does come to war with the French. Or I'd quit the army if you prefer that. You don't know that you wouldn't come to love me, do you? I'd be the best husband ever.'

Oh my goodness, how is she going to get out of this situation without crushing a good man's heart? And she thought she had problems before. Suddenly she can understand how a woman might accept a man to keep him from being devastated like Ronald will be when she crushes his hope. She will never deliver herself to a man, she now knows that as surely as she feels the wooden boards of the stage under her hand, the paint peeling a little even at the edges. In desperation, she looks straight at Nick and sees him with a look similar to the lieutenant's, hopeless, lost in love, he has nothing to offer Anne and he knows it, he fears to lose her and to do so will break him as certainly as it will Ronald. Strangely enough that realisation hardens her resolve, and she gently takes the lieutenant's hand.

'I'm sorry, Ronald, I truly am. I cannot marry you, though I am convinced you will make someone the best husband ever. Just not me. I am not who you think I am, I am not the girl you dream about. You see my beauty, hear the gentleness years of education have given me. But that is not who I am, Ronald. I am restless, I want to see the world and live it to the full, I do not want to settle. Not even with a man I do love. No-one will ever own me again. Please forgive me.'

He looks at her, and though Anne is crushed by the grief she sees in his face, she is glad he is not angry. Though it would have been easier to forget him if he was resentful or unfair. His voice is husky as he says, 'No, it is I who am sorry. You told me you didn't love me, you told me before you were not looking to settle, and I forced you to hear it all again. I hope you can forgive me. Fare well, Anne, I won't bother you again.'

He kisses her hand and walks out of the hall, quite obviously devastated, leaving Anne on the verge of tears, again, but now she cannot let them fall without drawing attention to herself. She needs to talk to Nick, tell him the lieutenant is nothing to her, that she loves only him, but how? Ensign Stockford has undoubtedly seen his friend leave, and Nick cannot but follow his mistress. And here Anne is worrying about leading her own life, when Nick is doomed to follow orders all his life.

The realisation dries her tears instantly, and she straightens to find Nick in the crowd, she cannot run after him but she can look at him, he will recognise her feelings instantly. But he is nowhere to be found, they have left already, he will be in agony, he will have to ride home in a carriage with the man he thinks is his rival, a gentleman with a respectable name and a fortune of his own. But it will be clear she has refused him, won't it?

'Come, Miss de Bourgh, let's seek out your calm friend, that looked like something a fellow shouldn't do in a hall full of people, you need a strong shoulder, not an old man's.'

It's Mr Bennet, he has taken her arm and is leading her somewhere, talking in a low voice all this time, as if she is a horse about to bolt.

'If I'm not greatly mistaken, your Mr Manners will have a message for you from someone else who kept a very close eye on everything that was happening. A very humble fellow, but with the expression of a fierce predator. He had to follow his charge but managed to say something to Mr Manners on his way out. I'm quite sure it is meant for you, for what would a man like that have to do with the bachelor of bachelors? Come now, Miss Anne, it's not all that bad, you know, these fellows rant and rave but before you know it someone else catches their eye and they're happy all of a sudden. And you may look like someone's prize wife, beautiful and sweet, but like my Lizzy you have a set of teeth, you need to be with people who respect you, who can handle your having your own opinion. You need a man you can look up to, not one who grovels and begs. You'd walk right over him. You might be surprised how many sheep one can find in the army, whose courage is measured by the size of their regiment, who are merely obeying orders. Truly strong men don't need badges and stripes to prove their worth, they dare walk out of pace, like the fellow just now, like Mr Manners. Here you go, he is expecting you, he has kept an eye on you as well, you know, he is aware something is up. Now let's pretend everything is just jolly, all right? I'll start.

'Good evening, Mr Manners, will you do me the honour of introducing me to your lovely companion, so I can charm her while you talk to Miss de Bourgh?'

Anne cannot believe her ears, such a slick old man! How much does he know? He must be even smarter and more observant than his daughter, how else can he know what is going on behind the scenes in his daughter's household? He arrived just yesterday! As the introductions are made, Anne feels herself calming even more, Mrs Grenfell the older doesn't look like an old bat at all, she is rather pretty for her age and very polite and interested. Her dress is stunning though totally appropriate for her age.

'Now Mrs Grenfell, let's leave the young people to exchange some important news while you tell me whom you have met tonight and whom you feel is worth getting acquainted with.'

It is exactly the right question, for the lady is soon summing up names and titles and describing people, proving she has a sense of humour and, yes, respect. Frederick does not hold back and just takes Anne in his arms, right there in a public hall, of course he would do that with anyone who needed a hug, and Anne doesn't really care about propriety anymore, most of these people think they're engaged anyway.

'So tell me, was that what it looked like? In a hall full of people? When you told him before you didn't love him? Never mind, Anne, I'll shut up as soon as I've told you poor Nick's message. He merely said, 'Please beg her to marry you, for me.' And then he had to run to catch up.'

Anne couldn't speak, she just wanted to cry but couldn't.

'Don't say anything yet, dear Anne. Let me take you to Georgiana and Elizabeth to calm down a little, and tonight we'll talk. All right? I cannot leave Mrs Grenfell, but you're a strong woman, you just need a little peace and quiet to settle. Just tell them about the lieutenant, it's plenty of reason to indulge in a good cry behind the scenes if you still want to. One moment.'

He turns towards Mrs Grenfell and says, 'Will you please excuse me for ten minutes, Mrs Grenfell? My friend here is a bit disconcerted, I'm going to take her to Miss Darcy back stage, it will be quieter there.'

'Why don't you let me do the honours, Mr Manners? With Miss Anne's permission of course? Then you can stay with your charming companion.'

Yes, that is even better, let Mr Bennet bring her back stage.

'It's fine, Frederick. I'll see you tonight. Enjoy your evening, Mrs Grenfell!'

'Thank you child, I will. Best night of my life since years.'

This time, Mr Bennet doesn't say anything, he does have a perfect instinct for hysterical ladies. Anne is almost ashamed to have made a scene, but no-one looks at her except to admire her beauty. She is getting used to that, but slowly. Eric is still talking to someone from the audience but it is clear he cannot last much longer, he looks totally worn out once again. Georgiana is with him, and when she sees Anne she instantly understands something has happened, taking her arm and leading her behind the stage. Mr Bennet stays in the hall.

'Anne, you look as if you've seen a ghost, will you tell me what happened?'

At least she can tell the entire truth to Georgiana.

'A lieutenant from cousin Fitzwilliam's camp fell in love with me, and though I told him before I cannot love him he asked me to marry him. After claiming my attention all night, right in front of Nick, whose Miss Angelina dates this lieutenant's friend. Both were devastated, I feel awful. I had to break the lieutenant's heart and couldn't talk to Nick, he had to leave with him and sit in the carriage with him. Nick did leave a message with Frederick. Mr Bennet was really nice, I was really upset and he helped me to not make a scene. But he knows a lot more about what is going on in your house than it seems, he saw Nick watching me, and I think he suspects Frederick is up to something.'

'He won't talk, don't worry. Just sit down and enjoy the quiet, Eric will be along soon and I guess Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth and maybe Mr Bennet. I'll tell them about the lieutenant if they ask. We can talk later, if you want to, though I suppose Frederick already offered.'

And Georgiana pours a glass of water for Anne, which is very welcome, for all to soon the others enter the room and Anne needs to be a little more like herself. Eric looks totally worn out, how can he do this to himself every night? And then practise all day the next day, as if nothing happened?

'Only four to go this season, Fielding, you may yet survive,' Darcy says, and Eric smiles.

'I am going to miss playing for an audience, but I'm not going to miss the incessant talking afterwards. When those Blackwood girls found themselves a suitor, four others took their place! Still, they pay the rent and I thank them for it. But there is just one woman for me.'

However much he feels for Anne, and yes, for the lieutenant and Nick, too, still Frederick cannot help being in an excellent mood, a sense of triumph trying to take hold of him constantly as he leads Mrs Grenfell back to his carriage. She has had a fabulous time, and she has been fabulous company, sober, outgoing and very fashionably dressed. Earl Compton played his part with flair, attending the concert with a whole group of his London friends, introducing them to Mrs Grenfell before the show, then discussing it together afterwards. A scheme gone right, Elizabeth would call it, and not even she would object to Frederick using his host's connections to set up a lonely lady with a new group of friends. Young Mrs Grenfell better beware, by the time she joins society next fall her name will be known already among the beau monde of London, but it will be associated with a polite, lady-like widow, not a self-styled flamboyant young upstart.

But of course that is not the reason why Frederick can hardly control his excitement, he will have to do something about that, no-one likes to witness someone rubbing in a triumph, not when others are suffering for it. While Mrs Grenfell was making acquaintances by the dozen, Frederick watched Anne chatting with Mr Bennet, then being disturbed by Lieutenant Talbot, to this very day his most important rival for her affections because he could offer her a proper marriage with a handsome, loving, well-to-do man. You might say the lieutenant to Frederick symbolised the possibility of Anne finding true love among her own class. Then there was Nick trying not to watch her, in growing desperation. Even from across the hall it was clear to Frederick that Talbot was proposing to Anne, right there, and that Anne felt horrible about the whole thing. Her bad luck turned out to be Frederick's main triumph, for it drove home to Nick that his beloved might fall in love with an eligible man at any time. Unless she was married to someone who didn't love her. What Frederick didn't tell Anne was own his reply to Nick's hasty but profound message: wait for me outside your master's house at midnight.

Elizabeth and Darcy will be outraged at Frederick taking such direct action to almost force Anne's decision, but they don't realise how important this marriage is for all four of them. The only way Anne can be certain of leading a life of her own is being married to Frederick.

Mr Bennet's interference was a surprise, but Frederick has reason to believe the old man is not entirely averse to people taking their own lives firmly in hand, even if that counters propriety and even religion. The way Frederick is feeling now, not even the thought of one contrary old man can spoil his good humour, no matter how smart, discerning and influential the fellow is with Elizabeth, and Darcy as well. Anne will make the decision, and Frederick is convinced that those few who know this will not be the fairytale marriage from the papers but merely one of convenience will have to just accept it.

'You look mighty pleased, Frederick,' his companion observes, once they are settled in his carriage on their way back to her house. 'Was that young lady the one you are planning to wed? She is incredibly gorgeous, even in distress. And that nice gentleman was not her father, but who is he?'

'I am indeed pleased, Mrs Grenfell, pleased you have made so many new acquaintances, and such superior ones. Pleased that you have adapted so well to city life, look so fashionable and well-groomed, behave so perfectly genteel, and know how to enjoy yourself. But I'm mostly pleased because I think that after tonight, that young lady will finally decide to favour me with her hand and part of her heart. And the elderly gentleman is Mrs Darcy's father, not Miss de Bourgh's. He possesses the sharpest mind I know of, excepting perhaps his daughter and Miss de Bourgh, but of course they lack his life's experience.'

'You are the most interesting man I know, Frederick. I hope we can meet once in awhile whenever you are in London. I cannot wait to get to know your young lady and the rest of your friends. Though I am afraid my daughter-in-law will try to keep me away from them, and she has been intimate with Mr Darcy and his relatives and friends for years.'

Time for an explanation, Mrs Grenfell need not worry at all if she keeps up her current commendable behaviour.

'Caroline only knows Darcy and her own brother, Mr Bingley, who don't really have an interest in society. It was Mr Fielding's engagement to Miss Darcy that forced them out of hiding. Well, and me. After Fielding's marriage they will retreat to the country,where they feel more at home. And your daughter-in-law cannot influence the beau monde, for firstly, it decides for itself, and secondly, she is not part of it, yet. And while she is very self-assured and reasonably fashionable, she seems to lack the general politeness and niceness needed to become popular. Mrs Darcy has it, my very own Miss de Bourgh certainly has it, and of course there is me. While it sounds very much like bragging, Mrs Grenfell, there is one person who does have some influence on the beau monde: I have. I like you, and I know everybody who is somebody. Steer clear of the spirits, treat everybody nicely and according to their rank, dress fashionably and seek out the right people to associate with, and you will find yourself deeper in society than your daughter-in-law will ever manage to get. She is generally not nice enough and she lacks respect, is too self-confident.'

Mrs Grenfell nods happily and observes, 'I understand, Frederick, and you will not find me wanting. Fortunately Bertie is like Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley, he prefers the country. Maybe I'll have Caroline over next winter and show her around, if she promises faithfully to treat my connections nicely.'

'That is the spirit, Mrs Grenfell. Once I've taken you back to your lovely little house I am going to spend a few more hours on my own future. Please pray for me, Mrs Grenfell, this is going to be a very important night for me.'

'I will, my son, thank you for doing all this for me. I have really enjoyed the music, and the company and all the rest. I hope you get what you want, tonight.'

They part with an embrace and a kiss, and Frederick directs his driver to the Blackwood mansion, where indeed Nick is waiting outside, stepping from the shadow of a large bush as soon as he recognises the carriage. He opens the door of the carriage hesitantly, until Frederick calls out, 'Do come in, Nick, there is no need for formality after midnight.'

Nick sits down and observes, 'I did not ask for permission to leave, Mr Manners, there was no-one still awake to do so.'

'Please call me Frederick in private, Nick. I'm planning to return you before anyone notices, but if this evening proceeds as I hope you will no longer need to ask permission from anyone for anything you do. You'll pretend to be a servant, but you will be your own man, Nick.'

'I have no idea how that would come about, sir, but I trust you, and I will do whatever you think best.´

Frederick cannot help laughing, and retorts, 'I still think it's not too late to wean you away from servitude, Nick. I may use this summer at Pemberley to teach you how to be a gentleman, and then you can be my baby-brother when we go to the continent. But before we can make plans of any kind, Anne still has to accept my proposal, and there is something I need to tell you.'

'That is exactly what Simon said yesterday, just before he told me something very shocking.'

'And what did you think of the thing he told you?'

Nick shakes his head with energy and says, 'I cannot tell you, sir, that was very personal. I shouldn't have said what I did, I'm sorry.'

Better, even better.

'I know what Simon told you, Nick, it was about him not being attracted to women. Do you mind? And keep trying, my name is Frederick.'

'I'll try, Frederick, but you're the kind of man I tend to be a little cautious around, powerful, self-assured, you know. Anyway, since you seem to know about Simon already. I was shocked, but I couldn't think of a single thing that would change. I like him, I can imagine playing the servants' quarters together while you and Anne work on the front, it sounds exciting. Since I'm trying to be brave towards you, I'll admit I'm more worried about your girl, the one you can't marry. I cannot imagine someone you could not force your peers to accept, she'd have to be hideous or cheap or something other that is very bad. I don't know how she'd treat Anne, wouldn't she be very jealous of such a beautiful woman?'

'Nick, the love of my life is not hideous or nasty in any way, but stunningly beautiful, kind, smart and very good to me. Anne knows who it is and she doesn't share your fears, though I commend you for thinking of her before yourself. I have to tell you whom I love, but if you tell anyone else our lives will be ruined.'

'Of course I won't tell on you, who do you think I am? But wait a minute, are you suggesting it is someone I know? How can that be, Frederick? If you can turn me into a gentleman, you can use the same time to teach any serving girl to behave in the right way, can't you?'

This is not going well, Nick should have guessed by now, he really cannot face a man being with a man. Still, Frederick is in a confident mood.

'It's Simon, Nick. I can't marry a man, no matter how perfect he is.'

Silence. Nick is lost in thought, not shock or loathing, fortunately. After a full five minutes that seem like eternity to Frederick, he says in a tiny voice, 'I should have seen that one coming, shouldn't I? It's so obvious now. Doesn't he hate the very idea of you getting married? You don't need to, to be with him. You can just move to your estate with your new valet and be together most of the time. No-one would suspect, I certainly didn't.'

'People are starting to talk, Nick, they are wondering why I haven't married, yet. If I want to remain active in society I can't have that. Simon understands, he needs excitement in his life as much as I do. As much as Anne does.'

'As much as I do. It's just perfect, isn't it? You have a dream wedding, pretend to be a perfect couple, and no-one suspects. Anne knows, found out herself. Who else does? They'll know your marriage is a sham.'

That is it, he is thinking again, this is the experienced philanderer calculating what will and what won't be possible.

'Mr and Mrs Darcy, Miss Darcy and Mr Fielding, and now you. No-one else should know.'

'And Anne knows you can never rule her because you have this huge secret yourself. Damn you, Frederick, I just cannot imagine you and Simon, how can you not love a woman? I guess I just don't understand. Not yet.'

'Believe me, I tried to fit in, not as hard as Simon did, though, I've never been with a woman, never had much contact with them anyway since I have been at school all my youth. But I actually like children, I would have liked to start a family, kiss in public...'

That truly upsets Nick.

'So if Anne agrees you are going to get married with the two of us nowhere in sight. That is kind of brutal.' Another silence and then, 'You'll have to kiss her.'

'She is not going to marry you, Nick.'

'I know, I know, and I agree, she cannot live as my mother did. And more importantly, she cannot trust me, not after what I did for years and years. And she trusts you even without having your secret as security. But I don't have to like it, and I bet Simon doesn't either.'

'You can discuss it with him as soon as I have smuggled you inside, Nick, for I suppose Anne expects to see me in private first. Unless you cannot accept what I told you about Simon and myself, in which case I can take you to Miss Anne directly to discuss other ways you can be together.'

He is not going to plead with Nick, if the man doesn't want to be associated with sodomites no amount of begging is going to make him relent. But there is no need, though Nick does seem to have lost some of his almost fearful respect for Mr Manners, and shows his birth and upbringing more than ever before in Frederick's presence.

'Don't be an idiot, Frederick, you know as well as I do that Anne will never see me again if I refuse to accept the two of you. As long as I can have a sweet, soft lady in my arms, why should I care that the two of you prefer to hold something more solid?'

Such fun they'll have together, Frederick didn't know Nick was capable of such filthy thoughts! Despite the seriousness of the moment, dare he say momentousness?, he can't help laughing out loud.

'I love you, Nick, though I promise it's purely platonic. I cannot help it if you make comments like these, please keep doing that, I think even Anne will appreciate it. You know Simon can hide his upbringing like no-one else, but he can also talk filth like no-one else. You will be like peas in a pod. Again, platonic, though Simon does apparently fancy broad-shouldered, plain-faced fellows.'

'I know you don't fancy me or I would have found out much sooner. I feel a bit dumb and naïve, you've both been hitting me over the head with it for weeks and I never noticed. Anne never gave away a thing, I totally understand why you'd want her as your partner in crime. For the moment I just feel relief that you two will never be competition for me, and that there will not be some jealous street-waif waiting for a chance to stab Anne in the back.'

By now they have arrived at Darcy's town house, and Frederick's driver halts right in front, as usual. Despite Simon being the servant opening the door at this time of the night, Frederick bids Nick to stay in the carriage and enter the house through the back door, Anne may be waiting for Frederick in the hall for he did promise they'd have a long talk. Simon will lead Nick to his own room where they can discuss the consequences of their lovers getting married to one another. If Nick can get over the shock he has received just now.

Simon does open the door at the very moment Frederick approaches it, and he looks worried.

'Anne told me what happened, Frederick, she is waiting for you in the little confidence room, did you have to take Mrs Grenfell to a club when you knew Anne was in a state? That is no way to treat your wife, you know, you'll have to do better than that.'

Suddenly, Frederick gets very nervous, it sounds as if Anne is ready to commit herself to him, to them, actually, and Simon seems all right with that. But Elizabeth and Darcy will be angry at him, maybe too much to forgive him his meddling this time.

'You will come with me if they throw me out, won't you?'

That doesn't sound like the self-assured Mr Manners, but Simon knows him. And loves him, for he takes Frederick in his arms and kisses him sweetly.

'I will, my beloved. I love you and I will stick to your side for as long as you'll have me. What happened to make you so little like yourself?'

It is good to be held and comforted, and Frederick feels his optimistic mood returning, but Simon did say something that needs addressing first.

'I love you, Simon, and I will not tire of you then dump you. I know love doesn't always last, but that is other people's love, I'm sure I'll love you forever. And I assure you, you will not be left stranded should something happen to me. My lawyer has a document in his possession to make sure of that, just waiting to be signed and sealed.'

Thanks to Darcy giving him the perfect example of how to provide for a truly loved one. Maybe they'll need to make one of those for Nick, too. One cannot make a gentleman out of a man then kick him back on the streets if something doesn't work out. Meanwhile, Simon doesn't understand and Frederick has no time to explain, so he kisses his beloved and says, 'I'll explain later. I didn't take Mrs Grenfell to a club, I fetched Nick and told him about us. I suppose he'll get used to it, at least he was relieved there was no low woman attached to me. He's in the stables as we speak.'

Simon is so sweet, and so understanding.

'It's fine, Frederick, I'm sorry I spoke to you like that. I'm sure she'll forgive you for being a bit late. I suppose I'd better go get Nick then, before your driver starts to wonder why you fetch that fellow so often.'

'He already did, though he didn't say anything. I told him I want to hire Nick to guard my future wife but he needs some convincing, and Bates bought it. Gave me a big wink and said the fellow would soon find out working for me had certain advantages. I aimed to make him think I was celebrating Nick to steal him away from his current master, and I think he believed me. We appear to have one large advantage, Simon, it seems men in general are virtually unable to imagine two men being together. Their minds just don't accept it unless presented with direct proof. Once I'm married, no-one will believe any gossip of the kind. They will believe my wife cheating on me with her guard, but that is my business, not theirs. We may yet pull this off and indeed live happily ever after.'

They kiss one last time, then separate, it can be hard but they are used to it by now. Anne is waiting, hopefully with the best news for both of them, actually, all four of them.


	112. Chapter 112

Chapter 122

It is still the very best moment of the day, when they crawl under their lovely warm blankets together and talk about what has happened that day. Of course Darcy likes to make love with the sweetest and most beautiful woman in the world, but the mere act of lying in each other's arms and exchanging thoughts and feelings is so much better still. Stroking, fondling and kissing are part of that, true passion is for another moment these days. Though he has always been capable of controlling his urges, lately they don't even try to take over anymore, he can hold his beloved and stroke her without his baser self insisting on doing all kinds of other things. It has become more patient and willing to postpone lovemaking, and though Darcy suspects Elizabeth hasn't noticed the difference, it does make it easier to talk seriously during these quiet moments all by themselves.

Which is a real attainment for they are rarely by themselves anymore, and even at Pemberley there will be friends around all the time to preclude them from sharing their innermost thoughts freely. Those two weeks' honeymoon at Pemberley seem ages ago, even during their trip to Newcastle there were constant demands on their time. Well, they'd better enjoy the company of friends and family for it may not be too long before a whole bunch of them, including dear Georgie, will be going on a very dangerous journey overseas.

'You're very quiet, love, is something bothering you?'

Elizabeth seems to have the opposite, instead of her physical urges calming down she seems to be able to feel them more, or feel free to share them more. As she addresses him with a calm, compassionate voice, her body and hands beg to differ, she is lying in the crook of his arm, snuggled as close to him as she can, one leg over his almost possessively. And she is stroking him in places that would have had him wound up in a second a few months ago, but that merely give him a pleasant sense of heat right now. All in all, they are very comfortable like this, and Darcy is ready to share his feelings with the woman he loves beyond distraction.

'Won't the gods be jealous when they see how much I love you, Elizabeth? And strike us with misfortune to punish us for our hubris?'

'I can ask Will if you want, it'll give us something to talk about next Friday besides babies. Though I suppose he'll tell Lady Catherine that the heathenish fashion of London has led you astray.'

'I'm certain aunt Catherine disapproves of the classical style, since it is so becoming to slim ladies like yourself and Anne and Georgie, whilst making more robust women like herself seem about to topple. I suppose Greek ladies in those ancient days were never overweight, nor built on a more massive scale.'

'I love you just as much as you love me and if anyone objects, divine or not, so be it.'

'I'll miss you when you are gone.'

'I know, and I'll miss you, too, despite being with Will. But you'll have your friends and I'll have Anne, and Charlotte I suppose. We'll both be fine for two days, the weather has improved a lot and the roads will be dry. We'll be there and back in no time, and Charlotte will be so very happy.'

Darcy can't help asking, 'Do you think Anne is going to marry Manners?'

She takes her time to think of an answer, which says enough.

'Yes, my love, I think she is. And I think tonight was the moment of truth, with that lieutenant proposing to her in a hall full of strangers. What was he thinking? Somehow I think that made her decide to choose someone she can trust over someone who loves her blindly. Marrying for love is a leap of faith and I think Anne wants some security. I think papa actually approves, he wouldn't have brought her to him otherwise.'

'But your father doesn't know Manners isn't free to love her!'

'Maybe he doesn't, but he does know they aren't in love. And he knows from experience how much feelings can change even if one starts out deeply in love. I think Frederick will be a perfect partner for Anne, and I'm certain they'll solve any possible problems themselves. She is not a sixteen-year-old girl who has no idea what love is, Fitzwilliam. Maybe Anne hasn't lived much, but she has seen a lot, her parents, your parents, your uncle and his beloved wife, Charlotte and Mr Collins, Mrs Jenkinson must have been married, she has seen us, and Georgiana, I think she knows what to expect of married life. And she knows exactly what she doesn't want, and you and I both know that is most likely what she'd get if she waited for her prince to come and get her. Even if one of our princes really came to love her, she'd still be stuck pregnant in a roomful of children, sewing with gold thread but with her life come to a halt all the same.'

Well, what can a fellow say to that?

'I suppose you know best, my love, though I cannot really imagine my cousin living in sin. Still, I suppose she won't let me stop her, and I wish her the best no matter what, I guess no-one will ever find out. So, do you think their wedding will be as splendid as Georgie's?'

'Either it will be a lot more splendid, or a lot less. Georgiana's wedding will probably be a disappointment for a lot of people who believe what the newspapers write. But I suppose she won't mind at all, as long as she gets what she wants. Your little sister all grown up, Fitzwilliam, aren't you nervous?'

'I am, very much so, especially since they both say they aren't grown up at all and have so much still to learn. And then they'll go to the continent into who knows how much danger. But I know it's what Georgie wants as well, there is nothing I can do except hope for the best.'

'Will you worry as much if they go with Frederick? He is very grown up indeed.'

'That may be so, my love, but then Anne will want to go, too, and Simon.'

'But Eric has been on the continent before, even in some very wild mountains, and he came back just fine.'

'You didn't hear him yesterday, talking to Manners, advising him to hire that fellow you're taking to Kent, what's his name again?'

'Nick Fowler.'

'That's the one. Fielding wants to take him along as protection against robbers. But what can one single man do? And Georgie and Anne with them.'

'You'll just have to teach them all how to shoot, and I'm sure the continent is much more civilised than you think. Maybe not those mountains, and some desolated poor areas and maybe the opposite, large cities where too many people are living close together, and still in poverty. But Eric speaks German fluently, and everyone else French. And I'm sure Mr Clementi will arrange visits for them with people he knows in the Lower Countries and Germany, and I suppose Frederick has connections as well. So many young men travel the continent before settling, Fitzwilliam, and all of them return. And imagine, Eric playing in Vienna, with an orchestra. I wish I could be there. Though just for the concert, I don't want to travel for months and dress up the rest of the time. I'll stay with you at Pemberley and enjoy riding, maybe travel to the Lakes or some other beautiful part of good old England.'

'And you will have whatever you like, my dear,' he observes, suddenly very aware of his beloved's lovely creamy skin, and her delicious scent, and most of all, what her small but capable hands are doing to certain very intimate spots of his body. She knows exactly how to handle him, he is still very ticklish but she never causes him to jump in startlement anymore, they have grown so very close physically as well.

'Why thank you, Mr Darcy, that is very generous of you!'

What is she doing calling him that? He is perfectly fine, isn't he? The way she says his last name still drives him mad with lust, though he does not feel the need to fall at her feet at all, on the contrary, he likes it perfectly fine where he is right now. Especially since his beloved now straddles him and starts to ride him with enthusiasm. Darcy cannot say a word, his lust has taken over and he is clutching the bedclothes to keep from letting his baser self decide what to do next. She probably thinks he is silent out of respect or meekness, but nothing could be further from the truth, his ardour is raging.

'It's been so long, I don't know if I can still ride astride, I thought I'd practise on you every so often.'

Yes, yes, an excellent idea, this is so good, except it is getting a little too exciting, he won't last another minute this way! Letting out his extreme ardour, he lifts her off his body and onto his face, eager to have his own share of the action, and to make their loving last a little longer.

When they are totally sated and lying back against the back of the bed, Elizabeth snuggles even closer and finally utters her surprise.

'You weren't at all as I expected!'

'I know. It was the jealousy that made me feel small and needy, my love, and thanks to Mr Kemble and good old Bob I finally found the solution. Though it is still the most exciting thing that can happen to me, you calling me Mr Darcy.'

Of course she doesn't accept his mere mentioning of two totally different people, and they spend another hour awake in which he explains how those two men helped him find the cause of his jealousy and the solution.

'Dear Bob, to think he dared talk to you so freely about matters of love. I'm certain Fanny will be supremely happy with him, you don't mind visiting their ceremony tomorrow, do you?'

'I certainly don't. With all the goings-on in our house I'm glad to have loyal staff, imagine the mischief they could cause if they went snooping, like Mr Collins. And I must admit I'm very curious to meet Mrs Baker, Fanny's mum. She must be quite a character.'

'Mrs Baker would no doubt be scandalized if she knew, my love. But I'm afraid I don't care a bit, I like Frederick and Simon, and I hope they won't run into trouble at Pemberley, with Mrs Reynolds keeping an eye on things.'

'I'm sure they will find a way to solve it, my dear. The back of the house goes up all the way to the attics over there, you know, and hardly anyone uses the rooms on the first and second floor. I suppose Simon could take one of the rooms on top, and no-one would notice any comings and goings. I know Manners' man will not be coming, he has a new position in town.'

Talking about Pemberley makes Darcy long to be there, and Elizabeth soon proves her mind isn't occupied any differently.

'I can't wait to go to the country, the weather is turning and I want to see the park from the earliest spring all the way into fall. To ride out with Georgiana, and all the others. But we can't do that, can we? Not with just the one horse to share among us.'

Is this the moment? Darcy knows Elizabeth will not really appreciate a true surprise, not with a large, strong horse involved, a real hunter.

'I guess there won't really be a problem, Elizabeth. We'll save Daisy for Georgiana, the men can start out on one of my road-horses, I usually ride the black now but I have two others that are a good deal easier to handle. And while they take their lessons with Peter, you can take yours with his missus on your very own hunter. Hugo managed to find exactly what we were looking for and Mrs Norman has been coming to the house to train your new gelding several times a week for a few weeks now.'

'You got me a hunter already?'

In the dark, he cannot see whether she is pleased or just shocked, but he thinks the first.

'Now I really can't wait to move back to Pemberley. Though I will be desperately afraid at first, is he very tall? And he's not like Bucephalus, is he?'

'Of course I would never buy you a high-strung stallion as your first hunter, my love. I've had Hugo look for a fast horse with a little spirit, but not too much, and very obedient. He is much like Bernice, I think, except this is a gelding and he is much prettier since he is a real hunter, not an army horse turned out too elegant for the army. He is a light bay, you'll love him I think. Peter told me in the deepest secret his missus likes him tremendously. Apparently she is not as reckless anymore after having a child, maybe we should tell her father about the Drummond hunter, I think it will become hugely popular and much less dangerous to break to the saddle than your usual hunter.'

'Thank you, love, for doing this for me. I liked Bernice a lot, though I felt bad for Daisy to have to admit she is not the best horse around. But your sister will love her, I think she will not want to risk her hands and neck riding a more spirited horse.'

It is becoming virtually impossible to stay awake, but Darcy is very pleased his surprise is welcomed by his beloved. Still in each other's arms, they fall asleep, counting the days until their public life will end, though with a wedding that will put them in the spotlight one more time.

Simon expects to find Nick in the deserted common-room since there is nothing for him in the stables and he should know his way through the house by now. But he is not there, nor in Simon's own room, and he can't be in the little office because that is kept locked to prevent misunderstandings over the cashbox, ever since Mr Collins' nightly excursion a few weeks ago. He must still be in the stables, then. And indeed he is, talking to Frederick's driver, an average-looking, totally uninteresting man in his thirties whom Frederick always addresses as Bates. He usually stays at Frederick's town house and brings over the carriage whenever his master wants to use it, because, as Frederick says himself, 'Darcy has just the one stable boy and it would be foolishness to hire another one when I have a perfectly serviceable stables myself.'

Bates should be back at Frederick's town house already, and Simon wonders what the two men are talking about. No chance to listen in, though, as soon as Bates spies Mr Darcy's housekeeper on the prowl in the middle of the night he taps his cap and says conspiratorially, 'Well, enjoy yourself, I'm on my way back to the stables! Nice talking to you, Fowler!'

As soon as he has left the building they can hear the sound of shod hooves on the cobbles of the yard, Bates has indeed left the premises. Their own horses are not as quiet as one would expect at night, they are snorting and moving around in their stalls restlessly. Of course there are a lot of horses staying here for a private stables in the city, and four of them thoroughbreds, but at the moment Bob still has Mr Hugo to help him care for the whole lot: Mr Darcy will not have Bob exercising eight horses on his wedding day, and the new boy, who is to take over the care of the slow team once the family moves to the country, is not allowed to so much as touch the thoroughbreds without supervision.

'Thank God you came to save me from that fellow, Simon! I swear he thinks I am one of you guys, insinuating that Mr Manners fetched me to have a really good time!'

Yes, that is true, Nick will need a thorough introduction into Frederick's methods of keeping his staff happy and decidedly un-curious, whatever grotesque things they may see during their work.

'You are quite mistaken, Nick, if even one of Frederick's staff knows his secret it most certainly isn't Bates. Come, let's get out of here, these horses make me nervous with their fidgeting. I'll explain what Bates meant with his innuendo, it's actually a clever ploy of Frederick's to keep them amused with what they think their master is doing.'

Nick is curious but does observe, 'Actually, those horses will probably calm down once we're gone: Bates told me they're restless because they don't like a stable full of strangers. Shame, I was hoping to explore the charms of the last stall, but I suppose the horses will give us away if we stay there for too long. Unless we make friends with them first, but I'm not that comfortable around horses. They're so much taller and stronger than a man, how can anyone handle four of them at the same time, even if they are rather small and skinny like your master's team? I wanted to ask Bates but he kept implying that Mr Manners must want my services very much to fetch me in person past midnight. He even wondered aloud what the entertainment might consist of, though he never mentioned anything concrete. You can imagine what I thought he meant!'

Simon can't help laughing at Nick's words and his expression while telling Simon of his time with Bates. Before they reach the common-room Simon draws both of them a tall glass of ale from the barrel in the store-room, it's not exactly according to the rules but the barrel will get old once they all leave, neither Cook nor Mrs Annesley drink ale, and the stable boy is a bit young and new to the family to allow him to be tempted. It would be such a waste to let perfectly good ale spoil.

A few sips of ale can help a man relax, Simon knows Nick has been through a considerable shock that night and he will undoubtedly tell Simon about that, but first he explains what Bates meant.

'Have you heard of Frederick's college clique, Nick?'

Nick nods.

'Anne told me about them when she was unwell, and I saw Mrs Grenfell myself.'

'Frederick used to host parties for his friends, very rowdy parties, with a lot of ladies of a certain profession. He never made use of them but his staff doesn't know that. They only know that sometimes a fellow who does the the master a favour will get some time to spend with one of those girls as well. Frederick wants them to think he enjoys girls like that, is still a bachelor because of that, and wants his future wife closely attended to because she might otherwise find out. Which is where you come in.'

Nick is shocked all right, but he soon nods in understanding.

'So that is what the fellow thought I would be doing here tonight. It would be pretty brazen of Mr Manners to have a girl like that over at Mr Darcy's place. But I suppose they don't think about that. He is a clever fellow, Mr Manners, to keep them eager to please him and give them something to gossip about without ever coming even near the truth. They will be falling over themselves to keep Anne from finding out, and they'll tell me everything. I bet Mr Manners feels torn between enjoying the peace and being bored out here, where there are only a few rather naïve staff members to avoid. Though he and Anne are not the only ones from the house to come out back, you might want to be careful about that.'

'You mean Mrs Grenfell? I suppose she will not be visiting again. She had a quest to fulfil and it didn't exactly work out as planned. She is not the kind to frequent the back of the house.'

'No, no, not her. A man, an old man. I saw him go in as I was waiting for Anne in the window seat, and I passed him when I went back in, I had to wait for him to return to the house before I dared enter your room. He came all the way from the back, where the store rooms are. I forgot all about it because, you know, it was just before I met Anne. And she sent me to warn you about that Grenfell woman.'

Simon cannot think of any old men in their house but Earl Compton and Mr Bennet.

'Really old, or about fifty?'

'I suppose about fifty, but that's quite old, isn't it? Anyway, I thought he was with one of the guests, you know, maybe a personal attendant, but I saw him again tonight, with Anne. He was in their party so I guess he must be someone's relative.'

Oh my God! Mr Bennet, it had to be! Undoubtedly looking for Mrs Annesley, who used to have a nice room with a view of the yard at the very back of the house. Most staff dislike the outside noises disturbing their few moments of rest on their days off, which is why it is still empty now. Mrs Annesley always said she didn't mind, she was used to getting up early and she liked the view. Is she still using it sometimes, to meet Mr Bennet?

'Is it very bad? I didn't tell anyone, not even Anne. Don't even tell me who the fellow is, he seemed nice, was nice to Anne, just take care not to have him catch you and Frederick together. And maybe it was a one-off, he was in and out in a minute.'

Mrs Annesley was not in, yesterday, she had a day off because her husband is doing badly. In fact, she told Simon she didn't expect him to last the year, he had been in consumption for almost a decade and she suspected her regular presence in the house had caused him to finally let go. Apparently he'd clung to life to take care of their children, or more accurately, to use her income to hire help to take care of everything, including himself. Poor Mrs Annesley, Simon could understand her seeking comfort with a calm, kind man like Mr Bennet. Too bad society wouldn't.

'It may be, Nick. Please do keep this to yourself. Thank you for your warning, though I guess the two of us are safe, this man will not go to the back after dinnertime. But you will do well to look out for him, if he is indeed doing what I suspect he may be doing. But maybe they're just talking.'

That last is meant for himself and Nick, true to his promise, does not ask who were just talking. He merely nods in assent and takes another sip of his excellent ale.

'So I guess we'll have a fabulous time together?'

That is more like it, for they will.

'I am convinced we'll all have a much better life if Anne and Frederick marry, yes. We'll both be personal staff with nothing to do but watch others, draw them out and chat, then tell Anne and Frederick all about it. And once we go to the continent we can even be together most of the time. Though I'll hate not being at the wedding, or worse, being there as a servant. It'll be quite a thing, you know, Frederick has a reputation for throwing spectacular parties, and not just with his college friends.'

Simon delivers that last statement with a wink, but Nick is nonetheless not amused.

'I'd rather be far away than to have to witness Anne kissing another man than myself. Even though I must have kissed about a hundred women. I know I'm a hypocrite to feel that way, but still I cannot help it.'

'Maybe we should throw a party of our own in the back of the house. And anyway, they can't have a big wedding before the end of the season, next Monday we're off to Pemberley.'

'This Monday? And Anne is coming with you? But...'

Nick looks not just struck, but beaten.

'You knew that, didn't you? Anne must have told you.'

'I suppose she did, but I didn't realise it was this Monday. Damn. Then I'm lost, I'll never see her again, by the time you get back she'll have found someone else. As long as I stay with her all will be well, but I've nothing to offer her, Simon, she'll forget me within the month.'

And he believes it, too. It's how he has been used to love, no doubt, if a lady stopped showing up, another would take her place.

'You know Anne would never do that, it's not like her at all! She is probably afraid to lose you, Nick, you are the one with the history of casual loving. But none of that matters. She is with Frederick right now, most likely accepting his offer of marriage, and when they are engaged he will do everything in his power to make her happy. Which means getting you to come with us to Pemberley. Whatever it takes, Nick, Frederick will get it done. Mr Blackwood cannot stand up to him, and why should he for a month or two at most? He will let you go, Frederick will hire you, and before you know it you will be at Pemberley yourself. And you will not be bored, for I have heard rumours we will all have to learn to ride and shoot, to fit in with the gentry and to be able to defend ourselves when we go to the continent. There is a war threatening over there, you know.'

It is very easy to distract his friend from his worries over Anne and her marriage by telling him about Mr Fielding's wish to study in Vienna and Mr Manners' determination to accompany him there, posing as English gentlemen on their Grand Tour.

'Anne! I'm sorry I'm late! I hope you're not angry.'

She is not, she expected him to be late, he couldn't very well be rude to Mrs Grenfell after inviting her for an evening together. And Simon kept Anne company when the rest of the family had gone to bed. But she is glad to see Frederick and embrace him after the night she has had. He returns the embrace with pleasure, it's different from holding Nick but it is very soothing nonetheless.

'I'm not, I'm just glad you're here now. We need to talk. Frederick, I'm ready to commit myself to you and Simon, the sooner the better.'

That makes him very happy, she can see it in his face, most people consider him plain, just like they find Nick plain, but to Anne their features have come to represent safety and freedom and she loves to look at them. His voice even sounds affected, which makes her happy because he clearly wants this connection very much.

'Thank you so much, dear Anne, it makes me so incredibly glad to hear that. You will not regret it, my dear friend, I will do everything in my power to make you as happy as if we were deeply in love.'

Imagine him saying that when she has just been terribly disappointed by some of the detrimental effects love can have on a person's reason. It is not just beautiful and good, it can also be misleading and very painful.

'I trust you ever so much more than some fellow in the throes of love, dear Frederick,' she observes dryly, and he sighs, 'I'm very sorry about what happened, Anne, and I'm certain your cousin will regret it even more since he more or less set it up, but know you have been blameless in this whole mess. Somehow I cannot feel much empathy for his plight, what has gotten into him to put you in such a position?'

'I'm not going to suffer even one sleepless night over him, though I do feel sorry for him. But Mr Bennet was right, Lieutenant Talbot loves a figment of his imagination, and though I've shown him my real personality he refuses to accept it and persists in loving a woman who does not in fact exist. But enough about him, what will we do now? I've never thought past this point.'

'I have, dear Anne, and we need to decide on several issues, not tonight, though we can compare opinions on a few really important ones. Then we tell your family, which I don't mind admitting to you I greatly fear. Not your uncle or even your mother, but Darcy and Elizabeth.'

Here Anne feels a certain need to interfere.

'You need not fear talking to Elizabeth and Darcy, for I will take it upon me to do that. They are my relatives and I will announce my engagement to them in a private conversation. Tomorrow. After that, we'll write to all the others and tell the rest of the household.'

Head bowed, Frederick is still smiling fondly.

'I gladly surrender the fearsome task to you, dear Anne. I'm so afraid to lose their friendship over this, but I really think we are doing the right thing.'

'Don't worry, I can handle my cousin and Elizabeth doesn't need handling, I think she will support us. So, when will the ceremony be, and how big? Our partners both dislike the idea of a wedding without them.'

'So they do, so they do. I feel a certain need to show off, Anne, have that dream wedding the papers predicted. But I would not enjoy it and neither would you, without the people we truly love. And I so love to be unpredictable! What would you say to getting a special licence and having a little ceremony in Derbyshire, with our best friends and maybe even our loved ones present? Returning to London already married? We may even set off for the continent straight from Pemberley, who knows? Just like you, Anne, I'd like it to be soon. Do you want us to talk it over with Simon and Nick straight away?'

'Nick's here?'

'That is why I was late, I fetched him from home, I thought the two of you might want to see each other after what happened.'

Yes, Anne wants to see Nick, desperately. He looked so devastated to witness her scene with the lieutenant, only holding him close can make up for that. She is convinced he will still not like the idea of her marrying another man, but he did agree.

'You do want to see him, very much so. Come, I suppose they're in the common-room.'

First Nick takes her in his arms, clutches her, actually, as if he is afraid to lose her. She wants nothing more than to be with him but she can so understand his doubt after seeing her with an eligible gentleman who is obviously in love with her.

'You could see he means nothing to me, couldn't you?' she asks softly.

'Yes, my love, I could. And he was totally crushed when we took him back to his parents' house, he did not laugh and tell his friend about his triumph. I knew you'd rejected him. But I also realised there would be others, again and again, until you would finally meet the man you could love and marry.'

That is not at all how Anne sees things, she loves Nick, and she doesn't want any gentleman to fall in love with her, ever again. But convince a reformed philanderer of that.

'It's not going to happen, Nick. Frederick and I just got engaged.'

Will he break down hearing this? Or will he accept the news, even welcome it?

'Thank God, Anne, you'll be safe!'

What? Safe? Isn't that a bit much? Safe from what? From not having Nick? But it's impossible to resist his sincere affection, he gathers her up altogether and crushes her against him, kissing her cheeks and throat as she has always loved so much, so intense, so endearing.

'I was suddenly so afraid you'd choose propriety, Anne, a decent marriage to a deserving man. But he doesn't love you like I do, he just loves the beautiful lady while I love the entire woman. Do you think he'd change your rags for you? Nurse you through opium delusions if your medicine was too strong? How could I wish you to marry a man who would leave you to the servants when you needed him most, my love? I know Simon and Frederick will take care of you if ever I cannot. You deserve the best and I know I'm not the best. This is.'

Put like that, he is right. Anne hasn't even considered that, Nick didn't shy from her during her moon time, he helped her to stay clean instead, even improved the way her rags stayed put manifold. And whenever they make love he considers her pleasure first, he told her his ladies were always very surprised to find the act of love enjoyable for themselves. Which is why there was a never-ending supply of them, no doubt.

They snuggle a lot more and then they sit down together and talk very dryly and sensibly about practical matters. Like whether they'll let Darcy and Elizabeth know about Nick once the engagement has been made public. They'll be shocked, but maybe also relieved to know she isn't seeing several men. And how to approach Mr Blackwood to let Nick go before his daughters are married.

'If you want to, Nick, for if you want to complete your assignment until the Misses Blackwood are both married I can have you fetched.'

'Thank you, Frederick, but I think it's inescapable for new jobs to not always start at the exact termination date of the old. I suppose Mr Blackwood will understand, though I suspect he still hopes I'll join his business. But can you bring another servant along to someone else's estate just like that?'

Frederick is pleased to hear Nick using his first name, that much is clear. And whatever Nick thinks about men loving each other he is not making an issue of it, which is a great relief to Anne, she would think less of him if he did.

'I don't suppose the Blackwood family even goes to the country? Not to stay with family either?'

At Nick's shake of his head, Frederick explains.

'It's perfectly normal to bring personal staff along, to rely on your host's staff for specific care would be a burden and an insult. Since my valet has found a new employer right here in town I would need to hire another one if it wasn't Darcy whom we are visiting. Officially, Simon is still in his employ. Do you mind, Simon?'

'Not here, since I kind of rule the roost and see eye to eye with Mrs Annesley, but I would not like to be placed under Mrs Reynolds again. So I suppose I'll talk to Mr Darcy as well, tomorrow, and ask him to let me go. Do you want to make up a formal contract of employment with me, Frederick?'

There seems to be a certain challenge in his voice.

'Of course not, my love, I have a totally different document ready and waiting for you to read well and sign for me, in the presence of my lawyer and a witness. I assure you it's nothing that will put you out. So you will stop being part of Darcy's staff as soon as we leave this house?'

And Simon's expression relaxes as he replies, 'Preferably, yes. Mrs Annesley will find a successor for me, unless she wants to work the extra hours herself, with the family away and the staff reduced there will be little to do except be present and keep an eye on the deliveries, the building and the door. Cook takes care of his own staff and he will make sure the stable boy does his work well, so she can work on her art most of the day and be paid just to be here. She'd be a fool to refuse and she knows it.'

Frederick nods and addresses Nick, 'I suppose you'd prefer to have a contract with me and a set wage? I'd hire you as my wife's guard. You have quite the reputation, so of course you'd make a good wage.'

'Yes, sir, I would like that at first,' Nick replies formally, he does have some trouble yet to address Frederick by his first name. 'I wouldn't like the feeling of living off your charity, I like to have some money of my own to spend on things I value. Presents for my beloved, for instance.'

Of course Nick has been seeing married women all his life, he sure doesn't seem bothered by the idea of Anne being married to Frederick anymore. All this talk of money makes Anne think of her own situation, will she have her own money? Once she marries Frederick her fortune will be his, she knew that when she accepted him and she is not afraid he will abuse his lawful right. But they will negotiate their nuptials before getting married, and Anne is certain uncle Spencer will involve himself in that process and take care she will always have some money of her own to spend. Or maybe she'll ask Georgiana to do that, she has turned out to have quite a talent for financial issues. But whoever does the honours, Frederick doesn't need Anne's fortune so her settlement will undoubtedly be larger than it would be if she'd marry anyone else.

They decide on a lot of practical things and also chat about the concert that evening, Mr Bennet's surprising behaviour, Mrs Grenfell's lady-like appearance, uncle Spencer's friends, and of course Georgiana's wedding come Wednesday. Then Frederick promises to take Nick back to the Blackwoods' the next morning and use the occasion to talk to Mr Blackwood about hiring Nick and taking him away to Pemberley the coming Monday.

Half an hour is how long Anne and Nick manage to stay awake for the inevitable loving, they are both very tired after an enervating day. And tomorrow, Anne will face Darcy and tell him she is engaged to Frederick Manners, and that they hope to get married by special licence in the little church belonging to Pemberley. But not without Elizabeth's presence, Anne knows Darcy will object and blame Frederick for meddling, but Anne knows she is using Frederick as much as he is using her.


	113. Chapter 113

Chapter 123

On the last day of their engagement, Eric will have to do without his beloved for two hours because Georgiana is attending Fanny and Bob's wedding ceremony. They have decided together he will not join his beloved and her brother and Elizabeth since he has very little to do with either Fanny or Bob, and he is a bit tired of being polite to total strangers. But just before she leaves, Georgiana hands him the book Elizabeth and Darcy gave her for her birthday.

'I don't think we should read this together before we are married, my love, I couldn't put it away at all, it was so interesting but at the same time so exciting! But I do think you should read at least part of it, it is very enlightening. Keep the piano handy, though, to settle afterwards.'

And indeed she has not said too much, Pierre's exploits are incredibly tantalizing and shamefully explicit, but they do need to know these things. Elizabeth's timing has been perfect, Eric can't wait to try some of this himself, and tomorrow evening he will be allowed to. Practise can wait this once, he wants to read more and more, and before he knows it two hours have flown by and the carriage can be heard outside. This will not do, he cannot face Georgiana like this, if she kisses him a shade too intimately or touches him in the wrong place, his control may snap and he has already planned out what he wants to do first, it is not suitable at all for even an engaged couple. Better put away the book until tonight and play a few scales. His practice piece would be better but that'll take too long, since he will be expected downstairs.

They meet in the drawing-room in front of everyone, including Mr Bennet, Frederick and Anne, which is for the best. Georgiana never does anything more tantalizing than kiss him when they are not all by themselves, and she will be eager to tell him about the wedding. Or to get her hands on a piano. Either will please Eric.

After the expected embrace and kiss, Eric can sit back with his beloved on his lap and listen to a complete report on the church, Fanny's dress, Bob's happy face but most importantly, Mrs Baker, Fanny's adored mother.

'She was exactly as I expected her,' Elizabeth observes, 'still beautiful, prim, and happy to see her eldest marry a kind man who'll provide well.'

'You thought her prim?' Darcy wonders. 'I had expected her to be much more severe looking. She was smiling all the time and her dress was almost gay.'

'I suppose that is because you compare her to our aunt as your measure of prudishness, Fitzwilliam,' Georgiana offers, 'her dress had plenty of colour but the cut was stiff and a bit old-fashioned. But I suppose a widow with so many children cannot afford to buy herself a new dress just to wear to a wedding. I'm glad you decided to gift them a feast afterwards or I'm afraid they couldn't have had one. Not if it would cost them a month's food for Mrs Baker's brood.'

Dear Georgiana, she has turned out to have such an insight in these practical issues, how much a maid makes and what it costs to throw a party. Their finances will always be in the best of hands with her. Maybe he shouldn't be surprised since her brother also has a head for figures, but he was raised to run an estate, Georgiana's talent has surfaced these last few months.

'Talking of food always makes me hungry,' Darcy remarks happily, 'let's have lunch and talk while we eat.'

'You're always hungry, my love,' Elizabeth observes, laughing, 'and yet you never seem to grow fat.'

'It's running after Georgie and Eric that keeps me slim. When they are married I'll stay at home and grow as tubby as Will, or Mr Hurst. Just you wait.'

Their bantering continues all through lunch, and when Georgiana and Eric retreat to his room for some serious practice, Anne seems almost glad to take a very well-humoured Darcy and Elizabeth to the little pink sitting-room. Is this the next wedding in their family being announced? Georgiana predicted it yesterday, after Anne's shocking experience at the concert.

'She is going to do it, my love, mark my words. Love has never had a magical sound to my cousin anyway, but this madness will be a turning point. I guess she will be wed to Frederick before the start of next season, their engagement announced... I suppose tomorrow, on our wedding. Mr Goodfellow will be there anyway.'

Incredible, how she can predict these things.

Anne is not nervous as she asks Darcy and Elizabeth for half an hour of their time in the pink sitting-room. After waking up with Nick almost deliriously happy she has no doubt that she is doing the right thing. And Nick seems to take the marriage almost in stride. When she commented on it he admitted, 'Strangely enough it was Mr Manners, I mean Frederick, telling me about him and Simon that did it. Can you imagine that sharing a hardship with someone makes it easier to bear? I will not be left by myself when you and Frederick go out together, Simon will be there in exactly the same predicament. And both of you will share the need to sneak around all the time. I have more or less accepted both, Simon and him, and not marrying you.'

Once in the little confidence room they all sit down and Anne does not elaborate but merely states, 'Darcy, Elizabeth, on the very day that you left for Newcastle, Frederick proposed a marriage of convenience to me. Yesterday evening I have told him I accept his proposal. We're not planning a huge wedding, for obvious reasons.'

She is not even afraid to let a silence descend on the three of them, and both her companions notice.

'Congratulations, Anne,' says Elizabeth with feeling. 'I think I understand why you would wish to marry Frederick. He respects you like he seems to respect no-one else.'

That is of course not true, Frederick respects Elizabeth more than anyone else, but it's nice of her to say it, and she probably even believes it.

Darcy is obviously torn.

'I understand why you are doing this, Anne, and I so wish you to finally be free and happy, but at the same time I fear for you. Simon and Frederick have made me realise it is possible to find true love outside the holy bond of matrimony. But will it make you happy, Anne? You will never be able to acknowledge the man you fall in love with, even if he accepts being yours only in secret. What if you fall in love with an eligible gentleman, dear cousin, and find yourself already bound to a man who can never love you?'

Anne is touched, who wouldn't have been? She expected Darcy to work on her sense of propriety, to try to shame her into a regular marriage. And here he is, genuinely concerned for her, and her future.

'Thank you so much for your concern, dear cousin! There is but one kind of love Frederick and Simon cannot give me, Darcy, and yet there are so many others that they can. And receiving that kind of love every day of my life is something I have never known, I have no siblings, have had no truly loving parent since papa passed away. To always be certain of two loving friends by my side is worth a lot to me, and to have my freedom and security against boredom. I'm not worried about romantic love, my mother certainly didn't feel bound by her unmarried state, and neither did your father by being married. I understand your concerns, I have taken time to carefully review all my options, and I have made my decision.'

'And I don't think you will regret it, Anne,' Elizabeth states warmly.

'Thank you, Elizabeth, I'm glad you understand. I will send a note to my uncle and Fitzwilliam, and if Georgiana and Eric agree I would like us to tell Mr Goodfellow tomorrow towards the end of the festivities. Unless you think it would take the attention away from the happy couple.'

Now Darcy surprises Anne immensely by observing, 'Why don't you visit uncle Spencer together, Anne, and tell him in person? I think he will be delighted. And I'm certain that seeing you so happy with your decision will make him feel very good about the match you're making, though he knows you're not head over heels in love and he used to love aunt Alice so much.'

Astounded, Anne blurts out, 'You're not going to make things hard on Frederick and me?'

That makes him laugh but he is a little hurt at the same time, and Anne reaches for his hand to make up for her impertinence. Of course he lets her take it and then they do have to embrace.

'I'm not who I used to be, Anne, my life no longer revolves around what others think of me and mine. I still feel so guilty about letting you down for years, I just want you to be happy. And I can see you are, the bond between you and Frederick and Simon is so much closer than that between a lot of married couples I know. Who am I to try to stop you? Who can guarantee you would be happier with a doting husband? Mrs Grenfell seems happy enough, Charlotte apparently has found a way to live with Mr Collins, but I'm sure I prefer Manners to either of them and a lot of the others. And Anne, I want him to be happy, too, and I do think this is a scheme gone right. Just be as discreet as they are and all will be well. If you find someone, do we get to meet him?'

And here Anne proves she still has a lot to learn before she joins Frederick in the society game for Elizabeth exclaims, 'You already have!' And then, 'I'm sorry, Anne, no matter how hard I try, sometimes I'm still the impetuous girl I used to be before Fitzwilliam tamed me.'

The way Darcy looks at her is enough to give any woman a tiny thrill, Anne is so much in love herself, to see her handsome cousin practically melting at his beloved's words is irresistible, even when what she says isn't true at all, she has tamed him, and if she has been tamed herself in any measure it has been London society that did it.

'I so love it when you profess opinions which aren't in fact your own, Mrs Darcy.'

'I know, Mr Darcy, it's why I still do it. You've never even tried to tame me, you don't want me tamed. And now I hope Miss de Bourgh will accept my heartfelt apologies for sticking my nose in her business.'

But Anne doesn't want to keep secrets from Elizabeth, she wants to be her friend.

'You already know him, it's Nick Fowler. He has lived a far from unblemished life so far, I could never marry him.'

She can see their minds at work, Darcy undoubtedly on his way to indignation, and yes, Elizabeth as well, most likely. She has a thing for Eric, but he is a gentleman in all but descent, educated, handsome and genteel. Nick may be smart and kind, he is decidedly rough at the edges and his speech and manners leave no doubt that he is a lowborn Londoner.

Before long the silence is getting painful and Anne is starting to regret telling them, though she really does not want to keep secrets from the relatives she likes a lot. She knows Darcy cannot stop her from marrying Frederick, but she wants him to approve.

'After ten years of living death, Anne, I can understand the attraction of a man like Fowler. Just imagine how safe you'll be with one man guarding you physically, one guiding you through society, and one making sure you'll always be ahead of everyone else in fashion and deportment. You're beautiful and kind and everyone will love you. I suppose no-one will find out you're committing sins in the privacy of your own home. I do feel bad about that, but not nearly as much as I should. Mostly, I'm relieved no-one will ever be able to take advantage of you.'

But now it's Elizabeth's turn to be hesitant.

'I have always had a thing for Nick Fowler, Anne, especially his dedication to improving himself by observing Simon in his work, though I realise now that was a ploy to have him near you when you were ill and needed him. Because we have known for some time that Simon will accompany all of us to Pemberley and after that leave us to live with Frederick, I thought it wouldn't hurt to put in a little effort to find a successor for him, and since Nick had shown an interest in keeping house and Simon was prepared to teach him I thought he might do well. So I admit I adapted some of Frederick's tactics and entreated Fanny to ask around, to find out more about him, whether he is good with people, and trustworthy. She told me nothing but good, I suppose he has gotten over the most trying age, except that he has quite the reputation of being a ladies' man. 'Worse than Simon,' she said, 'for Fowler apparently targets ladies instead of maids, and he..' at this point she blushed, '..he goes further, ma'am. All the way, if you catch my drift.'

Ladies, Anne, not just one. According to gossip he has had dozens, some even at the same time.'

Anne feels herself nodding calmly, she needs to address this or Darcy will revise his surprisingly mild opinion.

'I know, Elizabeth, he told me himself before we even kissed. In fact he warned me he couldn't be claimed. Which is why I moved back here when I fell for him after he got hurt, I meant to forget him.'

Better not tell them Frederick practically threw them at each other after that, they don't like his meddling, and meddle he did. Though always openly, at least to Anne, and Nick.

'But I couldn't, so I started to avoid him. And when Fitzwilliam asked to see Miss Blackwood again, she confided in me and told me Nick was pining away, had not seen any ladies anymore. He had fallen as hard as I had, Elizabeth, but he also understands I cannot marry him because of his past. I would consider living outside society because I choose to marry below me. But I cannot imagine placing my fortune and my life in the hands of a man who used to please married ladies at the rate of three or four each week.'

'But, wasn't he afraid to get them, well, you know, with child?'

Elizabeth is truly astute, Anne knew it. Although apparently she hadn't found out about Anne and Nick, yet, she certainly had noticed him all right.

'There are ways of preventing that, Elizabeth, and they work rather well.'

Is Anne mistaken or do Elizabeth and Darcy show a definite reaction to that statement? They didn't know, that is clear, but it seems they want to learn as much as Eric did. But they don't elaborate, and Anne continues what she was telling them.

'Nick once told me he didn't want a wife and children, he was afraid they'd be stuck at home while he'd be stuck at his job, both his parents were away a lot. He prefers to live among the rich and noble, he likes society as much as I do, he likes Simon, he is a bit in awe of Frederick, yet, though.'

'He knows? About them?'

'Each told him about himself, a day apart. They say he mostly felt stupid not having noticed before.'

'That is exactly what I felt when Fitzwilliam told me about Simon. Stupid and countrified. It must have stung Nick even more, since he is obviously a man of the city.'

Now Anne swallows some anxiety and begs her relatives, especially Darcy, 'Will you be kind to him? Please don't take any annoyance you feel about this situation out on him. He is deadly afraid of you, Darcy, looks up to you as a figure of absolute authority, and not a kind one I'm afraid. If you want to complain to someone, complain to me. I used Nick to prove to myself and Frederick I could marry Frederick without falling in love with him. To prove to us both I could find love outside wedlock. Love followed, and as unwillingly on my side as on Nick's. He will suffer enough, seeing Frederick and myself in public and having to stay behind the scenes. Simon and Frederick have no choice, whereas I could marry Nick but choose not to.'

Darcy, whom this concerns most, concedes, though not altogether pleased.

'I'll be nice to him. If you insist. Do you want me to write to your mother? About your engagement?'

'She can read it in the papers. You should have seen the fellow she sent after me, he was gross! I'm sure he would have tried to assault me on our way to Kent had Nick not interfered. I do feel very safe with Nick, though he is still too much in awe of powerful men. But that'll fade when Frederick hires him and he feels supported. If you'll excuse me I'll go tell Frederick about your suggestion to visit uncle Spencer and inform him of our engagement in person. I think it is a magnificent idea.'

And Anne flees, hoping that Darcy will not make trouble for them after all.

'You know your aunt will blame you for this, Fitzwilliam, since you started this whole chain of downward marriages.'

'You cannot in any way compare yourself to Nick Fowler, Elizabeth. He is a lower-class Londoner, a born servant! He looks common, he talks common, I just hope he doesn't think common. But the important thing is, my aunt will never know. She will rejoice in Anne's marriage and congratulate herself for having her daughter catch a man as rich and respectable as Mr Frederick Manners. She may even try to rub it in towards me. If she ever manages to restore contact with Anne, she'll try to get the better of her son-in-law in her drawing-room, while Simon and Fowler chat up the staff. And then they'll get together in the evenings, share what they have heard and laugh until their sides hurt.'

He doesn't seem too put out with Anne's news, of course he has had a few weeks to get used to the idea and there is nothing he can do about it anyway, he has no say over Anne and there is no way to warn their uncle. But Fitzwilliam must know Elizabeth and Georgiana will do everything in their power to stop him from even thinking of such a heinous act.

'I like Nick Fowler. He seems kind but also strong, and I suppose your cousin must have a strong will, my love. You have, and your aunt and uncle have, even Georgina has it though it seemed otherwise. Like my father told me, Anne could never be happy in an unequal marriage, let her be one of the boys again and try to outwit three smart men. And if Nick Fowler cheats on her she can just let him go and find herself a more deserving one. Suppose Charlotte had been able to do that, or my father could have chosen a different wife. I'm looking forward to getting to know both of them better, Anne and her lover.'

Since neither of them dares to ask the other's opinion on methods to prevent pregnancy, they do not yet discuss that very sensitive subject, though each definitely has his own thoughts.

And then, finally, the day of Georgiana's wedding has dawned. After dressing up they will drive to a large church in their own quarter of town, where the ceremony will be held. Georgiana does not want a large party so soon after her birthday and after having been in company daily since the start of the new year. A small gathering will suffice to greet relatives and friends, and make two important announcements to Mr Goodfellow. And after that, a lunch and some dancing in a rather small venue with just a few friends will be just the thing. Fitzwilliam offered them a night in an inn to be all by themselves, but of course an inn has strangers living in it and they prefer to be among people they know. So they have settled for spending their wedding night in total privacy in Eric's very own apartment, a large double bed they both fell in love with when browsing through the attic having been dismantled and brought down that flight of stairs to now grace their new quarters. Georgiana's nerves are finally starting to flutter and she wonders how Eric is feeling.

'There now, miss, there is nothing to fear, you know it's just the minister preaching and then you both repeat what he says and it's done.'

Fanny, who married her Bob just yesterday, is already back to work and putting on quite some married-woman's airs towards her young mistress. Most likely without even being aware of it. Georgiana doesn't mind a bit, her nerves are back to steadfastness and she is suddenly intensely curious.

'How was it, Fanny, you know, your first night together?'

As always, Fanny talks and works at the same time, there is a lot of work to be done today for Fanny is determined to get Mrs Darcy in the papers as well as the young bride. It's a kind of challenge Fitzwilliam apparently set her, Georgiana doesn't know the particulars but it also seems to include Anne, who will be one of the most beautiful bridemaids ever seen, though she is nearly ten years Georgiana's senior.

'I'm so glad to have this opportunity to be a bridesmaid once, Georgiana,' she said, 'for with your permission Frederick and I would like to announce our own engagement officially after your ceremony. We've visited uncle Spencer and he wholeheartedly approves, he will write to my mother and I've already sent a note to Fitzwilliam and Mr Blackwood. Of course Frederick has written some relatives as well, but he doesn't care if they read it in the papers first.'

Well, anything that takes the attention away from Eric and Georgiana is very welcome, so of course Anne may announce her engagement to Mr Goodfellow just before or during the reception. Right after Georgiana has revealed to him and any reporter haunting the church doors where Mrs Darcy and Miss Darcy buy their clothes. It'll be a huge joke!

Meanwhile, Fanny blushes a beautiful rosy red and says dreamingly, 'It was all we ever hoped for, miss, the master gave us Theo's former room, it's huge and he had it redecorated for us, it's so lovely. And Bob was so sweet, he told me he didn't have a clue, but my mother's friends and some of the maids had told me things and he did just fine. I feel different now, you know, grown up. And the master says we'll have a whole week to ourselves as soon as we arrive at Pemberley. A whole week with nothing to do but be together!

Now, miss, that's your dress all pinned and sewn up, is it comfortable? It kind of looks wrong, but Simon said it had to be tight, do you mind ringing for him to check out the fitting before I start on your hair? It's such an important day and everybody will be watching and I've never seen a dress like this. Simon chose it, he knows how it should be fitted.'

Of course nothing is wrong with the way the dress is arranged, but though Georgiana can tell her as much as she liked, Fanny will never believe anyone but Simon. He soon returns to his own charges, poor man, with Frederick's valet having already moved to his new home he has three gentlemen to help make ready, starting with his own master, of course. Or maybe he helped Frederick before the external staff arrived, Georgiana doesn't know. She does know that Dora will beg Fanny to check out her work, they have such a reputation, Simon and especially Fanny.

The hair is done relatively quickly, Georgiana has decided to go for a simple look to match the dress, it mostly relies on her still-perfect figure, except for some outlandish detail that even Georgiana isn't sure she wants to wear. But the decision is made, there will not be that many people anyway, and beautiful Anne will be standing next to her in a similarly daring dress, so she guesses she will be just fine. Half an hour later they move to Elizabeth's room together, where Simon has just arrived and is helping his master into a singularly attractive coat. Her brother is a stunningly handsome man, there is no other way to put it.

For the first time ever, Georgiana does not drop down on the bed but primly seats herself in a straight chair. The dress is pinned so tightly it might tear and besides, it won't do to mess up Fanny's best efforts today. It is always such a joy to watch Fanny work, and the dress Elizabeth has chosen for today certainly is worth it. She will be wearing her usual warm copper hues but today the accents are green, and her necklace is one from Newcastle, with the local glass beads resembling priceless emeralds this time. Since Georgiana and Anne are going for simple today, Elizabeth has decided to choose intricate, and her hair and hat seem to flow together in a jumble of curls, feathers and copper accents. If she doesn't make the papers today, Georgiana will eat that hat feathers and all, and it is certain not to agree with her stomach.

Elizabeth perfect, Fitzwilliam perfect and Georgiana perfect, they leave the room and instantly hear Eric playing away his nerves. While Georgiana and Elizabeth follow Fanny into Anne's room to witness the interaction between Fanny and Dora, Fitzwilliam and Simon walk on, most likely to put some heart in Eric. Anne is looking stunning, Frederick will be relieved to have his proposals finally accepted for it cannot be long now before she is discovered by the beau monde, and every bachelor in town will be as helpless at her feet as the unfortunate lieutenant was.

'Just perfect, Dora,' Fanny praises Anne's little maid. Fanny started out her career as personal maid a little more confidently than Dora, she is not that much older, but Anne's maid of course has lived at Rosings for years, she may need a little extra time to crawl out of her subservient shell. And indeed, they leave every aspect of Anne's toilette exactly as it is and move downstairs as one. In the hall, they meet the gentlemen, and each offers his own lady his arm.

Simon does not show any sign of disgruntlement at Frederick leading Anne down the stairs almost possessively, but of course they have had plenty of time together last night and in the morning. Legitimately, that last, since Simon has very obviously been busy changing Frederick's appearance ever so slightly: he is wearing a buff-coloured pair of pantaloons instead of his eternal black, with a matching buff shirt but a midnight-black cravat replacing the expected white one. Georgiana remembers they were her Christmas gift to Frederick, but apparently his own valet did not know what to do with them, this is the first time Georgiana has seen him wear one of them and it makes an incredible statement. No-one will doubt that this time he has succeeded in winning the affections of the beautiful lady he is obviously courting, even before they make the official announcement. He looks even more self-assured than usual, and Anne is obviously pleasantly surprised by Simon's efforts. She seeks him out just before he can disappear back into the house and talks to him softly, something Georgiana cannot make out in the general buzz of a large party leaving but which makes Simon smile before he retreats. And then Georgiana looks at her intended and realises this is the last time they will stand in this hall as engaged couple. When they return, they will finally be married, and with that thought her nerves make themselves felt once again.

They share Frederick's carriage with him and Anne, Fitzwilliam taking Mr Bennet in their own. All the others will come directly from their own house, the relatives and friends they will meet again at Pemberley in April: the Bingleys, the Gardiners, uncle Spencer, cousin Fitzwilliam. Cousin Spencer has returned to his father's estate, he could not stay for the wedding with his Penny due to deliver any day now. There will be several relatives from their father's side of the family, mostly elderly uncles and aunts who will hopefully only attend the ceremony. Then of course Eric will have his friends present, Mr Goodfellow and the other members of their group of music connoisseurs, Mr Clementi, and standing in as his relatives are the Zumpes, Louise probably bringing her fiancée. Georgiana hopes Kitty will be able to make it with Lascelles, they don't like to go to town and do not have their own house in London but they were planning to attend, staying with the Bingleys. Mrs Grenfell has not been invited, of course she was never Georgiana's friend but much more Fitzwilliam's.

'You don't seem nervous at all, my love. I suppose there is no reason to be, but still I am and will be until we have exchanged rings.'

'I am quite anxious, Eric, but not as much as I'd expected. And it's mostly because of the dress, it's so...different.'

That is not the word she was looking for, but it will have to do.

'Your dress is beautiful, dear Georgiana, as are you. But I do understand why it should make you nervous, we've been scrutinised for months, some people may love the attention or at least get used to it, but I never will. It will always be a burden. But after today, my love, we'll have each other, for always.'

'Your dress may be unconventional, Georgiana,' Frederick now observes, 'but it is more than stunning. People will stare at you, no doubt, but only to admire. I hope Miss Filliger is prepared for the rush on her store tomorrow for every girl in town will want one.'

'But Georgiana, you have only invited Mr Goodfellow, haven't you? He is a trained observer so he will notice something about your dress, but he won't write about it, will he? He is not an expert on fashion after all?'

Anne is right, but apparently she is not used to their life yet.

'What you say is true, Anne, but reporters generally don't wait for an invitation to show up. Be assured that three fashion specialists will have formed an opinion on your dress before you've walked from the carriage to the entrance of the church. Which is why Fanny insisted on Simon checking her work before she let us leave the house, and Dora asked Fanny to critique your toilette.'

Frederick adds, laughing, 'And besides, Mr Goodfellow will have no music to write about, what if he decides to try his hand at fashion instead?'

They all join him in his laughter, imagine the scruffy little reporter having an opinion on clothes when he always looks as if he hasn't a decent garment in his wardrobe.

'I suppose Goodfellow will only write about your revelation, that your French couture was actually from Cheapside. He will attend as my friend, not as reporter.'

Eric must be really nervous to actually respond to their bantering in a serious way. Fortunately Anne has learned a lot these last weeks and she retorts gayly, 'But what about all his readers? They will be dying to know how Mr Fielding and Miss Darcy's wedding goes about. Don't they have the right to know whether one of you stuttered speaking your vows? And how intimate your kiss was?'

'And that the bridesmaid looked supremely happy with her soon-to-be-acknowledged fiancée watching her with adulation?'

Georgiana says this as a joke but they do look happy, as if they really are in love. They're both so subtle and such good actors.

'I ám very happy, Georgiana,' Anne observes, 'and I won't mind a bit if Mr Goodfellow wants to write about it in the papers.'

'Nor I,' Frederick observes. 'And if I do watch with adulation, Anne, I dare assure you it will be real, for I indeed admire you more than a little and I'm very proud to be allowed to walk next to you.'

'Thank you, all of you,' Eric smiles, 'my nerves are settling down more than a little, keeping busy must be the trick.'

'I suppose you can ask to use the organ, Eric, to play some scales to calm down,' Georgiana offers. 'Can you play an organ?'

'It's not easy, my love,' he replies, 'but I can play a little Bach I guess.'

And he'd do it, too.


	114. Chapter 114

Chapter 124

Before long they reach the church, an impressive gothic building with high stained-glass windows, such good fortune it is within a reasonable distance from their house. As she expected, there are quite a few curious reporters present, of several different London newspapers as far as she can tell, excellent, since they are planning to tell all of them about the French dresses from Cheapside. But besides the well-know personages they have all come to recognise as reporters there is also a crowd of less-than-elegantly-dressed spectators she did not count on showing up. Eric's fans! And there are so many of them, there must be a hundred at least, keeping a respectable distance from the cocky reporters.

'Right, Georgiana, Eric, if you'll just let me handle this, Anne and I will have the two of you inside that church in no time. I suppose Darcy and Elizabeth are already here, you won't catch Darcy using his slow team to what we already knew would turn out a public occasion.'

Well, he might have known, but Georgiana certainly didn't expect normal people to show up. Fortunately, Anne does not object at all to being used as a battering ram to get her cousin and her fiancée through the crowd, which has surged towards the road with the arrival of a new carriage. In fact, Anne seems to look forward to being in league with her own fiancée for the first time after their engagement, officially one might say.

The carriage halts and the throng of people gathers around to see who is arriving. Fitzwilliam is not in sight, he'd top this crowd by at least half a head, they must have indeed gone inside straight away.

'Are you ready for action, Anne? And you, happy couple?'

They all nod, and Manners signals his man to open the door, Georgiana almost afraid the crowd will surge into the carriage. But she has forgotten about Frederick's authority, the admiring crowd makes way for the new arrivals, or maybe they already know the bride and groom have arrived. The funny thing is, among the rather shabby admirers are also some shipshape characters, and Georgiana thinks she recognises Mme Beaution, the fashion specialist of their own paper. She must feel quite out of place, vying for a spot among commoners when she is usually almost a guest of honour, but that just cannot be helped at a private wedding.

Frederick exits the carriage and hands out Anne, then leads her past the rows of people arm in arm. He loves this parading, but to Georgiana and Eric it is more like running the gauntlet. Still, it has to be done, and Eric is the perfect gentleman and offers Georgiana his own hand. They follow Frederick on his heels, striding instead of merely walking, very much aware how their appearance is scrutinized by everyone present. For the first time ever, Georgiana longs for Pemberley, she used to find it boring but it will be such a blessing to be free of scrutiny for a few months, free to do whatever pleases them in total privacy.

'Mr Manners!'

Mme Beaution knows who handles their publicity and indeed, Frederick stops for a moment to address her. 'There will be a few moments for you to inquire after Mrs Fielding's dress, after the ceremony. Please be patient and make sure to come, I promise it will be worth the wait.'

She nods and he walks on, almost possessive towards Anne, who clearly loves the attention.

The fashionable lady has set an example, and now several people call out inquiries and best wishes, but Frederick does not stop again. Soon they reach the entrance of the church, where Hugo and Nick Fowler, of all people, are keeping watch. Georgiana is annoyed she didn't think of hiring a couple of guards herself, and hopes Hugo didn't have to leave the horses where they may come to harm. She expected a few reporters but not a throng of other people, how fortunate Miss Sophie never goes anywhere without her sturdy retainer. Anne greets him kindly but doesn't show any sign of attachment towards him, not even to someone looking for it. Hugo winks at Georgiana, and Frederick spends a few moments greeting the two men, exchanging a few words with Fowler. Georgiana makes sure to thank both of them, they are covering for her lack of planning after all.

'My pleasure, Miss Darcy,' Hugo offers, 'beats sitting with the horses hearing Bob bragging about his beautiful little lady. Fowler is excellent company.'

Fowler merely bows respectfully, he is such an excellent servant Georgiana can hardly imagine him daring to be with Anne, he is almost invisible and never stops watching the crowd. How can he relate to a genteel lady? Then he smiles at hearing Hugo's comment on newly-wed colleagues and Georgiana understands. This is merely his attitude when at work, it's as much a role he plays as Eric's stage persona, though she is certain he doesn't miss a thing that is happening in the crowd.

Seconds later they are inside, where Fitzwilliam is talking to a little group of elderly gentlemen and ladies Georgiana knows are her father's brothers and sisters and cousins, and even a few slightly younger ones, supposedly their children. Fortunately Fitzwilliam knows all of them by name and he manages to hide Georgiana's ignorance by introducing them to Eric first.

'Aunt Rosemary, this gentleman is Mr Eric Fielding, Fielding, please let me introduce me to my late father's eldest sister, Lady Baring. And this is her husband, Lord Baring, my Lord, Mr Fielding.'

Of course Eric is scrupulously polite and Georgiana merely follows him, she is a bit overwhelmed by the presence of so many relative strangers who have known her since she was a baby and all praise how she has grown and how beautiful she has become and what a very unique dress she is wearing. Of course they cannot possibly approve of the newfangled thing since they're all incredibly old and old-fashioned, even the younger generation who should be at most ten years Fitzwilliam's senior but certainly don't look like it.

Frederick and Anne are also a great help, these are not Anne's relatives, of course, but she already looks like Frederick's lady wife, she is so charming and open. Georgiana feels a tiny bit envious of her easy manners, until she remembers Anne's ten years of living death at Rosings and is merely glad that someone at least seems to enjoy meeting new people. The newly engaged couple greets and chats and shows interest and everyone is happy, offering Eric and Georgiana the chance to greet the other guests, Mr Goodfellow, looking splendid for once in a fashionable new coat and wearing pantaloons, Mr Bennet, cousin Fitzwilliam and his Miss Sophie and uncle Spencer.

'Thank you for lending us your retainer, Miss Sophie,' she offers her cousin's fiancée, feeling much more at ease with people she knows.

'My pleasure, Miss Darcy. Nick offered himself, you know, he always feels rather uncomfortable when the colonel is present since he can take excellent care of me, being a trained soldier. And with all your important connections he'd feel even worse. But papa insists I take Nick along, I suppose because papa thinks he may feel useless otherwise. Well, not for long, papa told us Mr Manners wants to hire Nick to guard Miss Anne from her mother. Oh, I'm sorry, I suppose that's some sort of secret. You look so beautiful, Miss Darcy, I wish papa would get our dresses from France.'

'Don't worry, Miss Sophie, you may yet marry in one of these dresses yourself. Just pay attention right after the ceremony, I'm going to show it to the reporters outside and tell them a big secret.'

Then others claim Georgiana's attention, leaving Miss Sophie very surprised.

Before everyone is seated, Fitzwilliam fetches them to prepare for the actual marriage. Since her brother will give her away, Eric has asked Frederick to be his best man, and with Anne as bridesmaid Georgiana doesn't feel as singled out as she had feared. Of course the dress is still incredibly ostentatious, and Georgiana feels she's looming over everyone, being taller than all the ladies and some of the men present, but she is the bride, she is supposed to stand out. Eric is still totally himself, which helps a lot. On the first row she can see Elizabeth, beaming with joy and pride, sitting with her father and Jane, who must be wearing one of Miss Filliger's creations as well, it's unmistakeable though in no way flashy. She is probably even more beautiful than Anne, though it is hard to choose since Anne is petite and Jane's figure resembles Georgiana's own. Kitty has also made it with her handsome husband.

Attending Eric's concerts has given Georgiana a certain habit of checking out an audience and it's hard to break. Mr Clementi is sitting with Mr Goodfellow and his friends, and uncle Spencer, surprisingly. Looking for the Zumpes she spies them at the very back, they do not feel comfortable amidst all these grand people, though they look perfectly groomed. Better remember to talk to them a little after the ceremony.

Then it's time and Fitzwilliam leads her to the altar, tall, handsomer than ever and very proud of his little sister. He should wear those black cravats as well, they'd look ravishing on him. Anne is enjoying herself hugely, incredible how she changed in those few months. And there, as splendid as ever in a black coat, though with long sleeves this time, is the love of her life, the calm, kind and incredibly gorgeous pianist, his nerves settled as always once he's on stage, his dark eyes gazing at her with intense love.

The minister starts to speak but Georgiana does not look up at him, she only has eyes for her beloved, and he has forgotten the rest of the world as well. Until he speaks his vow calmly and beautifully articulated, and Georgiana needs to pay attention again to not miss her cue to speak her own. She is not afraid to make a mistake, she has done much more difficult things these last weeks and will do something a lot more difficult in half an hour, but she will do it with confidence.

They exchange rings and then they kiss, oh how they kiss. It will have to last them a few hours, and then they'll be all by themselves. Slowly she starts to realise it is finally done, they are married, no-one can separate them from this moment on. Fitzwilliam embraces her with feeling and kisses her soundly, and Frederick does much the same. Elizabeth follows, and Anne, and then all her other relatives give them their congratulations and lots of presents. There aren't that many people attending and they can take their time talking, but Georgiana is worried, the Zumpes may feel out of place and just leave. As soon as she finds a moment she looks for Frederick and asks, 'Will you make sure the Zumpes don't leave in secret? They seemed to feel a little out of sorts.'

Frederick points to the right, where the elderly couple is talking enthusiastically with Mr Clementi and Mr Goodfellow, the young people standing by listening in.

'You've kept an eye on them!' she observes, and Frederick replies, 'Of course, my dear, I'm the best man, it's my duty to make sure all the guests are entertained. And anyway, I think Mr Zumpe has brought a little gift, he won't leave before he's enjoyed giving it to the two of you.'

As far as Georgiana knows, Frederick has not left their side, how can he know what Mr Zumpe has brought with him? But she has no time to ponder, Eric takes her hand and whispers in hear ear, 'Not long now, my love, and then you may excite me as much as you like.'

Did he really say that? Eric? He smiles at her but there is a fire in his kind eyes. She cannot help herself, she must kiss him and she does until, from the corner of her eye, she can see Mr Zumpe approaching.

'My heartfelt congratulations to the both of you, Mr and Mrs Fielding!'

Hearing herself addressed by Eric's name gives Georgiana a little thrill each time.

Mr Zumpes shakes hands with Eric heartily, then dares to kiss Georgiana. His wife and daughter are waiting at a little distance for their own turn to congratulate the happy couple.

'I have a little present for you, Mrs Zumpe and Miss Zumpe thought it was ridiculous to bring it with me but I insisted, even if it was rather unpractical. I hope you'll like it and make a lot of use of it, but somehow I don't doubt that.'

And he makes a grand gesture towards one of the large pillars of the church building, where a familiar dark shape has been pushed from behind the massive stone column. Georgiana would recognise it in the dark and she feels tears threatening, such an incredible gift!

Eric is speechless, he has recognised it as well, and it falls to Georgiana to swallow hugely and say, 'Mr Zumpe, the little black piano! You didn't sell it?'

He is very happy, his surprise is a stunning success!

'I never said I sold it, I said it wasn't for sale anymore because someone fell in love with it. Imagine the two of you taking it wherever you go, spreading romantic music on my handiwork! I'll double my sales, triple them even!'

Mr Zumpe's pretence of his priceless gift being a kind of smart business trick does not fool Eric at all, but it does help him conquer his stunned silence and say softly, 'Thank you very much, Mr Zumpe. It's really too much for a mere wedding gift, that piano is worth a small fortune.'

Now Georgiana can see Mr Zumpe is truly affected.

'You were like a son to me, Eric, loving and respectful, but though I have always loved you, I did not respect you as you deserved. Will you accept this gift from me in the hopes that it will help you achieve what I tried to take from you? The perfection of your talent, the fulfillment of your dreams? To love one's children is to set them free. You are truly grown up now, my son, and ready to spread your wings.'

Well, he did raise Eric from a boy, and Eric at least regards Mrs Zumpe as a kind of mother and Louise as his sister. And the piano will help, Georgiana is certain of it, if it travels as well as they hope. Eric embraces his former patron to thank him for his magnificent gift, but also for his profound insight. Mr Zumpe seems to finally understand what went wrong between the two of them, and whatever will happen next in Eric's and her life, Georgiana is certain it will be a relief to Eric to know that Mr Zumpe and his family think of him as one of their own, not some kind of indentured slave who got away. Now they'll only have to bring the lovely little piano back with them, it will be a good test to see whether it can handle repeated moves.

Of course she gives Mr Zumpe and his family her own heartfelt thanks, it would not be respectful to try it in a church but she is aching to. Their love for the piano brought Eric and herself together and she hasn't played a single note all day. As most guests have left the church to move to the next location, where they will have a nice lunch together and maybe dance a bit, things quiet down a lot, and now reality is starting to sink in a little: she is married to Eric, she is Mrs Fielding now, they are one forever, and no-one will ever be able to come between them! It's as if Eric has the exact same thought, for he takes her in his arms and kisses her once again, with passion. Mr Zumpe has left, with his family, they will probably meet again at the other venue.

'Now, my love,' Eric says, 'are you ready to face the crowd and show them your magnificent dress and tell them where you bought it? Elizabeth and Anne are still here to support you, Frederick is dying to tell them about his engagement, of course, and, that looks like Wilbur, trying to be inconspicuous. 'Wilbur, my man, I didn't see you before now!'

Mr Zumpe's main salesman comes into view altogether now and congratulates the happy couple, then says, 'Mr Zumpe wants me to take the piano to Mr Darcy's house for you. It doesn't look like much but it's pretty heavy for its size.'

'So good of him to think of that, I must admit I was wondering how to get it out of this church. But you can't lift it all by yourself, can you?'

'I cannot, but I've someone outside with a cart, he'll help me carry. I'll be on my way, then, I suppose the staff will let me in?'

'Certainly, and if the butler makes a fuss, ask for Simon or Mrs Annesley. Thank you, Wilbur.'

'I'm glad Mr Zumpe made up with you, Fielding, he has been back to his usual good humour since you visited with Mr Clementi, and not because the latter spent a small fortune on his top model. Good bye now, I'll leave you to celebrate your union with your perfect lady. You do both realise there is a real crowd outside, don't you? There is a back entrance you could take.'

'Thank you, Wilbur, but I'm afraid it's part of the job to face the crowd.'

Then to Georgiana, 'Are you ready, my love?'

And she is, looking forward to seeing their faces when she reveals where their fashion comes from. And looking forward to hearing Frederick announce his engagement with Anne.

When Nick sees the new Mrs Fielding approaching in her truly stunning sky-blue silk dress, in the company of Mr and Mrs Darcy and Anne and Mr Manners, he suddenly realises he is in the wrong place at the wrong time. For what else can they be going outside for in all their splendour, without coats, but to announce Anne's engagement?

As happy as he is to have a new job that will bring him close to Anne, and very well-paid he may add, he cannot really believe a man like Mr Manners will accept a lowborn servant to associate with his wife once the marriage is official. Though he cannot imagine Mr Manners going back on a promise either, or Anne accepting a life without physical loving. And his new master is associating with a lowborn servant himself, a man at that. Which makes him very susceptible to exposure and more likely to have spoken the entire truth.

A hand on his shoulder and a low voice pull him out of his rather unpleasant contemplations.

'Thank you for your vigilance, Fowler. I suppose there is a bit of a bad moment for you in store in half an hour, but first, prepare to enjoy a really good joke.'

It's Mr Darcy! He is a very intimidating figure to Nick, tall, powerful and incredibly well-dressed, and Nick has to force himself not to cringe under his undivided attention. And now he is smiling at Nick! He knows, and he doesn't seem angry but rather understanding.

'Since the ladies will be doing most of the talking, Fielding and I can offer you a little support.'

And indeed, Mr Fielding is standing on Nick's other side, smiling kindly. He is very happy to be married, and he also seems to know. One of the ladies, Mr Darcy's sister, the brand-new Mrs Fielding, now raises her voice to address the crowd that is gathered in front of the church, waiting expectantly. She is flanked by the other ladies and they look magnificent, even from behind. They are doing this on purpose, even Mr Manners is holding back, standing behind Anne, a bit too possessively to Nick's taste but what can he do? Is that why he is flanked by two gentlemen, to keep him from making a spectacle? Is he under guard? Looking up at the fearsome Mr Darcy there is no sign of tension in him, on the contrary, he is looking forward to what his sister is going to say as if it is going to be a huge joke, and when he discerns Nick looking at him he says soothingly, 'This is my Elizabeth's payback to the beau monde for forcing her to act the icon of fashion for months, Fowler, I'm sure you'll appreciate the irony. Better get used to the company you will be keeping the coming months at Pemberley, and mind you, they won't spare you.'

He loves it, and he wants Nick to be part of it. Mr Fielding merely watches his wife with adulation, of course she always had the reputation of being aloof to the point of arrogance and he won her heart, he may congratulate himself. Though Sophie and Angelina said Miss Darcy, now Mrs Fielding, was perfectly genteel, and she was incredibly nice to Nick that time he served the coffee.

The crowd has settled by now and is attentive. The reporters, easily recognised by a kind of superior attitude to prove they are not adulating fans, are burning with questions, that is more than evident. Nick wonders how he will get back to Sophie and the colonel, they left him here because he could not be missed, and Nick didn't object because he likes to be useful and Mr Manners is after all his new employer.

'Thank you for your interest in our wedding, and for being patient.'

Mrs Fielding doesn't sound as if she has rehearsed this, and she is a tiny bit nervous.

'My husband and I are very happy to share the best day of our lives with you. But that is not the main reason why we are standing here in the cold without coats, of course. We know you have been wondering what my wedding dress would look like, and what Mrs Darcy and Miss de Bourgh would be wearing. This is your moment to look your fill and ask your questions, and we will do our best not to shiver as we answer them.'

Of course the smartly dressed lady who dared speak first when they entered the church is the first to speak up now.

'Mrs Fielding, I am Mme Beaution, fashion reporter for the London Times. Please may I first compliment you on your choice of dress? It is magnificent, the colour, the fabric, the daring! And then, may I ask how you manage to get your dresses so incredibly well-fitted when you have them made in France? My dressmaker always has to adapt little things, and a model like the one you and Miss de Bourgh are wearing relies on a perfect fit. Do you have it re-fitted to your figures?'

Mrs Fielding is smiling in triumph, she hoped for this question. Nick is convinced the big practical joke will now be played, just look at Mr Darcy, he looks like a boy who has put a toad in his tutor's bed.

'Thank you, Mme Beaution, for your kind compliments. I was nervous wearing a dress like this when I knew the people expected me to wear the usual affair, covered in the family diamonds. Now to your question: we indeed have our dresses fitted in London. Remember, neither Mrs Darcy, Miss de Bourgh nor I have ever confirmed that our dresses came from France, and they don't. People call my husband a genius because he makes unique compositions in a music style that is totally new, out here, but also on the continent. The same goes for our style of dress, it is unique and was created right here in London, in the brilliant mind of Miss Filliger, who has a boutique in the large shopping area in Cheapside. We bought the dresses we wore to the New Year's Eve Ball ready-made.'

Seeing the reporter's expression Nick can appreciate the joke, and to stand between Mr Darcy and the acclaimed Mr Fielding is very pleasant when they are almost suffocating trying to check their laughs. Imagine those French dresses coming from Cheapside! Nick has heard Sophie and Angelina, and Felicity and the other girls' maids, speculating what it must cost to wear dresses and accessories imported from France. In green-eyed jealousy of course, for neither of their fathers could afford it. Poor Miss Filliger will be overrun tomorrow, which is of course exactly what these ladies intended by keeping this a secret for months. Since she apparently deals in ready-mades, she must have taken the time to build up stock to sell to the adoring masses, maybe even hire extra staff to adapt the fitting on the spot. Chaperoning genteel girls is not something a fellow does without picking up some knowledge of clothes and dressing, Nick decides he may do his girls a last favour by beating the crowd with Angelina and Sophie. If they stand on Miss Filligers doorstep before the papers are distributed tomorrow, they will have first choice of the stock.

While other reporters and some fans ask questions on hats, tucks and sashes, which the ladies answer in turn, Darcy quietly asks, 'Wasn't that fun? Tomorrow we'll see in the paper whether the good lady reporter has a sense of humour. Now I don't need to warn you that someone will soon get the luminous idea to ask the other burning question. Can you handle a bit of acting, or would you prefer to be out of sight and hearing while my cousin answers it? I'm sure you'll be welcome to sit with the drivers for half an hour until we leave for the other venue.'

Who would have thought Mr Darcy could be so nice? To a servant he knows to be involved with his cousin? But Nick will have to get used to this or let go of Anne, there never was any chance of having her to himself.

'Thank you, sir, but I'm afraid I'll have to see it through. Did they really buy those dresses in Cheapside? My mistresses will be elated!'

Let him know Nick is a professional who can control his feelings under every circumstance.

'You know about dresses? Of course, you're their chaperone, they probably tell you all their hopes and dreams and vexations. You must be the most patient man alive. All right, we'll be right beside you.'

And sure enough, a man so carefully dressed he looks like a dandy dares to address Anne directly.

'Miss de Bourgh, a certain paper has already congratulated Mr Manners on winning your hand, can you tell us whether they had the rights of it?'

Nick has avoided looking at her until now, there is nothing to gain for him if he shows his admiration openly, on the contrary, if Mr Darcy and who knows who else have been informed. But when he hears Anne's voice he just cannot help himself, he has to look at her as she says gently, 'While whoever wrote that was wrong, since I had not yet accepted Mr Manners' proposals at that time, congratulations are in order now. But not just for him, I'm very glad to be the one to finally have caught the bachelor of bachelors.'

She looks over her shoulder at Mr Manners, and though her look shows true love, it's not the way she looks at Nick. Anne has a lot of love to give, and while the reporters will relish another match made in heaven, Nick can easily see she is saving most of it for him. They have been together last night and he knows she loves him. She warned him they would announce their engagement today, but Nick hadn't counted on being here to witness it, he expected to have to accompany Angelina, not Sophie. But when he returned from his night out with Simon Mr Blackwood said, 'Better attend the wedding with Miss Sophie, Nick, they're your new connections.' He meant well, of course he couldn't know Nick wouldn't want to watch Anne and Mr Manners announcing their engagement.

'And I'm very happy to have caught the most beautiful woman in England,' Mr Manners states in his usual calm, deep voice, after which the new couple takes each other's hand, more a sign of deep affection than burning love. Nick does not feel devastated, how could he? Mr Manners is no competition, he is doing everything in his power to enable Anne and Nick to be together.

The crowd applauds, they have what they came for and a good bit more, knowing they have been imagining things about Mrs Darcy, hopefully glad to know they can buy such dresses themselves right here in their own city.

'We hope to see all you at the concert tomorrow night, one of your last chances to hear Mr Fielding play this season. Good day!'

That is a dismissal, no-one can tell people what to do as diplomatically as Mr Manners. Most people leave, only Mme Beaution lingers, trying to approach Mrs Darcy. Nick points out the situation to her husband, who is still right beside him.

'Thank you for the warning, Fowler, one can see it's your profession. Though I suppose Elizabeth can handle a single middle-aged lady reporter, I think I'll just eavesdrop.'

And he does, as Mrs Darcy allows the French lady to approach and ask, 'But the jewellery, Mrs Darcy, those magnificent necklaces you always wear. They didn't come from Cheapside, did they?'

Poor woman, she had not seen this coming at all.

'Those emeralds you are wearing now, I have not seen their likes before and I know every jeweller in London. I love your ensemble, by the way, you're not outshining the bride and yet to me you are. I don't have the figure to wear what Mrs Fielding and Miss de Bourgh are wearing, and though you have, I think your style is suitable for many different figures. And the bright accents, I have such difficulty to believe some backstreet seamstress has thought of that.'

Mrs Darcy is really very young, and indeed has as perfect a figure as Anne or Mrs Fielding, though the latter is a lot taller, and she seems inclined to take the lady reporter very seriously.

'This necklace was indeed not made in London, Mme Beaution, my maid discovered it in Newcastle a few weeks ago. Though I hardly dare disappoint you again I will tell you the truth anyway: the emeralds are not real stones, they're glass beads, Newcastle is known for its exquisite glassworks. I think they deserve to become better known, anyone can look beautiful with these.

Most of my other pieces of jewellery are antiques, they may of course have been originally made in France, I wouldn't know. My staff found them on a treasure hunt in Mr Darcy's town house. It seems most respectable old English families have rooms filled with clutter from their sea-faring ancestors, madame, sometimes it pays off to search them. It's great fun anyway. And thank you so much for your compliments on my style, I do try to dress to look like a sensible adult. Why don't you visit Miss Filliger and get to know her, she is indeed a genius who can dress any shape or figure to its advantage, and she deserves to be much better known than she is now. I suppose being mentioned by most of the reporters who were here just now will get her plenty of attention, but wouldn't it be a great idea for you to go and talk to her, then have a unique story just for your own readers?'

Mr Darcy obviously adores his wife, he watches her almost with adulation, and the self-important reporter is falling under her spell rapidly. She does not show anger or disappointment as Mrs Darcy tells her how nothing she wears has come from the traditional sources of fashion that the madame knows perfectly. Instead, Mme Beaution will have to explore new territory, one that is frighteningly affordable even for the less fortunate. Mr Darcy was right, though most of this meeting involved fashion, something most people are inclined to consider rather unimportant, it will nonetheless cause quite an upheaval among girls like Miss Sophie and Miss Angelina and her friends, as well as the real upper class.

But that won't help Nick find his way back to Sophie and the colonel, does he dare beg a ride from Mr Manners?

'Fowler!'

It's Mr Manners himself, without Anne, Nick cannot find her, the whole party seems to have left quickly while he was watching Mrs Darcy with the lady reporter. The burly gentleman lays a hand on Nick's shoulder familiarly, guiding him away from the entrance, what is going on? His voice is low and soothing as he observes, 'I'm sorry you had to see that, Nick, I didn't know you would be here. I hope you're not angry at me, we did have to make it seem a little real, you see. Will you ride with us? It seems Colonel Compton has already left.'

'He did tell me before he left, sir. But still I wondered how I'd get back to Miss Sophie, thank you for offering me a ride. It wasn't as bad as I imagined it, and Mr Darcy was very kind. I thought he was making sure I wouldn't cause a scene, but I suppose he was merely concerned.'

'Darcy talked to you? Do you mean to say he knows you are seeing Anne?'

'Almost certainly, sir, didn't you tell him?'

'Will you please call me Frederick or at the very least Manners, Nick? Anne considers Simon her fiancée, too, so I guess in a way you're mine. And I wouldn't have dared tell Darcy, I'm not that brave.'

'I'm sorry, it's very hard for me to be familiar. I suppose I will have to try harder.'

'You didn't have any trouble in the carriage this morning, what changed?'

'Watching Anne from a distance, being at work all day, I don't know. The colonel treats me like one of his men, he is very nice to me. Maybe it's seeing all those gentlemen in their finery, it makes me feel lacking.'

'Lacking what, Nick? Beauty? I lack beauty and yet I'm unmistakeably a gentleman. And it's not rich clothes that make a gentleman either, though it may seem that way. Maybe being a gentleman doesn't make one a better person anyway, it's you Anne loves, not me or Lieutenant Talbot.'

'And yet I can never marry her.'

'But that is not your fault, that is because she was raised to expect a life without hardship. It's not her fault either, you're from two different worlds and I don't blame her for choosing to live in the easier and more entertaining one. But don't worry, we'll help you to fit in. I wish you could see Simon in the right clothes, you'd instantly understand. Never mind, we're here, I suppose you know my carriage by now. No, you're not going to sit on the box with Bates, you're going to sit with Anne. She felt very bad for you just now. Come, I'm your new employer, I want you to get to know your new charge.'

Nick does not have the heart left to resist him, even though he dreads sitting in a carriage with the happy new couple. Does he even have the right to refuse Mr Manners' commands? This is all rather confusing.

But when they reach the carriage things don't go at all as he would have expected. Mr Manners opens the door for him and lets him go first, and as soon as Nick is inside he is pulled in by Anne to sit next to him. She kisses him with passion, then exclaims, 'I'm so sorry, Nick! I never wanted you to have to witness that, but I really didn't expect Mr Blackwood to send you with Sophie where they would be in company all the time!'

Even more confused, Nick looks around the carriage, Mr and Mrs Fielding are sitting opposite him, mostly very busy gazing into each others eyes with infatuation but in no way scandalised or insulted, and Mr Manners has dropped down on the seat right beside Nick.

'Oh, you're all upset, my love, we'll find a way to make it work, I'm sure of it.'

It's like Mr Blackwood suggesting Nick had been damaged by the blows to his head, this is too much, he is not a weakling, he can handle a little adversity! He's just confused by this constantly fluctuating line between formality and familiarity. Despite his slight irritation, he makes sure to sound calm and kind, Anne means well, she loves him, worries over him.

'I'm not upset, Miss de Bourgh, just confused. I thought we had agreed to keep certain things a secret and yet I have been addressed by Mr Darcy himself in a rather familiar way not half an hour ago. And Mr Manners keeps pushing me to be familiar when we have signed a contract for my employ only yesterday. I can't address my employer by his first name, or ignore his commands. I've been a servant all my adult life, I cannot adapt that quickly, changing from respect to familiarity in an instant. When I see a fitted coat I show respect, it's what I was taught to do.'

He is upset, he realises it now, just not over what they think he should be upset over. Anne still holds him tightly.

'Never mind, Nick, we all understand. Just sit with me for a few more moments then, and Frederick will have to forgive you for showing him respect. I'm sure you've had a busy day, keeping that crowd away from the church.'

'And listening to Hugo's bragging over his conquests, no doubt. You have the reputation of being a ladies' man, Mr Fowler, he undoubtedly thought he'd met either a co-conspirator or a rival.'

Miss Darcy, no, Mrs Fielding, is totally right. The man who was posted at the entrance of the church with him, Mr Darcy's stablemaster apparently, did brag about his conquests during his stay in town. Nick cannot help smiling at her astute remark.

'I guess the former, Mrs Fielding, Simon once mentioned to me how Mr Hugo wanted to join our supposed expedition and he'd had to come up with some pretty far-fetched excuses to keep him from finding out we were not going anywhere. Fortunately Mr Hugo was more interested in talking than in listening, for had he asked where we had gone, or had wanted to know any detail of whatever excuse Simon had made up, he would have found us out instantly. Won't we get enmeshed deeper and deeper in a net of lies, Mr Manners? Is it really possible to keep secrets from one's colleagues?'

'I suppose this is the real reason you're upset, Nick, but it's not that bad. People don't know you, yet, and they are looking for the place where you fit into their lives. They will keep an eye on you and contemplate your actions until they think they have you figured out. Once they have, and for some it takes longer than for others, they'll ignore any action of yours that doesn't fit into their image of you. Until they do, you will have to be a little careful with what you say and do. I've been keeping secrets from my best friends from the moment I met them, they would not have accepted the real Frederick Manners. And when I met people who could accept me for who I was I kept secrets from them because I didn't dare trust anyone anymore. You'll learn which people are in which group, and you'll gain the confidence to trust those you can. Then the familiarity will come naturally. The contract we signed and the salary I pay you are a cover, Nick, I do not want you to obey me, not even in public. If you disagree with any of my orders just tell me, I'm sure you'll have a very good reason which I want to hear. And in matters of safety and security I will obey you, without hesitation, you are a trained observer and I am sure you see danger long before we do.'

Nick suspects that is not true, Mr Manners is very observant, but its nice of him to say so.

'And Nick, if you can train yourself to not fit people into a certain image but can manage to keep seeing their actions for what they are each and every time, you'll have earned your place in our little group, whatever your parents did for a living.'

He sort of understands that, but safety? How dangerous can playing the society game be?

By now they have arrived at the other venue, not something Nick is looking forward to at the moment, though he realises he has chosen to do this as his future job, accompany Mr Manners and Anne wherever they go, make friends behind the scene, hear things. So he sits up and straightens his livery, reluctant to leave Anne's arms but that cannot be helped. Hopefully there will not be a crowd in front of this venue, though it probably has its own security. When the carriage halts he is the first to get out, to hold the door for the bride and groom and the newly engaged couple.

Eric has followed the conversation in the carriage with more than a little disquiet. He is newly married and perfectly happy, and ready to be merry and dance with friends and relatives, but at the same time he realises how privileged his life has become. He could so easily have ended up in a similar situation as Nick Fowler, a life-long servant at the beck and call of others. Except he would not have consented to sleeping with someone else's wife, under no circumstance. But he was raised a gentleman, with a gentleman's principles, what if he hadn't been gifted with a musical talent? Though Fowler treats him with the same respect as he does the other gentlemen, Eric feels a kinship with him, as he has always done with Simon. Being privileged is not his birthright and it still feels as if he has to earn it, over and over again.

'You're not regretting getting married, are you, my love?' Georgiana asks with a sweet smile.

'I am not. I was just lost in thought, it could have been me, you know, working for a family day in, day out. I wasn't born into affluence and respectability. And I wish to be alone with you, I know these relations have a right to entertainment but I have been in company too often these last months, I want to be among ourselves, where we don't have to play a part and where the people we like can be with us instead of being banished to some other part of the house.'

'I'm afraid Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth will never allow Simon and Nick in the drawing-room, but you know we can invite them into our own apartment and to the boudoir. That reminds me, Simon used to sit with us sometimes when there was no company. Before my brother fell in love, though Elizabeth didn't banish Simon, he did that himself. But Mr Zumpe's servants didn't sit with the family, did they?'

'No, they didn't, but they had their own lives. Your servants seem to give up a life of their own to be not quite part of your families. I'd gotten used to it, but seeing Nick Fowler just now brought it all back. I suppose personal maids and housekeepers live much the same way in the rich middle-class families, I'm just a little sensitive because it could have been me.'

'Not with your talent and drive, Eric. But let's talk about this tomorrow, with Simon and Frederick, and give our friends and relatives one more hour. And then we'll retreat and do all kinds of naughty things. I can't wait to feel your bare skin again, and straddle you but without a stitch on either of us.'

That is just too much! The very thought of sitting at the piano with his beloved straddling him turns him on instantly, he can barely keep from kissing her, she is still so young, but there will be no shyness from her, tonight.

The hour turns into two but they are enjoyable hours, with a lot of great food and plenty of dancing. Of course Eric gets to lead the first dance with his beloved, a veritable orchestra playing the accompaniments. Georgiana chose it on recommendation of Mr Goodfellow, and it is indeed a fine company of musicians. Eric dances the first two with his wife, and then releases her more easily than he did at the New Years Eve Ball, to Darcy, of course, and their cousin and uncle, and Mr Bennet, and Mr Gardiner, to Bingley, Mr Zumpe, Lascelles, Mr Goodfellow of all people and Manners. And he truly enjoys dancing with Elizabeth, still very much his idol with her liveliness tempered by solid reason, the gorgeous Mrs Bingley and the just as gorgeous Anne, Louise, Kitty, Miss Sophie Blackwood, who nearly faints dancing with her former idol despite her engagement, Mrs Gardiner and Mrs Zumpe, and several relatives of Georgiana he has only been introduced to this morning. But eventually they end up together once more, just before they get to take Mrs Darcy's little carriage back home, all by themselves. Hugo, the Pemberley stablemaster, holds the door of the carriage and bows politely, not saying a thing, which is a miracle since apparently he couldn't stop talking to poor Fowler all day. In a flash they are back at the house, Johnson opening up with polite congratulations, Simon and Mrs Annesley waiting in the hall with their best wishes.

'I didn't know where you wanted your little piano so I had them put it in an empty room in the back of the house to warm up. I thought you'd want a bit of privacy first. There is a bottle of wine in your room. Good night, Mr and Mrs Fielding.'

Simon bows outrageously, and Eric feels a little thrill to hear Simon call Georgiana 'Mrs Fielding'. They are really married, and free to do whatever they like together. Though it is still very early they retreat to their own bedroom, where the fire is built up to give an almost scandalous warmth to the room. Suddenly a bit shy, they do not send their clothes flying, but merely sit on the bed together and kiss.


	115. Chapter 115

Chapter 125

Driving back in Frederick's carriage Darcy feels a little out of sorts, his baby-sister, married at seventeen. He doesn't even want to contemplate what she and Fielding are doing right now, though he did agree wholeheartedly with Elizabeth when she proposed giving them Pierre's memoires. Suddenly, a dreadful though strikes him, and before he realises they are not alone with Frederick and Anne he blurts out, 'Oh, no, Anne, I didn't want to ask for details yesterday since it's been a bit of a thing for Elizabeth, but Georgie! She should know how it works!'

Mr Bennet looks startled to see his dignified son-in-law behaving so impetuously, but Anne and Elizabeth understand instantly and Elizabeth is indeed out of sorts.

'That was so selfish of me, to think it could wait because I don't need it. Georgiana is just seventeen!'

'Don't worry, either of you, all is well! They both know, and I suppose they have taken measures. It was Eric's nightmare, and though it was incredibly embarrassing I told them even the minutest detail.'

Anne's gentle voice is like a blessing, and only now does Darcy realise Mr Bennet should not have heard this.

'I'm sorry, Mr Bennet, that was rude, excluding you. It's just that I suddenly thought of something we had forgotten to give Georgiana, some advice.'

With an inscrutable look that makes Darcy feel very naïve his father-in-law says soothingly, 'Never mind, Darcy, we all have a right to our own little secrets, you young people as well as us old folks. I'm glad you support each other in these matters, we had to find out for ourselves, you know, and it wasn't always a success.'

He is not thinking of the exact thing Darcy meant, but close enough. He probably shouldn't know the rest, though he is not exactly a stickler for the traditional values. But what does he mean by old people having secrets? Well, probably just some joke, the shrewd fellow likes having people on. And indeed Mr Bennet very smoothly brings the conversation to some other subject, by offering Anne a well-manicured hand.

'A little bird told me you have just announced your engagement to Mr Manners, Miss de Bourgh. My sincerest congratulations, I am certain you will make a perfect couple, you have so many interests in common.'

He does not mention love, it is as Elizabeth said, he knows they don't love each other but he nonetheless approves, he is not lying.

'Thank you so much, Mr Bennet, and I still meant to thank you for your kindness last Monday, it was so very tragic and I would have been so embarrassed to cry in public. You really saved me.'

'It was my pleasure, Miss de Bourgh, no man should ever put a lady in that situation.' Mr Bennet shows none of his usual reticence, he likes Anne, a lot.

'And Mr Manners, my best wishes for you, too, you've captured a veritable prize, which I know you will value at her true worth and treat with the love she deserves.'

Manners also shakes hand with the devious old man, but where most men fear Mr Bennet's sarcasm, he certainly doesn't show anything but true sympathy.

'I certainly will, Mr Bennet, I know you are very difficult to deceive and I'm sure you recognise my sincerity.'

'Oh, I know Miss de Bourgh is a very happy woman,' he replies slyly, at which Manners returns, 'I thought you might. Birds of a feather, Mr Bennet, the whole lot of us.'

Well, they've lost him now, whatever can Anne, Manners and Mr Bennet have in common? That they like to talk in riddles, no doubt.

Of course Georgiana and Fielding are nowhere in sight when they get back, and Mr Bennet disappears to the library, he was very pleased to see Mrs Annesley return to work after a few days' absence to care for her sick husband. She does not have an easy life, taking care of children and a man who has been suffering from a wasting disease for more than a decade. Though the lady herself is always positive, of course she has a steady income close to her family now, even if she is away from home regularly she can go back every night and be with her children and support her partner. But it's just impossible to imagine how it must feel to watch the person you love die by inches.

Despite Mrs Annesley's sad situation she has finished the beautiful work of art she has been making for their dining-room, it has turned out incredibly well and is occupying a prime spot where it can be admired by every visitor to the house. They will be taking her sketches back to Pemberley to choose one, then write which one so she can start working on the next. She will have plenty of time to spend on it when the family is away, and Darcy guesses the work enables her to forget her sorrows for a few hours each day.

Simon brings coffee to the drawing-room and Elizabeth invites him to join them, to tell him about the wedding and the reporters, no doubt. They cannot go on like this at Pemberley, keeping him in the back of the house when he is no longer a servant, but it's just too unconventional to give him a room in the front. People would talk, especially the servants, and that will only harm Simon in the long term. And then there will be Anne sneaking into the back of the house as well, it's just so...improper. Actually, he is thinking demeaning, humiliating even, but he knows he is the only one of that opinion. And there is not a thing he can do about it, except to bar everyone involved from his house, but that won't do either, he promised Anne a safe home and he likes all the others, even Nick Fowler. Though he is much too common for his cousin, and more than a little unrefined. Servile, too, Darcy cannot understand how such a diffident man can ever have attracted his cousin. Did she choose him to have a man she can rule?

As Anne is telling Simon how Georgiana revealed the truth about their fashionable attire to at least seven reporters waiting outside, Darcy has a revelation about how to make all this work without risking exposure, especially of Anne.

'So they were utterly surprised by her revelations? They're reporters, they should have been able to find out. Fanny told me a maid had followed her to Miss Filliger's store this one time, to try to hire her for her own mistress. That girl saw her pick up a hat for Mrs Darcy openly, we didn't actually try to hide anything, we went over to that shop regularly. I suppose the crowd wasn't surprised?'

This time, Elizabeth replies, 'Yes, they were. Not that they looked all that interested in fashion.'

But Nick Fowler's charges obviously were, and he had been surprised and pleased.

'I kept Nick Fowler company while you were talking to the reporters, ladies, and he said the Misses Blackwood would be thrilled to know they can buy those dresses themselves. Maybe he is taking them to Miss Filliger as we speak, before it's in the papers.'

The others are all stunned, it's not easy to get one over Manners, Anne and Elizabeth, he will relish this moment. Manners is the first to recover.

'He told me you'd addressed him, yes. I did wonder why, and how you knew.'

'Anne told us. I was showing an interest, since he holds my cousin's heart and will be living in my house I thought I should get to know him at least a little. And you know, he was keeping an eye on the crowd, but I thought it'd be wise to keep an eye on him when he was going to witness the two of you announcing your engagement to the press. Have you any idea how painful that must have been to him? Though he didn't show it much, he seemed to take it in stride, said he'd have to get used to it anyway.'

'He is a strong man, Mr Darcy,' Simon says respectfully, 'though it has taken him some time, I think he has accepted things as they are. As I have.'

'As we all have, Simon,' Manners says mildly. 'Please don't think we will ever take this in stride, it's as painful to us as it is to you. Which is why neither Anne nor I feel like having a magnificent wedding, though it will be expected of me.'

Well, there will never be a better time to propose his idea for their summer at Pemberley.

'Of course I cannot decide on what kind of wedding you should have, but I do have an idea to make things a little more inclusive at Pemberley this summer. Several of you will need to learn how to ride a horse and how to shoot a rifle, isn't that so?'

Manners nods, and Simon certainly seems eager.

'And you will have quite a lot of planning to do before you can go to the continent together, not just writing to connections but also poring over maps, finding lodgings where you have no connections, arranging carriages and a cart for your luggage and Fielding's instrument. And so on, and so on. And I guess you'll want to take Fowler, who will then have to learn French and maybe even German, a load of genteel manners and please get rid of that London accent for him.'

Anne looks a bit miffed until Darcy continues.

'Pemberley is huge, and the second and third floor are as good as deserted, even with as many visitor as we're planning to entertain. Why don't we declare the second floor the travellers' floor and decorate the largest room to be your own separate headquarters where you can be together to arrange everything and teach and explore books and maps to your hearts' content? All the travellers can have their chambers on the same floor, separate from the other visitors, so the two of you don't have to navigate the servants' quarters at night, and Simon and Nick won't have to bow to Mrs Reynolds by day. Giving them rooms among us would cause talk, but I think we'll get away with giving the lot of you your own floor.'

Expression no longer slightly insulted but rather relieved and thankful, Anne observes, 'It would be lovely, Darcy, thank you so much for such a kind offer. But won't you two feel left out? It'll mean leaving your visitors to entertain themselves, or doing without the lot of us pretty often.'

'It will be excellent practise, Anne. Fitzwilliam is right, with Simon no longer in our service he has no place among the servants, but having him among us will cause more talk than would be wise. And when you all leave for the continent we'll be left behind anyway, it's good to have a little time to get used to that, we'll see each other riding and fishing and rambling, and during meals and in the evenings, but we will learn to do without you as well. I think it's a great idea, my love, and an outstanding excuse to scour the attics for curiosities.'

He might have known, another expedition to look for old stuff when he has taken such care decorating the whole house. Well, except those two top floors, no-one ever comes there so why bother? And who not use antiques to furnish their rooms, if they insist? The Pemberley attics are huge, and the house has been in his family for at least a hundred and fifty years. There must be plenty of valuables stored there, even if his forefathers were not the kind to explore the world and bring back curiosities from their travels.

Simon is mighty quiet, Darcy thought he'd like to be lodged near his partner. An inquiring look is enough to make him speak his thoughts.

'It will be such a blessing not to have to sneak about, Mr Darcy, thank you very much. Do you really think there won't be much talk if Nick and I lodge in the front of the house? And I'm afraid we're overlooking something very important: we're planning to travel mostly from connection to connection, aren't we? Then we'll be expected to look our best at least twice a week, but very likely more. I can take care of Eric's looks as well as Frederick's and my own, in fact I can make every single one of us look perfectly fine, but the ladies will need an attendant as well, to make the right impression.'

'Don't worry, Simon,' Frederick says soothingly, 'I'm sure these things will all resolve themselves. Let us just enjoy being together as Darcy proposes, and see what happens next. If there is a war we'll not be able to go to the continent anyway. I can't wait to see what the papers will say tomorrow, and whether Miss Filliger will be overrun with new customers.'

Well that is certainly true. If war breaks out they cannot leave, it will be too dangerous. And then Anne surprises them by asking dryly, 'So, Elizabeth, Darcy, do you want me to tell you about not getting with child?'

She is embarrassed, but she must have seen how important it is to Elizabeth and himself. Though Elizabeth did say something unexpected, that it didn't matter anymore for them? He does not have to wait very long to have that statement explained.

'Please, Anne, I can imagine it's very embarrassing to talk about these things but we need to know. Not to use right now, for we have been married for six months and I think it's time for me to try to give Fitzwilliam an heir. But I most certainly do not want five children like my parents, or four like aunt and uncle Gardiner.'

And neither does Darcy, one or two will suffice. But while Elizabeth says she thinks it's time to have an heir, it's very obvious her heart is not in it, she doesn't really want a child, not yet. If it is possible to postpone, why not just do it? That is not something to discuss in public, though, and Anne is already preparing to discuss something rather improper, he'd better take note so he won't need to ask to explain, causing all of them but especially Anne even more embarrassment. He can convince his beloved tonight that while he would love to have children, having an heir is not that important to him.

Despite the difference in age between them, Georgiana has often thought herself and Eric almost of a similar age in certain aspects. He spent so many years in total seclusion, working on nothing but his piano-playing skills. She at least had a wordly-wise governess and Miss Bingley's and Mrs Hurst's conversation to keep her more or less connected to the world, and teach her about human nature. And now the moment has come when an adult male might overwhelm a much younger woman like herself, he resembles nothing so much as a shy boy her own age. He is so sweet and so endearing, is this the man who whispered in her ear during their wedding today, telling her he was looking forward to their intimacy?

Despite the time of the day they sit on the bed, stroking and kissing, Elizabeth and her brother disappear for an hour almost every afternoon, why should they wait until the evening to finally become as intimate as they want?

Fortunately her hair is relatively easy to free from its simple arrangement, and when the blonde wealth of it falls almost to her waist Eric sighs in worship. He has never seen it loose altogether and it is clear he wants to touch it really badly. Well, she wants to run her hands through his beautiful black locks as much, they have all the time in the world, no need to send their clothes flying straight away, better get used to the intimacy first.

She is the first to start on her partner's clothes, untying Eric's cravat and removing his coat, revealing the slim but very masculine figure beneath. She remembers holding him with nothing more than a dressing gown between them and that thought sets her off, she wants to see all of him undressed, straight away! His shirt has a dozen buttons but they are undone in moments, the top of it falling open to reveal his bare chest, still covered in short dark hairs. Ignoring a shudder from her beloved she first sticks her hand in the opening, feeling a solid shape underneath the soft hairs and light skin. Then she removes the hand and presses her face to it, it is warm and smells exciting, and the little hairs tickle her cheeks.

Eric seems a bit overcome, he usually has that when she manages to touch his bare skin, he'll get used to it. For now, it's easier to remove his shirt when he is standing still, it's not as easy as she expected since a large part of it appears to have been tucked into his pantaloons. No problem, gentle tugging frees it soon enough and now she can explore his entire chest at her leisure, he is still standing before her motionless.

'Oh, my love, that feels so good. I still remember seeing you in a dressing-gown as if it was yesterday. May I undress you, too?'

What kind of question is that? Of course he may, and quickly!

'Yes, beloved, I really want you to. I'm afraid it'll not be easy, though, Fanny pinned and sewed me into this dress, you'll have to cut the seam and be careful with the pins. Don't stick yourself and get blood all over the dress. Do you have a pair of scissors here?'

Of course he does, Eric is a sensible, practical man, and he has a lovely small pair in his leather case.

'Start at the top, my love, there are about five pins very carefully tucked in, the rest is sewn up very deviously.'

It's no problem at all, Eric's deft fingers find the pins first, then carefully cut the thread holding the back of her dress together, once, twice, and, much lower down, a third time.

'Those stitches came out pretty easily, my love, I only had to cut the thread three times, and I do think I got all the pins out.'

'Oh good, I've never had this tightly fitting a dress before, I really prefer buttons but Miss Filliger said they wouldn't do this time. I'm glad Fanny knew what to do, it felt quite disquieting to be sewn into a dress.'

After Eric has put his scissors away where they are supposed to be he can easily guide her dress over her head, leaving her standing in her chemise and petticoats while he carefully hangs out the dress to keep it from wrinkling. Then he returns and takes her in his arms, Georgiana feeling slightly foolish being only half dressed, but he isn't any more decently cladr. And it is wonderful to have him nuzzling her throat and to feel his beautiful strong hands stroking her right through the thin fabric of her underclothes, doing the same with his bare chest and clean-shaven cheeks. They kiss again, and almost simultaneously decide to relieve the other of shoes and stockings, Eric letting her go first, of course. His feet are just as one would imagine, the same basic shape as her own but larger and stronger, with a few short black hairs growing here and there. Remembering a conversation with Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth ages ago, she checks whether he is ticklish at all, and indeed he is not, he seems to relish her light touch on his bare skin.

'That feels so good, my love, your touch is like a feather blowing in the breeze. Imagine, dear Georgiana, from this day on we are allowed to touch one another wherever we want.'

And he bends over her left foot to remove her shoe, easily done since she's wearing slippers. He kisses her feet as she did his, then strokes her leg upwards, under her petticoats, which is very exciting. Again simultaneously, they decide enough is enough, and while Eric finds out that her chemise and petticoats are separate garments, Georgiana unbuttons his pantaloons and finds a curious but very comfortable-looking garment underneath it, a tiny pair of breeches made of a soft material. That must make wearing pantaloons more comfortable, the constant rubbing against his legs might otherwise become bothersome.

Reading about Pierre's exploits has prepared Georgiana pretty thoroughly for what she will find inside those cute little breeches, and soon she confirms it was entirely correct. Both totally unclothed they embrace again, the blessed feeling of skin upon skin something she just could not have imagined, it has to be felt to be believed. So warm, so intimate, her face on his chest, his warm breath in her hair, it is already everything she hoped for and they haven't really started, yet.

'Will you lie on the bed for me, my love? There is something I'd like to try before I have to apply those precautions. It's so clear now who told Anne about them, I really did wonder at the time. Now I'm kind of glad they are most likely very effective, if this man of hers was indeed a philanderer he must have tested them thoroughly. Imagine being this intimate with all kinds of strangers, I wouldn't dream of it. He didn't look like it either, had eyes only for one woman this afternoon.'

As her beloved only has eyes for her, and now he does indeed prove to her he has improved his mind as meticulously as Georgiana herself has, there is no sign of his shyness, no sign of lack of experience, he kisses and strokes and tastes her entire body, until she is panting with heat and lust, and turns the tables on him as expertly. After what seems an eternity of ecstasy he does leave her for a moment to fetch his carefully prepared precautions, and together they explore yet another side of intimacy. This doesn't last half as long, though it causes two extremely disciplined young adults to totally lose their sense of self, they become truly one, and almost feel what the other is feeling. Then they collapse, spent, after which there is still the unromantic task of cleaning up after themselves with meticulous care, to prevent accidents of a small and cute kind.

That done with their usual precision they lie back on the bed together and snuggle and kiss to their hearts' content, feeling sated and very pleased with the proceedings.

'Remind me to thank your brother and Elizabeth tomorrow, my love,' Eric observes lazily, stroking her hair and tickling the little hollow above her collarbones. He has found out quickly she is as ticklish as her brother and has learned as quickly to avoid the most sensitive places.

'That book really helped me overcome my insecurity over what was meant to happen.'

'You were just fabulous, my love, I was looking forward to it but it was even better than I imagined.'

'You were as fabulous, dear Georgiana. I can't wait to try some of those other things tomorrow.'

'Or later, it's not even dinnertime.'

'I do feel a little sleepy. Can we take a little nap? And maybe a bit of practise after that?'

She loves him so much, let him sleep, and she will hold him and watch him and try not to drown in her love for him.

Strangely enough, Anne finds herself eager to drive to Kent and visit Mrs Collins, and not just because Nick will be right there with them. She misses him, still feels a bit guilty that he inadvertently witnessed her announcing her engagement to Frederick. That certainly caused a stir, Frederick sent for every available newspaper in town this morning and there wasn't one that didn't gush over Mr Manners getting engaged to the beautiful heiress Miss de Bourgh. All the reporters relished the look of affection they'd exchanged after Miss de Bourgh had answered the question about said engagement. A woman who dared address a crowd of reporters and Mr Fielding's fans after having been secluded on her mother's estate for ten years. Forcefully, according to some of the more sensational papers. All agreed, though, that Miss de Bourgh would make such a wonderful match for the outgoing darling of the London beau monde.

And the sight of three beautiful, immaculately dressed genteel ladies showing themselves to those not invited to the wedding had made quite an impression, as well their adoring husbands and suitor standing behind them patiently, the once-so-impenetrable Mr Darcy talking freely to a common guard. Such a magnificent family for Mr Manners to become part of.

There was no lack of attention in the papers on the French fashion either, though opinions varied: one or two papers argued they had never believed that those outfits had come from France, that they had always known Mrs Darcy with her background of country nobility had scraped them up somewhere and that they were a chance hit and most likely soon forgotten. Mme Beaution however had indeed visited Miss Filliger already and reported of having seen wonders of style in her little store. Her article was exactly what Elizabeth had advised her to write, and very well-done in such a short time.

Remembering Frederick's expression as he read everything out loud, Anne still feels a smile tugging her lips, and she does wonder whether Miss Filliger's shop is overrun with new customers as a result of Mme Beaution's article, or only slightly busier than normal because of the opposite reactions of the other papers. She has her own opinion, of course, but time will tell whether her unsophisticated view is correct.

Her thoughts turn towards the rest of the morning, more like the afternoon, for that was when Georgiana and Eric finally came down to have lunch with the rest of them. They looked only slightly different than before they were married, a bit flushed and intensely happy and relaxed, and after lunch they sat down at the piano and played duets and sonatas and all kinds of beautiful music together, purely for fun. But of course everyone had heard the sounds of serious practice coming from their apartment for at least two hours that morning already and indeed on the very evening of their wedding as well.

Right now they must be testing their wedding present, the little black piano, and Anne is waiting for this day to pass by so she can go to Kent and see Mrs Collins' baby and retrieve some of her own things that she has missed, mostly keepsakes, things from the time when her father was still alive and always spoiling his little favourite. Maybe she'll get some time to spend with Nick, and maybe she will get to talk to Elizabeth, though Fanny and Dora will be with them most of the time.

'Miss de Bourgh,' Johnson announces, 'Mr Blackwood and Miss Sophie Blackwood to see you.'

Anne is surprised but by no means displeased, there are still a few hours to kill before she can dress for dinner, and Sophie will undoubtedly have something interesting to tell her about Fitzwilliam, or about Angelina, or maybe...Nick. She takes a good look at her companions to see whether they object to Anne's connections disturbing their peaceful afternoon, but Frederick looks interested, he is in business somehow with Mr Blackwood, though he hasn't told his fiancée yet what kind of business. Maybe she should ask him, but not now. Darcy looks up from his book and winks at her as if he means to say, 'Your father-in-law and sister, right, don't worry, I'll be on my best behaviour for you to make a good impression.' He is actually quite funny and endearing, Darcy, but Anne now knows he is no loss to her, contrary to what he joked yesterday when Anne told them about her engagement, Elizabeth actually tamed him, before that he wasn't entertaining at all. And he does return to his book, he is not planning to interact with her visitors.

Elizabeth seems pleased with such a visit, she has met Mr Blackwood but only for a very short, formal visit, during which she hadn't realised yet that Mr Blackwood's wife is a drunk. Anne is certain Elizabeth will take notice now, and play the hospitable lady of the house to perfection. No need to take them to the little pink room then, or the boudoir, which would be great fun if Anne was certain Darcy wouldn't object to people knowing he has such a room in his house.

Sophie is totally at ease but Mr Blackwood is obviously a bit impressed by the presence of Darcy, whose reputation of aloofness obviously still clings to him, though he really is all amiability these days, and not just at home.

'Sophie! Mr Blackwood, such a pleasant surprise!'

Anne kisses her friend and wants to shake hands heartily with Mr Blackwood, but he accepts her hand only to bow over it and kiss it with reverence.

'Miss de Bourgh, I congratulate you on your engagement, of course we all knew it was just a matter of time, but I still wanted to tell both of you how happy I am to hear you will indeed make the match everyone was waiting for. Mr Manners, my heartfelt congratulations to you, too.'

He then bows for Elizabeth, who offers him her hand in such a way that he can choose whether to shake it or kiss it. Of course Mr Blackwood does the latter, he may be plain and portly and not in the most respectable form of trade, he is a true gentleman.

'Mr Blackwood, so good to see you!' Elizabeth offers, she has gotten used to her husband's rank pretty quickly and knows she has to speak first, however strange it may seem to her.

'Mrs Darcy, my Sophie has told me everything about your dear sister's wedding, I am certain they will both be very happy, I congratulate you and your husband on making such a fortunate choice.'

'Thank you, Mr Blackwood, it would have been impossible to stop a love thus predestined, but I know some try to the detriment of all the parties involved.'

Mr Blackwood is almost affected, but Nick told her that if he had wanted to, Mr Blackwood would have let him marry Sophie, which is as good as unheard of. Elizabeth notices but merely continues, 'Mr Blackwood, may I introduce you to my husband?'

She does not expect their visitor to refuse and without awaiting a reply takes him to the sofa, where Darcy puts away his book for a few minutes to shake hands with Mr Blackwood.

'Mr Blackwood, my esteemed and adored husband Mr Darcy. Fitzwilliam, please meet Mr Blackwood, who is also Miss Sophie's father and thus soon to be rather closely connected to our family.'

And Elizabeth may rightly call their family her family, for it is as if she has always been part of it, Anne's uncle and cousins all like her tremendously. And after Darcy has welcomed Mr Blackwood to his home Mr Blackwood observes, 'You are a very fortunate man, Mr Darcy, to have found such an amazing woman to be your wife. Mrs Darcy, Miss de Bourgh, we've come for a reason, Sophie and I have a very entertaining tale to tell, which you will also love to hear, gentlemen. You start, Sophie, you were there from the first.'

After she has let Anne lead their visitors to comfortable chairs close to the sofa on which Darcy is sitting, Elizabeth rings for coffee, then sits down right next to her adoring husband. Frederick and Anne take the other sofa together, and Sophie starts her tale in a gentle but steady voice.

'When we went back to the carriage after the dancing, Nick was waiting for us. I felt bad for leaving him behind at the church but he said it was all right, since he had heard something important. The colonel wanted to know, too, so Nick told us, 'Mrs Fielding announced to the reporters that they did not buy their fabulous dresses in France, but from a certain Miss Filliger who owns a shop in Cheapside. Cheapside, Miss Sophie! That means you can almost certainly afford to wear such a beautiful dress on your wedding, and maybe even buy some more to go out in. Some are even ready-made. It will be in the papers tomorrow morning, so if we go early you may still have plenty to choose from.'

I couldn't believe it but the colonel said that was just something Mrs Darcy would do, let everyone think those dresses were from France if they really wanted to. He said you would never order dresses from France to make an impression on fashionable people, Mrs Darcy.'

'And he was right, Miss Sophie, it never even crossed my mind. This one reporter, Mme Beaution, wrote that my dress for the New Years Eve Ball had certainly been imported from France, and we never denied it. Little did we know how large that myth would grow. But, did you go to Miss Filliger's shop?'

'As soon as we got home, I told papa and asked whether we could go to Cheapside, but he had some business to finish and he said that if Angelina and I wanted to buy a wedding dress he wanted to be there with us to make sure it was suitable. So we had to wait for the next day, and Nick said the shop would be overrun so we pleaded papa to set out early, before everyone had got the newspaper. We brought Nick with us in case there was a crowd, but there wasn't. There were no more than three carriages waiting, and maybe five or six ladies who were already trying on dresses. They were beautiful, though some weren't a perfect fit, apparently they fit them on the spot, which I suppose costs a lot of time. We waited for an hour, and in that time another three carriages arrived with another five ladies. Nick thought it was really funny, he said, 'I'm quite certain these are all ladies of standing, look at the size of their carriages and the number of attendants. And they are waiting in line for ready-made dresses, in a part of town they wouldn't have been found dead in two days ago. Mrs Darcy will be tickled when she hears about this!'

Then those ladies came into the rather small shop and I am very certain two of them recognised Nick. I swear, when they saw him sitting there they turned beet red, looked around the shop and then at each other, in shock, then stuck up their noses and sat down as far from him as they could manage.'

Mr Blackwood adds saucily, 'I bet they didn't even know it of each other, Miss de Bourgh, though I recognised both of them, they are friends of my wife's and they always came by themselves. I didn't even know they were friends.'

Then he looks at his elevated host and explains, a bit ashamed of his enjoyment of a scandalous situation but not very much so, 'The girls' retainer, Nick Fowler, used to be a real ladies' man, Mr Darcy, Mrs Darcy. My wife had loads of friends who would sit with her a few hours then sneak upstairs to meet him. I thought it was kind of funny but my former butler took exception, I suppose he was jealous. You may have heard what he did to poor Nick. I sued the fellow and won, no-one half kills someone under my protection and gets away with it. But I'm afraid things will never be the same for our Nick, he hasn't had a single one over since then. He doesn't seem to rue his loss, though, and least of all those two in Miss Filliger's shop.'

'He was in stitches, papa, over those two. They looked at each other and realised they had been with the same man. And we had a blast until it was our turn, for they kept looking in his direction. And then we got to try on some dresses ourselves and Nick acted as if he was an expert, choosing from the rows and rows of dresses as if he was a ladies' maid.'

'But he did find some good ones, even the lady who helped us choose admitted it.'

Mr Blackwood is still Nick's greatest advocate. Though this is a pretty funny story and Anne doesn't feel imposed upon, those ladies all happened before Nick fell in love with her.

'Papa wanted us to choose a special dress for our wedding but they were not suitable, I want one like Mrs Fielding wore, and like your dress, Anne. So we chose several to take home straight away and made an appointment to have our wedding dresses made to size. We even got to see Miss Filliger herself, she was very busy but glad, too. And then when papa had paid and we went back to the carriage, we saw there was a whole crowd gathered in front.

'I guess the rest of today's papers have arrived,' Nick said dryly, and he made way for us to get back to the carriage. All those people were from our walk of life, I'm sure, they were well-dressed and had servants waiting. I'm certain that lady will have sold all her dresses before the day is out.'

'And I thought you might want to hear about this, Mrs Darcy, since I suppose you had kept this a secret for so long to give that lady a chance to make more dresses to sell. I'm a business man you see, it's what I would have done. Well, not exactly, I would have set her up in a larger store and hired more seamstresses to make her designs, to gain a little profit myself. But I suppose if anyone can buy them the rich people won't want to wear them anymore.'

'Thank you so much for bringing us the news, Mr Blackwood, Miss Sophie. Miss Filliger has done us a great favour by helping us survive three months of being in the public eye and I was wondering how she was doing.'

Mr Blackwood beams like a little boy over Elizabeth's praise. And now Frederick addresses him calmly, 'Do you have half an hour to spare, Mr Blackwood, to discuss our affairs of business in the little pink room? I'm certain Miss de Bourgh and Miss Sophie will manage to keep each other entertained.'

'I'm dying to show Sophie the boudoir, Darcy, is that all right?'

'Of course, Anne, Georgie will be thrilled if every girl in London wants one. But you'll all have coffee with us first, won't you? Simon has been waiting for you to finish your story, but I think he is ready to share out the pie.'

And indeed, Simon has arrived, if he has heard everything he will be thrilled, according to Elizabeth Miss Filliger has him to thank for her success, at least partly.

'Ah, Simon, of course you're at work. I brought Nick because he said you'd want to hear about the shop in Cheapside, but I forgot you most likely don't have time to chat, you're busy, of course. That is just too bad.'

Nick is here? Anne doesn't doubt that Mr Blackwood would let Nick chat away an entire afternoon if his favourite felt like it. Of course Simon cannot do anything except bow politely, then continue his work. He is not obliged to do serving work, he is the housekeeper, he has other tasks, but he likes serving because it gives him a chance to observe their visitors. Too bad Anne cannot go to the back of the house to see Nick, but there is no way she can seek him out with Sophie present.

Darcy guilelessly asks, 'You are talking of the man who will protect Mrs Darcy and Miss de Bourgh on their trip to Kent tomorrow, aren't you?'

Mr Blackwood nods politely. If he knew what was going on under this roof between Anne and Nick, and with Darcy fully aware of it!

'Why not let him stay then, instead of taking him home and having him picked up tomorrow? Then he can talk to Simon all evening. Unless he has his duties in your house, of course...'

Darcy? Setting Nick up to stay the night? Can this be true?

'Why thank you, Mr Darcy, we are much obliged for your kindness! You know Nick is leaving us anyway, and though he as yet dutifully accompanies the girls wherever they go it is not really needed anymore, they go out together with their fiancées and the colonel is such a steady character I'm certain Nick will feel totally superfluous once again. I'd rather he'd get to know his new employer's habits and get acquainted with his staff and Miss de Bourgh's.'

He certainly believes Nick to be in love with Dora, which is why he relishes Frederick and Anne getting together. He supposes they'll be together all the time, his favourite united with the girl he loves hopelessly. Fortunately Dora knows nothing of this or she might be disappointed, she likes Nick more than a little but he is not for her.

While Darcy and Mr Blackwood discuss some particulars of how Nick's travelling gear, undoubtedly including his slapjack, will find its way to Darcy's house, Anne tries to suppress showing anticipation, a whole evening and night with Nick, and Darcy who arranged it for her.

'I think Nick is seeing someone, Anne,' Sophie whispers softly, under cover of the tinkling sound that stirring her coffee makes. Inside, Anne reels with shock, but outside she has to stay calm, it's not merely her dignity at stake here! She manages to school her face to polite indifference, but she cannot speak. It cannot be, Nick cannot have another, he loves her! Maybe hearing her promise herself to Frederick in public drove him to it, there must be plenty of willing ladies still visiting the house.

'You know how he used to be really downhearted ever since you left?'

Anne does not accomplish more than a nod.

'Well, he is not anymore, he is almost gay now even though he has to leave us and work for Mr Manners. And since yesterday he is not merely pleased to have secured a new job close to you, remember how I thought he was in love with you? But now he is positively smug, he does not look like someone hoping to admire his boss' wife from a distance.'

Wait a second, Anne thought Sophie had caught him out with someone, this is just speculation!

'Did you see him with someone then, Sophie?'

'No, but I suspect papa was right after all, why else would he be feeling smug? If they're seeing each other he knows they can be together all the time. It fits perfectly, doesn't it? Maybe you can ask Dora.'

As if Anne was ever going to.

'I think not, Sophie, I think I'll mind my own business and just be glad he is not harbouring a secret love for me. After Lieutenant Talbot I'm quite done with moon-eyed admirers and besides, I'm engaged now.'

Why not take this perfect opportunity to offer Sophie a little gossip and at the same time make her believe Nick means nothing to Anne? Sophie is part of the family now, Fitzwilliam and she undoubtedly discuss everything, and neither of them should even suspect that Anne is seeing a servant.

'Yes, Angelina told me about it, that poor man, will you tell me what actually happened? She only saw from a distance.'

'I'll tell you all about it in the boudoir, you'll love it when you see it. Mrs Fielding decorated it with Mrs Lascelles, a few months ago when they were both still girls.'

Incredible, really, both of them married at seventeen.

But when they have finished drinking coffee, leaving Mr Blackwood behind in the drawing-room with Frederick and Mr Darcy, it appears that Nick is not nearly as careful in front of Sophie as Anne wants him to be. He has never taken his charge seriously and he wouldn't have to, if she weren't engaged to Anne's cousin. When Anne and Sophie are nicely settled in a heap of pillows, Anne telling her friend about Lieutenant Talbot's proposal and her shock at receiving it, there is a knock on the door and when Anne calls out , 'Do come in, please,' Nick enters. He does not gather her to his chest as he usually does, and he doesn't kiss her, but to Anne he shows his affection openly.

If he were never to see Sophie again that wouldn't even be a problem, she would never rat him out and she'd soon forget him. But as the situation is now they will meet again and again at social gatherings, and though Sophie doesn't have a clue that Nick's excellent humour is most likely caused by Darcy's acceptance of his cousin's affair, they cannot afford to take the chance she'd notice. Sophie will keep a close eye on Nick, she cannot help it, she still has some warm feelings for him, and she may seem naïve, she isn't actually, and she undoubtedly talks to her soon-to-be husband. Fitzwilliam is the kind of man anyone would tell their innermost secrets, let alone a girl like Sophie.

'This is absolutely the prettiest room I ever saw. May I join you for a moment, my dear ladies? It's only a few days and then I'll have to leave Miss Sophie's protection to cast myself on the mercy of Miss de Bourgh, to throw me a morsel of kindness once in awhile.'

He is a charmer, undoubtedly, will he stay true to Anne when he can wind every female he comes into contact with around his little finger? Sophie at any rate cannot resist him.

'Oh, Nick, I cannot refuse you anything, not when you will leave us so soon. But I'm sure Miss de Bourgh will take very good care of you, you know she has always been very kind to you. And you'll have Dora close.'

Studying his face intently, Anne can see she need not fear competition from her own maid, Nick understands what Sophie is alluding to but mentioning it does not affect him. And he also clearly understands it won't hurt if Sophie thinks he fancies someone else in the household, someone he could actually marry. For when he replies, 'True, Miss Sophie, and Dora is always kindness itself,' it almost sounds as if he is indeed in love. Then he faces Anne and his brown eyes speak volumes: there is but one woman he loves. It's difficult to refrain from kissing him, but they have done it so often already, Anne does not fear to fail anymore. She can control herself and so can he. Tonight will be their moment.


	116. Chapter 116

Chapter 126

It's always difficult to part with Elizabeth but it won't be for long, just two days and one night. He will survive, though it will be harder now Georgie is married. Married, at seventeen. And tonight they will go out in public for the first time after their wedding. Darcy need not accompany her anymore but to stay in all by himself is not a pleasant prospect. Oh well, no need to decide, yet. And remembering the last time he had to sleep alone things aren't that different at all: though not yet acknowledged, the intimacy between Fielding and Georgie had already been rather profound at that time. But tonight, they will be together and he will be alone. Even Manners will not sleep alone, nor Bob, nor Anne. Well, provided they'll dare roam Mr Collins' humble abode in the depth of night. Imagine the fellow catching them at it, that would make a right scandal!

But Elizabeth will be as lonely, and she will undoubtedly think of him and long for him.

'Come on, Darcy, no moping! They're not even around the corner, yet.'

Manners is in an excellent mood, well, of course, he's had his way in everything, engaged to Miss de Bourgh, Anne happy with her retainer, all of London celebrating for their favourite master of entertainment.

'Before you retreat to brood, Darcy, may I claim an hour of your time today? I have an important document to sign and I'll be indebted to you if you'll be my witness. And of course you'll come to the concert tonight, won't you? It'll make for great entertainment, the two ardent lovers bemoaning the absence of their sweethearts.'

Curious, Darcy agrees, and finds himself in Manners' carriage with its owner and Simon, of all people. Simon is not comfortable at all to be in public with his lover, months of secrecy have taken their toll.

'Relax, Simon, you're my valet now. Even an engaged man can have his valet accompany him on a little stint of business. Better get used to it, my man, we'll be doing this a lot.'

Not being called by a pet name does quiet Simon quite a bit, but he behaves like a servant and keeps his mouth tightly shut.

The carriage halts before a modern building in the middle of town, and Darcy's curiosity mounts. What are they doing out here? Now Manners leads him, and Simon, straight into one of the most ostentatious hallways Darcy has ever seen, marble, not white but pink, not just on the floor but also covering the wall higher than Simon's head. It has been polished until it mirrors his own face back at him. Simon is getting more and more uncomfortable, he knows what is going to happen here, it has something to do with him. The lamps and the doorknobs look like polished brass, but Darcy fears they may be plated with gold instead. Doors are solid oak, probably because they couldn't get marble hinged or they would have used that. Most people would be impressed by this hall, but Darcy is not most people. He finds it overdone and in rather bad taste, it's just too much of everything, there is no balance, it's all over the top like his aunt's furniture, supposed to impress but failing in his own case. And Simon is not impressed either, not by their surroundings at any rate, he is nervous because of what is going to happen.

There are no staircases in the hall, though he knows the building is at least four stories high from seeing the outside, and it's obviously not someone's house, there are liveried attendants at every door and two on the outside door, but they look more like guards than like house staff. Though broadly built and haughty looking, Darcy guesses these guards are more for show than anything else, he doesn't see them hiding a slapjack under their liveries, let alone be able, and daring, enough to use one.

'I'm afraid I'm going to have to find myself a new lawyer, soon,' Manners comments in a low voice. 'I think too much of my money is being spent on trappings by my current man. And it doesn't even work, it's too much, as if they expect to make better deals by showing off. It's hard work I want from them, not an effort to outclass their customers. What do you think, Simon? I can see what Darcy thinks of the decor without asking.'

And Darcy realises anyone can see that, better show a little more dignity here. Simon comes to life just a tiny bit and observes dryly, 'I've seen quite a number of great houses when travelling with Mr Darcy, and some of them were in atrocious taste. But I could understand why their owners would want to show off their wealth and status. This not only beats all of them in tackiness, I don't understand why they'd do it, I guess your reaction must be typical: why pay for this when you only want your legal affairs handled professionally?'

Legal affairs, a lawyer, what are they doing here? Not sign a contract for Simon's service, that is not a matter for a lawyer, besides, from what Simon told Darcy he isn't going to be in Manners' service. It will appear that way to the outside world, but there is not going to be a master-servant relationship between them. Darcy approves, imagine a man expecting a certain amount of labour from his wife!

Before he can rack his brain to come up with alternatives, they enter one of the guarded doors and come into a large room which exudes an entirely different atmosphere, but still shows the same hand in its decorations: expensive, over the top, in dubitable taste. The room is large, the ceiling is high, and there is very little in the way of furniture to fill up the immense space. The space is much longer than it is wide and there are only the two large windows at the very back, making two hopefully polished-brass lamps a necessity rather than a fitting part of the design. For whereas the elongated space is panelled to a man's height with priceless walnut instead of marble, and the floor is made of a dazzling geometrical wooden inlay, there is no fabric at all in the entire space, nor a single painting or other ornament. And yet these lamps are incredibly ornamental, cast in the shape of a clawing lion, one extended paw holding the actual basin with oil and the wick. They are in horrible taste and totally incongruent with the room, they must have come from the owner's former office. Or maybe a curiosity shop. Darcy really hopes they are made of brass and not gilded, though they do shine almost unnaturally brightly.

Once past the lamps the room is bare except for a huge desk on pillared legs right in front of the windows at the very end of the space, forcing visitors to cross the entire length of it. This is going too far, no way would Darcy walk this gauntlet every time he needed some advice, he is glad his lawyer has a rather cluttered office, with shelves filled with books and a filing cabinet. A locked filing cabinet. There are just two chairs on their side of the desk, and Simon approaches it as if he plans to remain standing, but Manners won't have that. He shakes hands with his lawyer and greets him as heartily as he greets everyone, then says, 'You seem to lack a third chair, Donovan, you knew I was bringing my own witness, didn't you?'

The lawyer, taken aback by his bluntness, stutters, 'I didn't expect you to bring a gentleman to witness this signing, Mr Manners. I'll have one brought straight away.'

And he rings a little bell, at which sound the liveried guard comes in, crosses the entire room, hears his master's wishes then crosses it again. Manners does not sit down but introduces Darcy to the lawyer, then Simon. Darcy's name surprises the man and he observes, 'It is an honour to receive you in my modest office, Mr Darcy, I hope you will be pleased by our service.'

Well, he needs to adjust his welcoming speech for his office is no longer modest. And he was clearly planning to keep Simon standing, a lawyer will know the names of all the families that matter and Simon's certainly isn't one of them. But Darcy does not show his displeasure and merely mumbles a polite nothing.

By now the guard is returning, it takes a while since he needs to lug a chair all the way across the room, but he manages and puts it down next to the others. They all sit down, and now Darcy will find out what they are doing here.

'Will you both please read that very carefully, Mr Darcy, Mr Close, then if you, Mr Close, as beneficiary, would sign here, and you, Mr Darcy, as witness, sign here? Then Mr Manners can sign and I will seal the whole.'

The lawyer hands Darcy the document first and he is not going to embarrass Simon by objecting, though a beneficiary should read and sign first in his opinion. Of course the language is convoluted and almost impossible to understand, but Darcy has had a similar document made up himself not six months ago, so he knows exactly what it entails. Manners is safeguarding Simon's future as Darcy has Elizabeth's, he is securing ten thousand pounds in his name, half of which is to be invested in a thriving business which Darcy guesses is Mr Blackwood's, and half of which is to be kept safe at all times. Simon will not receive his independence after Manners' death, it is his from the moment the document is sealed. He can take it and leave Manners whenever he likes. This is profound, but Darcy schools his expression to neutrality since the lawyer should not know there is an emotional tie between his client and Mr Close. Let him think it is some debt of honour, like Darcy paying off Wickham to let go of his claim on the living deeded to him by his godfather Mr Richard Darcy.

Simon also keeps a straight face while he reads the document carefully, then signs it in the designated spot. Manners signs as resolutely, without checking it beforehand, at least he trusts his lawyer, who then seals it and offers it to Simon.

'I don't need to tell you this belongs in a safe, do I, Mr Close?'

Proving he can easily pass for a gentlemen if he likes, Simon replies with a dignified, 'You need not, Mr Donovan, it will be safe. Thank you for your concern.'

The lawyer is impressed, no wonder he needs an office like this if he impresses that easily, and they all take leave, then walk back, Darcy taking care not to scuff the priceless floor with his well-worn boots, had he known they were going to a palace he would have dressed the part and worn shoes. But he manages to his own satisfaction, and soon they are back outside, where Manners' carriage is still waiting. Once inside, Manners sighs, 'I really need to change lawyers, what is yours like, Darcy? Does he take new customers?'

'Mine is very down to earth, I'm a satisfied customer. But I would not change immediately, he'd remember his last case forever, scrutinize what went wrong, you don't want him to remember your deeding some commoner a fortune all that well. He might wonder what it was all about, send someone to investigate. Better let him handle one or two more cases, then change.'

'Darcy, you're priceless, thank you. I know there is a risk involved, but I need to know Simon will not be forced to serve anyone ever again should something happen to me. I know I will have an heir to my property soon, Anne will inherit everything and I'm sure she'd take excellent care of Simon, but like you said about Elizabeth, who knows what will happen? Better to be certain.'

'You do realise I can just take this money and run, Frederick? I couldn't say anything in front of that fellow, and I suppose you planned it this way, but why? Why not upon your decease?'

The very thought of losing Manners makes Simon's voice sound rough with feeling.

'I love you, Simon, and I want you to be free no matter what happens. With your own fortune I hope you will never feel dependent on me. Shall we take it to my bank, or do you want to keep it yourself?'

'Of course we'll take it to your bank, that lawyer is honour bound not to tell anyone about it, isn't he? If we place it with your valuables no-one will ever find it.'

Not until Simon needs it, unless Manners leaves him or sends him away. And Darcy is the witness, it is his duty to point this out to him.

'As witness in this transaction, Simon, I feel obliged to point out to you that it does not answer Manners' intention to leave it with his belongings: should he ask you to leave him, you will not be able to retrieve it. And should he pass away and leave an heir who is not kindly inclined towards you, that person would hold your future in his or her hands. To be absolutely safe you will have to keep it with you or store it somewhere else. Will my bank do? I think I can be considered neutral in this case.'

Simon doesn't like that at all, he is speechless with outrage but doesn't dare talk back to his employer, actually, former employer, but Darcy still is his host and he is quite certain Simon will always defer to him. But Manners intercedes and says quickly, 'Thank you again, Darcy, I am absolutely certain I will always love Simon but I did say I want to make sure he is provided for. Will you please take Darcy's offer, Simon, and give it to his banker for safekeeping? It would make me very happy.'

And again Simon shows them the gentleman he will be abroad by acceding graciously.

'I will, dear Frederick. Whatever makes you happy, I will do it instantly.'

'Really?' Manners drawls, 'I suppose that is an offer I cannot resist.'

Imagine Nick's surprise when he is about to climb on the box of Mr Darcy's pretty little carriage and Mrs Darcy calls him back, 'You don't want to share that narrow box seat with Bob and Fanny, Nick, they were married just three days ago and they will be unbearably intimate. Better sit inside with us, it's warmer and you will actually be welcome there.'

When he is sitting next to Anne and opposite Mrs Darcy the latter nods as if to herself then addresses him, 'I did wonder why you were wearing so many layers. You were expecting to ride outside. Better shed a few or you'll be sweating soon, this carriage is very snug and the weather has been so much warmer the last few days, it'll heat up quickly.'

With those fiery horses, too, they're not the tallest or strongest Nick has seen but they are muscled like greyhounds and reputedly as fast.

And with poor Mr Darcy waving his wife goodbye, they are off. Since their little conversation at Mrs Fielding's wedding Nick has had to revise his opinion of the gentleman, he is still a bit careful around such a powerful man but apparently Anne and himself had him to thank for another amazing night together. He did take Nick to the side for a few moments just now and asked him to keep an eye on his wife as well, make sure her cousin treated her with respect.

'Mr Collins has no real influence anywhere, you can talk back at him without suffering any consequences. With Manners and myself to back you up you need only refrain from doing him physical harm. And don't let him catch you sneaking through the hall at night, he is a snoop himself so be careful.'

Though Nick is certain Mrs Darcy can take excellent care of herself, he did promise her doting husband what he asked for, it cannot hurt to make a good impression on a gentleman of his influence.

Since they have decided to keep Dora in the dark about their involvement for as long as they can, there will be no exchange of intimacies during this trip, but Mrs Darcy knowing will have its advantages for she has promised to make sure Nick will not be relegated to the servants' quarters, if they even have such at the parsonage where they will be staying. Apparently, Mrs Darcy's cousin has a very small house.

So what can they talk about on the road? Nick wishes to make a good impression on Mrs Darcy, from what Anne has told Nick she has the reputation for fearlessness and loving banter, and though Simon told him she inspires great respect in her staff despite her tender age, so far she has been nothing but familiar and friendly with Nick. Apparently, Colonel Compton loved her more than a little and was sorely hurt when she married Mr Darcy, his own cousin. Time to test his future hostess with a little gossip from behind the scenes.

'Sitting with the drivers on Mr and Mrs Fielding's wedding was quite a novelty to me, Mrs Darcy, Miss de Bourgh, did you know they gossip as much as house staff?'

Ah, the ladies like gossip, too, of course, who doesn't. This will be Nick's only task in the near future, and it promises to be a diverting one.

'Your Mr Hugo, Mrs Darcy, did not deign to join the other drivers, or maybe he didn't dare to leave the horses with Bob having gone back to his little wife. Which meant the others felt free to wonder whether there could be any truth in rumours that Mr Darcy was exceptionally jealous of other men paying attention to you. Mr Bingley's driver remarked he'd heard of your husband throwing a tantrum at his master's country house and yourself calling him to order instantly. Over a lazy and singularly unattractive gentleman apparently, which made him loath to believe it.

'You know how people make up the strangest things about the Darcy family,' he said, 'they just cannot accept that their staff don't talk about their master and mistress. I've heard rumours that the first thing Mrs Darcy did in their town house was to lay off their first maid, who had been in the family for ten years, because she didn't like her looks. Well, I've visited their town house and I can assure you, there was nothing wrong with that maid's looks, but all the more with the inside of her head. She had it coming, she thought she was the mistress of the house herself. Bob didn't dare get himself a cup of coffee at the last.'

Some of the others nodded, I suppose they had visited, too, since everyone present was family.'

Mrs Darcy is interested to hear what kind of gossip is flying about, and she even deigns to explain.

'We did lay her off for her looks, you know, just not that kind of looks. From the moment I crossed the threshold of that house she tried to murder me with her eyes, it was enough to make Mr Darcy anxious over my continued health. And she did bully the staff, which was the main reason for having her dismissed. Did they have anything else to say of her? I'm kind of curious how she fared, she was pretty nasty towards us in the end, even to her beloved master.'

Now Dora dares to say something, which may be considered a miracle.

'Begging your pardon, Mrs Darcy, but I did hear things about her when Miss de Bourgh was staying with the Blackwood twins. Felicity, their maid, said she was a washing woman in the part of town where her parents lived. She said the maid had been laid off because you didn't like the way she looked at you, and that she told everyone that Mr Darcy's valet loved men instead of women. That is just ridiculous, all the girls love Simon, and even Felicity said she wasn't surprised that the woman had been reduced to a washing woman if she talked trash like that. We all like a bit of gossip but there are limits. Everyone knows a valet has to have a certain way with gentlemen or he couldn't do the job. Colonel Compton's man is as familiar, maybe Mr Manners' former man wasn't exactly, but he was old and had a family.'

Mrs Darcy certainly seems interested in what is going on in the back of a great house, and Nick will oblige her, since Dora appears to be in a talkative mood.

'You must have met any number of gentlemen's and genteel ladies' staff, Dora, living and working on such a great estate.'

'Oh, yes,' she replies, 'Lady de Bourgh received a lot of important visitors and their staff was always made to feel very welcome. It's fun to live in a large house, there are so many different people about, gardeners, huntsmen, you name it. We always had a great time, you'll see when we go fetch Miss de Bourgh's stuff, I'll introduce you to them. They won't tell on us, they liked me and they'll like you. And they always felt sorry for Miss de Bourgh.

They did gossip a lot about their mistress, I suppose that is not respectful but she is not like you and Miss Anne and Mr Darcy or Mr Blackwood, she does not care about her people. But servants are people, they see things, it doesn't do to just ignore them, we don't like that. Some of the gossip was very improper, I'm sure, for they'd be laughing and talking and when I came closer they'd all fall silent instantly. I suppose because I was still very young, but maybe they were afraid I'd rat them out to Miss de Bourgh. It was something to do with the Lady's doctor, I suppose they didn't like him much and neither did I. I wouldn't have told on them for the likes of him, I assure you. Begging your pardon, Miss de Bourgh, but some women were mothers themselves and when I described those bloodlettings of his they would shake their heads and say, 'Poor Miss Anne, let that butcher try touching one of my children!'

I'm sorry I never told you any of this, Miss, maybe I should have.'

Anne's reaction makes Nick fall in love with her all over again, hopefully Dora won't notice for he just cannot keep his love for her from showing.

'I remember what is was like for you, Dora, with Mrs Jenkinson hovering over me all the time, and mother bossing everyone half to death. You were not the woman you are now, you know, you were not only younger but also a lot less self-assured. You've learned as much as I have from living in town, coming into contact with people like Felicity and Nick and Simon who have not been browbeaten all their working lives. Besides, I don't know if I would have believed you, I felt so weak all the time, how could a little blood account for all that? I never realised how much it added up to until Dr Parker told me. Let us be glad I was saved and feel much better now, Dora.'

And to Mrs Darcy she says, 'Isn't it incredible how mother never realised everybody knew? About her and the doctor? It's why you keep your number of staff down, isn't it?'

'I was never used to having much staff anyway, and Fitzwilliam was a bachelor and always staying with friends. I suppose now we're married we should have servants all over the place, like in those private houses where Eric plays once in awhile, and like your mother has at Rosings. But I'd rather have a little privacy, let the people talk about our lack of dignity in our household rather than have their servants discuss our most intimate habits among themselves.'

And Nick almost guesses they have something to hide besides their valet having an affair with their best friend and their cousin sleeping with a servant. Something very intimate that concerns only them. Well, Nick has not heard any gossip about the two of them flying about other than the original opinion that Mrs Darcy hooked a big fish for his money, but not only has he seen with his own eyes that isn't true, the love between them is almost palpable, that rumour is getting old now they have been in public so much. Anyone can see they truly love each other, and Mrs Darcy is truly the darling of society, no paper has ever published anything even near criticism about her, well, not until she revealed how Mrs Fielding, Miss de Bourgh and herself bought their French couture ready-made in Cheapside. And even those articles made more of a fool of the reporter than of Mrs Darcy, considering the number of well-to-do ladies and ladies' daughters overwhelming Miss Filliger's boutique right after their publication.

The countryside flies by outside the carriage while they talk about all kinds of innocuous subjects, Mrs Fielding's wedding, the plans to go abroad, speculations about Mr Manners' estate, their coming trip to Pemberley. Dora mostly listens, but sometimes she dares say something, and both ladies take her remarks very seriously.

Since they have left early and are travelling incredibly fast, they will be at Mrs Darcy's friend's house by lunch, but first they drop off Dora at her parents' house in a village close to Rosings, but on the opposite side of Hunsford, where they will be staying.

'I can't wait to see my father and mother and brothers and sisters again, Miss de Bourgh, thank you so much for taking me along. And Nick, shall we meet tonight at eight at the back entrance of the park? For our little excursion to the house? Wait until the other maids hear I live in London now, in Mr Darcy's house, with Mrs Darcy and the famous Mr Fielding, they'll be seeing green with envy.'

She is not nervous at all about breaking and entering, which is why Nick won't be either.

'I'm certain someone will be able to show me where to wait. I'll be there, Dora, enjoy your stay with your parents.'

Those parents turn out to live in a tiny village with picturesque houses, and Dora is certainly loved at home, before they are out of sight Nick sees a whole bunch of people running towards her and embracing her. Nick knows what it is like to grow up in a loving family, even if his parents were away from home very often, and he feels sorry for Anne that she had such a love-starved youth after her beloved father passed away.

Since they are no longer restrained by Dora's presence, Mrs Darcy comes straight to the point.

'Mrs Collins wrote they cannot put up four thoroughbreds nor any extra staff, so Fitzwilliam has reserved a double room for Bob and Fanny at the Hunsford Arms. Bob will take care of the team and nothing else, Fanny will visit Mrs Collins just after lunch tomorrow, an hour or so before Bob will pick us up for our trip back home. I will insist that you get a room right next to Anne, Nick, since you are her guard. Do not let my cousin browbeat you into accepting anything less, and please keep in mind that he may inform Lady Catherine of anything he hears from us. So be very discreet visiting each other as well as talking to him. I think he will behave but contrary to what he may seem he is the most unpredictable person I know.'

Both Anne and himself nod, frankly Nick didn't expect to be able to be with Anne during their stay at a minister's house, a relative of Mrs Darcy's. But they are getting used to sneaking around, they will find a way to be together if at all possible.

'I will be very careful, Mrs Darcy,' he promises, and Anne does the same.

The second morning after their wedding Eric feels like a different person, all his ambitions suddenly seem so overwrought, his life is fine as it is, isn't it? He is almost bonelessly relaxed, his usual drive to get to work either gone or fast asleep. It should worry him to be so free of anxiety or drive but it doesn't. He merely smiles at his lovely lady and spreads some delicious preserve on another piece of toast.

What has happened to him? Why doesn't he feel the slightest need to practise or compose? Is this the end of his creative genius, will he be an ordinary pianist from now on? Oh well, would it matter? He has the girl of his dreams and he can earn enough money to keep both of them with concerts and lessons. Plenty of spoiled young ladies in London who want to improve their accomplishments. Then Georgiana won't have to cross the North Sea and risk the swamps in the Lower Countries and the poor desolated areas of Germany, nor the unforgiving heights of the Alps. Or Napoleon's armies, the news is always alarming these days. They'll stay here in London and raise a brood of beautiful children, and spend every summer in Derbyshire with Darcy and Elizabeth.

Eric cannot remember pleasanter musings ever having occupied his mind, and while he spins images of a cute little house in town and a whole flock of little girls and boys filling it, he does not notice his beloved and her brother watching him with rising amusement and more than a little warmth. But, though Elizabeth is away from home and Mr Bennet has reluctantly returned to Longbourn, no-one in this household is allowed to escape being made fun of. It would set a bad example.

'What have you done to your husband, my dear sister?' Darcy asks Georgiana. His face betrays barely concealed amusement. Though it is admittedly a little late to be having breakfast, Eric suddenly notices his brother-in-law looking disgustingly bright for a man who should be pining for his little wife, her having left early this morning.

'I don't know, we didn't do anything really out of the ordinary,' she replies. 'He didn't even push me to put in some practice before breakfast.'

'Of course he didn't, it's almost noon! If Mrs Annesley didn't have a special thing for him you would have gone hungry until it was time for lunch.'

Frederick now involves himself in the discussion, looking up from his newspaper.

'I'm afraid you're wrong there, Darcy. Simon would never suffer Eric to go without his breakfast. He'd waylay him with it if necessary. But you are right, he does look different, almost relaxed. I'm afraid you've spoiled him for good, Georgiana.'

As soon as Eric has enjoyed the first bite of his piece of toast he replies calmly, 'You can tease me as much as you like, nothing can disturb me today.'

'I remember that feeling from when I was just married. It'll pass, as soon as you get used to...well, let me say, certain physical exercise you didn't previously engage in. It takes a lot of energy and leaves a very lazy, self-satisfied feeling in its wake. You'll be back to your usual drive in a few days.'

'Too bad, Darcy,' Eric replies only half truthfully, 'I could get used to being lazy and content.'

Of course that is the wrong thing to say, for at that very moment the door opens and Johnson enters with a boy in a livery even smarter than Simon's. Eric has seen plenty of boys with envelopes come to the house to request concerts, but somehow this one is different, Johnson treats him with respect instead of careless indifference, Frederick and Darcy both seem rather pale all of a sudden. Frederick throws Eric a look that says, 'Let me handle this,' which he is pleased to do but not because of his lazy mood of that morning. It's gone altogether with the atmosphere in the house suddenly thick enough to cut with a knife. The boy has no envelope, and to Eric's astonishment he adresses Frederick first! He must be a noble page to outrank Frederick.

'Mr Manners, pleased to meet you. Congratulations on your engagement to of one of England's brightest flowers! I'm looking forward to the day that I'm old enough to join your famous New Years Eve Ball.'

Frederick thanks the little fellow, he cannot be much older than thirteen but he speaks like a young lord. He greets Darcy in a similar manner, then turns towards Eric himself and bows not an inch less deeply than he did to the two men of rank.

'Mr Fielding, I presume? May I congratulate you on your recent marriage? My good friend Lord Fortescue was enchanted by your lady wife, then Miss Darcy, at the Ball last year.'

He does not offer Eric a chance to reply, either he still needs to learn some of the finer points of genteel behaviour, or he is a bit nervous about his assignment.

'Mr Fielding, I have a request from His Highness the Prince of Wales for you to come and play for him tomorrow evening. He wishes you to entertain him and a few of his friends in the music room of his residence at Carlton House. Of course you will be suitably compensated for your trouble. He begs you to bring Mrs Fielding since he has heard you play a delightful Italian duet, he is fluent in Italian, you know. You are to report to the back of the house at seven 'o clock sharp while the Prince is dining with his guests. You can then get to know His Highness' instrument, or actually his instruments, for he has had a harpsichord taken out of storage for Mrs Fielding to use.'

Now it is clear the page expects Eric to be flattered and assure him he will be there at seven, with Mrs Fielding in tow. But he cannot: he has a concert planned in a middle-class theatre and it is sold out, he cannot cancel on a whim, not even a prince's, that concert was planned at least a month ago. Eric can see Frederick all ready to accept for him but that is not acceptable. Not only does Eric disapprove of what he has read about the Prince, how he treats his lady wife and how he spends money like it is nothing. Eric also does not believe in favouring the rich and spoiled over hard-working people. Mrs Darcy predicted he would become the darling of the common people, and Eric wants to keep faith.

With utmost politeness and gentility he bows and replies, 'I am honoured and thankful to have caught the Prince's attention, he is known as a patron of the arts in all its disciplines. But I'm afraid I cannot oblige him, I have a prior engagement for tomorrow in the shape of a sold-out theatre. Of course I will be pleased to choose some other time to play for him.'

Now Frederick and even Darcy do not agree with his statement, and the page is almost outraged. How dare anyone refuse an invitation from his master! But Eric is steadfast in his belief and he can see Georgiana agrees with him. She cannot be eager to be the centre of attention for so many people of rank, but generally one doesn't refuse a Prince anything, not even if one prefers his parents' morals.

The boy has recovered from his shock, he will be a great diplomat some day, when he is grown up. As politely as before he observes, 'Though it is highly unusual for artist to refuse an invitation of this kind, I am just a messenger and I will relay your regrets to His Highness.'

He bows to each of them, then spies Georgiana still sitting at the table behind him and bows decidedly deeper to her.

'Mrs Fielding, I am so pleased to meet you. We pages are all very jealous of Mr Fielding, of his talent, but especially of having gained your love.'

Well, he is very charming, though maybe a bit forthcoming for a page, even one of high descent. Georgiana curtseys and observes, 'Thank you very much, my Lord, will you please give my respects to Lord Fortescue?'

That pleases the boy and he affirms, then has Johnson lead him out. When they hear the front door close, Frederick shows his feelings for once and blurts out, 'Are you out of your mind? Refusing an invitation from the Prince of Wales himself? Your future king?'

Put that way, maybe he is right, but still Eric doesn't really understand why he should disappoint a few hundred people to please one spoiled brat. He has been gaining knowledge of the world really quickly through reading the papers and talking to people of all walks of life, notably Mr Goodfellow, who is very well-informed and who loves to teach.

'Well, I admire you for sticking to your promises, Fielding,' Darcy says, 'and if the Prince throws a tantrum over it he'll just disappoint me even more.'

Darcy reads the same paper, obviously, since it's his. Georgiana also comments.

'I agee with both of you, those people have paid for their tickets, they have a right to their entertainment. Though it would have been quite an honour to meet the Prince, they say he is very courteous.'

Eric laughs at her expression, 'Do I need to be jealous?'

'They say our Prince prefers his women well-ripened, so I guess there is no danger whatsoever.'

'All right, all right, I stand corrected,' Frederick sighs. 'And that young prig of a page was just insufferable. I bet he sings a different tune before his master. Who apparently reads the papers, or has them read for him, to know so much about your repertoire, Eric. And I suppose we're all too insignificant to take action against.'

But that very afternoon the page returns, his attitude much the same but his message a pleasing one.

'His Highness wonders whether you will be able to indulge him tomorrow afternoon instead? At three? He really wants to hear your romantic music, he has read and heard so much about it.'

The boy addresses Eric in person, which is as it should be, Darcy may be his patron and Frederick his advisor, but he is the artist after all.

'It will be my honour and my pleasure.'

Eric looks at Georgiana significantly and she replies, 'I'm fine with it. Why don't we take the little piano, to give your music the full impact?'

She is right, and he asks the page, knowing full well the boy has no authority at all, but convinced it won't hurt to make him feel important, 'Would it be acceptable if we bring our own instrument for my romantic pieces? I suppose His Highness has an Italian instrument, and despite their superior technology my compositions have a greater impact when played on an English piano-forte. It's only a little thing, not too heavy and it fits through most doors.'

'The Prince has plenty of space in his music room and it opens towards the gardens, so I guess there will be no problem getting it in. And he insists on the best, I am certain he wouldn't be satisfied with hearing your music less than perfectly represented. Please bring the special instrument.'

Well, that's it, they all bow once more, each party satisfied with the proceedings.

As soon as the page has left, the others' observations start, and not just towards him, towards his beloved as well.

'You are my hero, Eric, to lay your will on the Prince of Wales himself,' Frederick states.

'And mine,' Darcy affirms, 'but Georgie, won't you be very nervous having your second performance ever in front of such important people?'

She shrugs and replies, 'We play together all day long, I can dream those pieces. Of course I'll be nervous before strangers, but there'll be a lot fewer of them than at your usual concert.'

Of course she will be nervous, but Eric will be, too. Admitting it won't change a thing, they will do what they have to do and give it their best effort. Darcy's reaction just proves other people are different, Georgiana and Eric are so much alike: Georgiana is ready to perform on stage, so why worry about the rank of her audience? A performer is either ready or not, whatever the status of those who are enjoying the show. Admittedly, routine makes performing easier, but so does having one's husband to lean on. In this instance, Eric will be the experienced one and help his beloved feel confident and able. And some other time, she will help him negotiate or show an interest in others. That's what being together is all about, isn't it?

'You're ready for the stage, my love, and you're right, one audience is the same as another. I wonder whether being married will change the way people approach me. Well, the way ladies approach me. But I guess we'll find out tonight. Do you want to join me, play the sonata together?'

She shakes her head resolutely and observes, 'I know it may sound strange, but I'd rather start with a smaller audience, no matter how important. I wasn't that nervous when we were playing the renaissance piece, but the very idea of performing for more than a hundred people makes me shake with fear.'


	117. Chapter 117

Chapter 127

As the carriage drives away from the parsonage, towards the inn where Bob will stable the horses, Elizabeth is more pleased than she expected to be, seeing Charlotte waiting to embrace and kiss her, bundle in her arms. Charlotte looks just fine, slim, healthy, her hair groomed and put up in a very becoming style. She is still wearing one of the dresses Elizabeth gifted her with, but since it is adjustable in size it's only a little fuller in the skirts than one would expect. Charlotte will undoubtedly appreciate the three ready-made dresses Elizabeth brought her from London, she can see they'll need some adjustments since Charlotte has already lost more weight than Elizabeth and Anne expected, but that shouldn't be a problem. Elizabeth can fit dresses very well and Charlotte is an expert seamstress, as eldest daughter of a large family with a modest income she always did her share of adjusting clothes from one child to the next.

'Dear Eliza, I'm so glad you could make it!'

Charlotte greets her friend first, but of course Mr Collins is very conscious of rank, and though Elizabeth's has risen significantly with her marriage Anne still outranks her. And while Elizabeth admires little William Lucas, not very difficult to do since he is an adorable baby with cute chubby cheeks, a droll little tuft of blond hair right on top of his head and beautiful blue eyes, Mr Collins grovels for Anne. Elizabeth does not hear what he says, she keeps her eyes and ears on her friend and the baby, Anne is used to this behaviour from Mr Collins, she can handle him.

Then, just like that, Charlotte hands her the infant, he is much heavier than he looks!

'Here, you hold him for a moment, just support his little head and all will be fine, remember? I'll check Will before Miss de Bourgh's guard does.'

How does she know Nick is there to guard Anne? Feeling both flattered that Charlotte trusts her with her newborn and slightly overwhelmed by the responsibility of handling such a vulnerable, and heavy!, living creature, Elizabeth struggles to find her balance with the precious burden in her arms. Fortunately the little thing does not move much, suppose she dropped him! What does Charlotte mean, remember? Then she understands, Charlotte has much younger siblings and she is seven years older than Elizabeth, she must have held her little brothers and sisters a lot. But Elizabeth and Lydia are just four years apart, if she has ever held her sister as a baby she certainly cannot remember anything of it. Babies never interested her much, Jane often helped her aunt with the children, she would know how to hold a baby, but Elizabeth doesn't. Still, it's not that hard, and he is looking at her with a very serious little face. It's not as red nor as wrinkly as she expected, and even though she realises very well that this is Mr Collins' son, she cannot but like the little thing.

'Miss de Bourgh! So good to see you!'

Charlotte interrupts her husband fearlessly, she never used to do that, she has indeed grown a lot. They shake hands, and Charlotte cannot help commenting on Anne's announced engagement.

'And my sincerest congratulations on your engagement to Mr Manners. Didn't I tell you he had an interest in you from the very first?'

Though not in the way Charlotte means, Elizabeth guesses that is true, maybe Frederick did plan this marriage from the moment Colonel Fitzwilliam mentioned Anne during his drunken raves. Though Frederick would not have taken to Anne if she hadn't turned out kind and smart. Anne smiles sweetly and replies, 'So you did, Mrs Collins, so you did. And you were right, as you were in Darcy's case. I suppose you have a special talent for finding out these things. May I introduce you to Fowler? My fiancée would only let me come this close to Rosings if I agreed to take a professional guard. And since I feel much safer with him around I immediately agreed.'

Charlotte and Mr Collins are perfectly civil to Nick, and then it's time for Elizabeth to greet her cousin, not something she looks forward to but it has to be done. Fortunately she still has his son in her arms so there is no way he can greet her familiarly. Elizabeth does not give him the chance to speak first, she outranks him and he needs to have that rubbed in regularly. She looks at his cute boy to put herself in a good mood, then faces her cousin with a smile and a friendly nod. No handshake or curtsey for Will, he has not earned any sign of condescension from her.

'Congratulations, Mr Collins, on your adorable little boy!'

Her cousin does not show the slightest sign of the bitterness that characterized his attitude in the last hour he spent at their town house, instead he looks flattered and pleased. At her, the cousin who refused him and was subsequently married far above him. And now, the first time she has ever given him a real reason to dislike her, he seems as happy as a child with a handful of sweets. Well, didn't she tell Nick she considered Mr Collins the least predictable person she knew? A quick look at her companions shows her Nick already has his host's measure, he is the perfect guard, and his hovering over Anne can easily be seen as performing his duty, though it is in fact real affection, no doubt there. This man is no longer a philanderer, Elizabeth is ready to believe Anne right in her assessment. Anne catches Elizabeth's eye and winks, she has apparently decided to take the gentlemen's approach to Mr Collins, see him as a diversion. Charlotte shrugs, she cannot help her husband's peculiarities any more than she can stop the sun from rising each day, but since replacing Lady Catherine as Will's first priority in life and the arrival of little William she probably doesn't care that much anymore. She has two chubby males adoring her, and that is more than she ever expected from life. Dear Charlotte. She takes the baby back from Elizabeth's arms, a relief despite his cuteness, and leads them all into the house with a heartfelt, 'Lunch is ready, you must all be hungry after such a drive.'

As they move inside, Elizabeth notices Nick hesitating to follow. Anne is chatting with Charlotte and doesn't notice, but Elizabeth manages to catch his eye and gestures him to come along. With a look towards Charlotte's staff he walks towards her, and now Elizabeth also discerns a young maid and a lady in her thirties, possibly the housekeeper, struggling with their visitor's luggage.

'I can't go in and stuff myself and leave those two to break their backs, ma'am,' he excuses himself, 'would it be very bad manners if I helped them?'

Deciding in a split second, Elizabeth tells him, 'I can imagine you'd rather make a good impression on them, Nick. Who knows what can be learned. Go ahead, I'll tell Anne, I suppose she will be safe enough for half an hour. Will you join us when you're done? I guess if you help them, they'll feel obliged to feed you but I think it's best if you establish your place at the main table straight away.'

'Thank you, Mrs Darcy, I'll be back with Miss de Bourgh as quickly as I can.'

And he smiles at her, his face transforming from rather plain to positively appealing. So that's what Anne sees in him. Oh, and he is incredibly strong, he lifts one of their travelling chests easily all by himself. The women nearly swoon, and Elizabeth needs to join her friend and the others instead of watching a servant showing off.

Soon she is sitting in her usual spot at Charlotte's table, the new mother keeping her baby close in a basket whilst chatting with Anne in a very familiar though respectful way. Anne is obviously enjoying herself, though she does look at the empty spot at the table where Nick should be.

'Fowler will be a bit later, Miss de Bourgh, he is helping the staff to put away our belongings, I suppose he will join us in ten minutes.'

Charlotte looks a bit embarrassed, 'I'm sorry, I forgot to warn our own man he would be needed to help. I hope your guard won't be put out to have to do such a menial task?'

Elizabeth doesn't hesitate to reply, 'He will not be, Charlotte, since he offered to help. They were glad to accept.'

'Fowler doesn't mind helping out once in a while, Mrs Collins, he is very strong and proud of it. I feel so safe with him along, you know he rescued me from some lowlife my mother sent after me. Mr Manners trusts him to guard me with his life, which is why he is expected to be by my side at all times.'

Mr Collins is just nodding in understanding, his spirit seems truly broken, he should be outraged to find Miss de Bourgh in the constant company of a man who is not her husband. Suddenly Elizabeth feels rather sorry for him, but at the same time she still trusts him as far as she can throw him. As long as he is with them, Anne is safe, but once her cousin has had the chance to inform his patroness of Anne's presence at his house, Elizabeth is sure Nick should not let Anne out of his sight, not even for a minute. But wait, how can he do that if he is to break into Rosings? They didn't think of that! Well, she'll just have to lock herself into her room until Nick comes back.

'I'm sorry my mother treated you so badly, Mr Collins,' Anne says kindly, 'you couldn't help any of it. I don't even reproach you for telling her I was spending time with Darcy and his family, I know what she is like and you are at her mercy. I won't even hold it against you if you tell her I'm here now, that's what my guard is for.'

And now Mr Collins really looks like Will!

'Dear Miss de Bourgh, when Charlotte told me you had been waylaid by an uncouth individual at your mother's bidding, to force you to return to Rosings when you were doing so well in town, enjoying yourself with those charming girls and a man as admirable as Mr Manners, I did feel guilty, for I knew I had told her what made her angry. Under severe pressure, I admit, but I felt cowardly and despicable nonetheless. And realising what I had become made me angry, and determined to stick to what was right next time, if I ever got another chance to prove myself. I will not betray you again, Miss de Bourgh, and if you don't believe I'll do it out of loyalty, please believe I'm much more afraid of Mr Manners than of Lady Catherine. Somehow she cannot touch me anymore, her anger cannot harm me, her praise no longer makes me feel appreciated. She has shown me her real face and it is inhuman. I'm sorry to talk of your mother this way, but had she beaten me to within an inch of my life she could not have hurt me worse than she did. I do my work as a preacher, I visit the sick and help the poor, I even pay her my respects whenever I can spare the time from my dear Charlotte and little William, but Charlotte and I have agreed that if a modest situation can be found in exchange of this much better one, we will take it and do with less. You are the first people to hear this from either of us, in fact you are the only people we dare tell this, for if my intent were to become publicly known we would most certainly become destitute. Which proves my point: if I betray you, you now have the power to betray me.'

He can say all he likes, Elizabeth feels even more sorry for him but she still doesn't trust him at all. He is weaker than ever, Lady Catherine can make him do whatever she wants, nothing has changed. But they are not here to judge him or his patroness, they are here for Charlotte, and she will want to hear the news. Anne seems to feel the same, she accepts Mr Collins' assurances gracefully, but then changes the subject of the conversation to innocuous things like Charlotte's family, the village gossip, and how spring is starting to finally show itself.

Nick has arrived in the room by now and has seated himself where a place is set, he is still a bit shy to sit at the main table, even in a modest a household such as this. He doesn't say much but he relishes the food, and when Charlotte makes an excuse for forgetting to send help to carry the luggage he replies easily enough.

'Thank you, Mrs Collins, but it was no trouble, really. Your maid and your housekeeper appreciated my help so much, it was a true pleasure to be of assistance to them.'

Even Elizabeth now thinks he surely means to seduce one or both of them. They don't even want to see him in the servants' quarters anymore. Just incredible how charming this man can be, despite his London accent his manners are a lot less coarse than Fitzwilliam seemed to expect them, he eats neatly and without greediness, and he speaks exactly enough at exactly the right time. Anne is diverted by his act, they will have such fun together, all of them, Simon and Frederick, too. Too bad they're going to leave England eventually.

After lunch Mr Collins excuses himself to work in his garden and Charlotte smiles at him.

'Of course you have to go, Will, I suppose there are weeds springing up everywhere now spring has arrived. How are your seeds coming on?'

Her chubby cousin actually beams and replies, 'I planted them in the conservatory, it's tiny but it helps to get an early harvest. Nothing has sprouted, yet, but I expect to see the first shoots any day now. I love watching things grow. My garden is coming back to life.'

Charlotte looks at Elizabeth significantly and addresses her next, 'I bet you can't wait to explore, dear Eliza, you were always rambling when you visited us last year.'

'True, though I'd be tempted to go into the park where I know I won't be welcome.'

Now her cousin, already in the doorway, turns around and observes, 'In that case, my dear Charlotte, maybe you can show my cousin the way to the dell. It is surpassingly beautiful at this time of the year, with bluebells everywhere. And it's not Lady Catherine's. If you want me to mind little William while you take a long walk just make sure he is fed well. I'll take care of anything else he may need. Call me when you leave, you'll all be safe with Fowler along, this is not London after all.'

Is this the new Will? Offering to mind the baby while Charlotte entertains her guests? Elizabeth can hardly believe it, and Charlotte merely smiles triumphantly. She did write things had changed.

Anne feels no qualms to just go outside and stroll through the neighbourhood of her mother's estate. She doesn't fear to be recognised, she never went out much anyway, only to church and driving her little phaeton around the park, the local people hardly know her. Besides having changed so much that even Mrs Jenkinson might not know her again, Anne has learned much about human nature: people don't expect Miss de Bourgh to be walking about the village with Mrs Collins, and they won't see what they don't expect. Frederick was right, it is difficult to keep from judging people on their past actions and behaviour, which is why she will not trust Mr Collins when he says he won't tell mother about Anne's presence under his roof. Her mother will notice something is up, and she will wring the truth out of him. Again. They really need to do something about that, now she has discovered that Mr Collins is in fact a living, breathing human with feeling Anne feels sorry for him, to be trodden upon by a selfish overbearing woman like her mother. Hasn't she suffered enough herself from her mother's lack of compassion?

'I can handle anything your mother might throw at us, Anne, please don't worry,' Nick whispers, patting a bulge under his waistcoat to draw her attention to what has to be his slapjack, ready for use. He is not wearing a livery this time, it would only make their little group stand out in a sleepy village, but quite a handsome coat, very gentleman-like, expertly fitted if Anne is a judge of these things, and Nick looks incredibly handsome in it.

'I'm glad you still love me, Anne. But I don't think anyone else should find out. So you like my coat? Mr Blackwood made me choose one when we were shopping for dresses with the girls. He said, 'You're moving up in the world, Nick, and I'm glad you are, though we'll miss you. I want you to look fine even among all Mr Manners' and Mr Darcy's spoiled servants. Please accept it as a gift from me.'

Wasn't that sweet of him? I'll miss him, too.'

And he sounds like he means it, well, small wonder, the man treats him like a son.

'You look very fine in it, Nick, I'll try to hide my admiration better, thank you for the warning. And Nick, I'm not afraid. I know Mr Collins will tell my mother, he can't not tell her, there is no will left in him, pun intended. But I feel perfectly safe with you and Elizabeth by my side, and engaged to Frederick. I just felt sorry for Mr Collins, I never thought of his feelings until I discovered he actually had some. He must be terribly unhappy, I wish I could help.'

'Can't you find him a place in one of your husband's parishes, once you're married?'

'Maybe I can, but do I want to? I have no idea how these things work, and won't Frederick's tenants be angry if we saddle them with Mr Collins' preaching? He's pretty humourless, you know, I've been forced to hear him prattle on and on about sin and repentance often enough.'

Oh my, how can Anne keep from showing her infatuation if Nick looks her her like that, so cheeky and so naughty.

'But you didn't know a thing about sin, then, Anne. Maybe having something to repent will make his sermons more interesting, I will bet you all his parishioners have some colourful habits that Mr Collins would disapprove of, as much as his esteemed patroness. Too bad we'll be off again tomorrow or you could test his sermons again, and look at the gathering person by person and wonder what their sins are. You could do it, you know, not even your mother would recognise you, you have changed so much, have grown so beautiful and healthy.'

He really is invaluable, Anne cannot help herself, she has to laugh out loud at his irreverent remarks, and this is just the beginning, once Frederick has cured him of his diffidence Nick will be a match for Elizabeth, or maybe even for Mr Bennet.

'You are a delight, Nick, how can I refrain from watching you with adulation?'

Now he shows his own love clearly for a second, then blanks his expression to his 'I am at work' face and dryly observes, 'It's a trick, we'll practise it together, starting tonight.'

They have reached the dell Mr Collins was talking about and promptly fall silent, stunned by its beauty. The road on which they are rambling is sloping down gently and if Anne is not mistaken that is a gurgling brook she hears from the lowest point of the dell. The trees are a mixture of ancient oak and beech further from the path, and slim birches alongside it, new leaves still in the process of unfolding. On both sides, the space between the scattered trees is covered in grass with a blue sheen of all the bluebells blooming. A lot of light still falls through the trees above, Anne guesses it will be much darker here in summer, when the leaves catch most of the sunlight. It is a place of incredible beauty, and Charlotte turns around to see their reaction.

'Isn't it beautiful, Miss de Bourgh? Have you been here before? Have you, Elizabeth?'

Anne cannot remember ever having seen this beautiful little dell, and Elizabeth is quite certain, 'I never went this way, had I known it was so beautiful I would have gladly crossed the village on a daily basis.'

'But then my cousin would still be pining for you, I'm afraid,' Anne says, smiling.

Elizabeth laughs and observes, 'Do you think he wouldn't have followed me here? He was quite persistent. I do want to sneak into your mother's park for an hour or so, to see all those places again where he dogged my steps. I thought I'd told him off, and he thought I was flirting.'

'You were not flirting, Elizabeth. I saw the two of you together, and you were polite but did not encourage him in any way.'

'Poor Fitzwilliam, how he must have suffered. I was really nasty to him, you know.'

'But only after he had insulted you. He told me all about it, Elizabeth, you won't fool me into believing you were both at fault. You taught him manners and were rewarded with undying love.'

Anne is quite pleased with her own eloquence and Nick is very curious. He hasn't heard the story of Mr Darcy and Miss Elizabeth Bennet yet, he's in for a romantic treat. Maybe tonight, or maybe Elizabeth will tell him herself.

'All right, you win, Anne. I could not have known he was in love with me, and he was never very kind to me before or during that proposal. Or even right after. But my behaviour was also far from correct, I allowed myself to dislike him more than he deserved, and never gave him a chance to prove himself.'

Charlotte is nodding, she saw it before Elizabeth did, but even to her Darcy's love had not been altogether undisguised. And now she has seen something else.

'Miss de Bourgh, I don't think anyone out here will recognise you, you have changed so much, have grown so beautiful and healthy. But should anyone know that you are Miss de Bourgh, they will think that Fowler is actually Mr Manners, your fiancée. Yesterday in his livery he was obviously your servant, but today, in his beautiful coat, he could be a gentleman, he even looks like Mr Manners if one has only read his description in the newspapers.'

It's true, and Elizabeth confirms it.

'You are right, Charlotte, Fowler does look a little like Mr Manners. Did he give you a gentleman's coat, Fowler, so you'd look like him? To make Miss de Bourgh feel safe?'

Nick bows to Mrs Darcy, he is not that much in awe of her anymore, this is for Mrs Collins' benefit.

'No, ma'am, Mr Blackwood gave me the coat, he has an exaggerated view of rich gentlemen's servants. He thinks they are a mere step removed from gentlemen themselves and wanted me to be able to fit in. Personally, I haven't seen any difference between the staff of a great house and that of a minor house. Except maybe that yours talks less, but I guess that may be different at Rosings. Still, I must admit the thought crossed my mind that if I wore this coat here people might leave you ladies alone thinking you were accompanied by a gentleman.'

Well, that is easy enough to find out, on their way back Anne will keep an eye on the people they meet in the streets.

'Let's test Charlotte's theory and have tea in the inn at Hunsford,' Elizabeth exclaims, 'I feel like doing something foolish, I'll treat you all to pie. What do you say?'

They all agree, even Nick is not hesitant all at.

'No-one will recognise you, Miss de Bourgh,' he offers, 'and I love pie.'

Darcy is less upset than Frederick had expected him to be with his adored little wife away from home for two whole days. Of course they have had an enervating day so far, with the visit to the lawyer's idiot palace, a stop at Darcy's banker on their way back to put Simon's independence in a vault, and the young couple's invitation to play for the Prince of Wales. Imagine Eric daring to refuse such an honour, Frederick thought he'd die of fright for the still-naïve genius. One simply does not refuse an invitation from the heir to the throne, no matter how many ordinary mortals one must disappoint. Fortunately it ended well, but it does show how much Eric still has to learn. Oh well, it would have been a nuisance to re-schedule two hundred paying visitors, much more so than sweating it out for a few hours, for Darcy and himself, since Eric and Georgiana as yet don't understand the danger they were in, the power their sovereign wields. Well, his heir, but that doesn't make much difference, he'll be in power soon enough with the King's episodes worsening. Better explain tonight, after the show. To make sure they'll show proper respect while visiting. Maybe they should take lessons from Mr Collins.

And now they are all on their way to yet another concert, one of the last this season though several venues have tried to book in spring and even in summer. But Eric is tired and the young couple needs their time together, they think the adulation will stop now that Eric is married, but Frederick supposes they will be disappointed. Those admirers don't really think they are going to win Eric, they just want a piece of him, and they are going to keep trying to get it. But first they will all retreat to Darcy's estate for a few months, and ride and shoot and in Eric's case, rest. And then they will see whether the situation in Europe is safe enough for their grand tour, with Vienna as final destination.

As Georgiana and Eric leave the carriage and walk to tonight's venue, a reporter tries to intercept them with several rather impertinent questions.

'Mr Fielding, I saw a royal page leave Mr Darcy's home just this afternoon, have you been invited to play for the Prince of Wales? And Mrs Fielding, you must be so very happy to be married to the man every girl your age wants desperately. So how was it? We know he is very good with his hands...'

The insolence! And they must have someone watching the house, but why? Shouldn't Eric be old news by now? He certainly thinks so but he knows his income depends on exposure to the press so he answers reluctantly, 'I have, yes. And of course Mrs Fielding and I will do our very best to make a good impression on His Highness.'

But Georgiana actually laughs at the reporter and states boldly, 'You may tell your readers that a pianist's sensitivity and determination are not restricted to his art.'

Of course the middle-aged reporter is tickled, but he is not done, it appears Frederick himself is no less an interesting subject to the man.

'Mr Manners, congratulations on your engagement! And your fiancée going off on a long journey straight away, and into danger! Is she going to retrieve the family jewels from her mother's safe?'

He says this with humour, but Frederick is quite put out that the man has managed to ferret this out from just watching the party leave. But of course it won't do at all to get angry or deny anything, Georgiana's attitude is the best.

'Thank you, my man! Mr Darcy and myself are not worried about our ladies making a little trip to see a friend.'

'But with a bodyguard, sir, it must be a dangerous trip. Rumour has it Lady Catherine de Bourgh tried to kidnap her daughter before.'

That is uncomfortably close to the truth, but Frederick is not going to let a reporter get the better of him, he let out the information about the kidnapping himself but never thought anyone would remember.

'Ladies like Mrs Darcy and the future Mrs Manners like to travel suitably attended, you know that.'

'Mr Manners, people say you are friends with the King, won't he take exception to Mr Fielding playing for his spendthrift son?'

This is a smart fellow, but he is not going to get a clear answer from Frederick. Of course he is welcome to try, but that is Frederick's favourite game, and one he is very good at.

'I don't think it's my place to judge the Prince of Wales, do you? Now we need to run or Mr Fielding will be late for his last public performance but one. Good bye!'

The others are already inside the carriage, and as soon as Frederick closes the door, Bates sets off.

Darcy shakes his handsome head and observes, 'I'm happy for you, Fielding, that you have met with so much success. But I admit I'll be glad to be back to anonimity the day after tomorrow. Do you really think the King will be put out with Fielding if he plays for the Prince George, Manners?'

Well, that is easy enough.

'I don't think the King knows who Mr Eric Fielding is, what he does for a living, and that he has been invited to play for his son and heir. So no, I don't think he will be angry about something he doesn't know about. I've always thought kings have more important things to do but I wouldn't know, I'm not friends with the King, it just suits me to never deny the rumours that I am.'

'I'll take your word for it. I just wish they didn't ask Georgie such questions. I don't blame you for answering like you did, Georgie, please do not mistake me. You're much better at this then I'd ever dared hope.'

Dear Georgiana moves from her husband's side to sit next to her brother and puts an arm around him.

'She'll be back tomorrow, Fitzwilliam. And on Monday you can leave all of this behind you, Eric and I are married, next season we'll have Frederick and Anne to protects us from the reporters, and Mr Fowler to protect us from the crowds, we'll be fine. I don't really mind anymore now we're married. The reporters don't bother me and the adulation will stop now Eric is irrevocably mine. And besides, maybe Eric will be back to anonymity next season, for everyone, not just the King. Or we may be on the continent.'

But when they reach the venue, Georgiana has to acknowledge that Frederick was right, Eric being married doesn't matter a bit to his fans, there is a crowd waiting for him when they arrive and they do not hesitate to try to address him or try to touch him. And these are ladies of some quality, not shameless women of low breeding.

Darcy has the lead, people make way for him even faster than for Frederick himself, and the new couple follows on his heels, Frederick closing off their rear. He can see them gradually losing their endearing intimacy under the barrage of adulation towards Eric, that is not how they should remember their last concerts. This may indeed be how far Fielding's fame will reach, he has potential to grow further but the public decides. To merely suffer his fame for the last few days is not how it should be, Frederick feels Eric should relish it as long as he can and therefore he intercedes. Looking at the adulating women he can easily spy out several of Miss Filliger's creations, and he pulls some of the attention towards himself.

'Miss Eliot, Miss Paget, you are looking more than fine today! Such beautiful dresses all around me!'

Darcy walks on, Eric and Georgiana right behind him, as most of the women, young and not so young, shift their interest to society's favourite, now engaged but unattended by his beautiful fiancée.

'Thank you for your compliment, Mr Manners,' the bravest of the two replies, 'you don't look half bad yourself.'

'Thank you, Miss Paget, you're so kind to flatter a plain fellow, I have recently hired a new valet, do you think the difference shows?'

'Maybe you're just happy because of your engagement to Miss de Bourgh,' an older woman comments, 'you do look radiant.'

'Mr Manners, the paper said Mrs Darcy's dresses were just lucky coïncidence, but we all went to Miss Filliger's shop together and I didn't see even one dress I didn't like.'

That is one of the young girls in a typical Miss Filliger creation, Frederick doesn't know her, maybe it is time to introduce himself. But can he and not appear rude? She has bought a ready-made dress in Cheapside, but something in her bearing tells him she is not of the Misses Blackwood's caliber. Better be on the safe side and wait for her initiative.

'I'm glad you agree with our ladies instead of with some reporter, Miss, for let's be honest, what does a man know of fashion? Mme Beaution loves Miss Filliger's art.'

The young lady is pleased, and soon proves Frederick right by observing, 'You're every bit as charming as my little brother said, Mr Manners. We've recently moved to town because father wanted him to be a page to the Prince of Wales and he said you'd met at Mr Darcy's house. I can tell you I wasn't pleased, I'd wanted to become one of the Queen's girls myself but I guess there is little chance of that with my brother living at Carlton House, and of course my parents won't let me serve there.'

That is very understandable, the crown prince reputedly has his catholic mistress living there, no sensible parent would want their genteel daughter serving such a woman, no matter how kind and talented. For of course the Prince has an excellent taste in women, Darcy would do well to keep Elizabeth far away from him, despite her obvious youth and his preference for older women. Frederick merely nods to show the girl he understands, though he wonders why her parents would want their boy to serve with a man like the Prince. He could hardly be a good example for an impressionable child, and that page still had a lot to learn.

'I'm so pleased to meet you, Mr Manners, and to finally get to hear Mr Fielding play, we live in the north you see, and papa never wanted a London house. My name is Miss Helena Cavendish, you met my little brother Thomas just yesterday. He says Mr Fielding refused to cancel a show to play for the Prince, I admire him so much and all my friends do, too. I wish I could have met him when he was still free, though I suppose his marrying Miss Darcy was preordained since they both play so well.'

A Cavendish no less, no wonder the little boy was so cocksure. Better tread lightly. Frederick takes her offered hand and kisses it with all the flair he can muster, then says calmly, 'Miss Cavendish, I'm honoured to meet you. Your brother handled that situation very well, but it may be best if knowledge of it stays in a select group of people. Princes generally don't take well to commoners refusing such an honour. Mr Fielding is certainly worthy of admiration, and if you want to I'll introduce you to him after the show.'

'Oh, yes, please, I'd love that! Can my friends come, too? I haven't known them for very long, but they have included me in every outing, I'm very thankful to them for making me feel at home. Things are different up north, you know.'

He does know, and he is reminded of Anne and the Blackwood girls.

'Of course they can come, just find me after the show and I'll lead you to him. Enjoy the show!'

And with that he walks on, the crowd has scattered after Eric had passed, the others will be safe and sound behind the stage, Eric will have an hour to prepare himself and the instrument, while those girls wait in the public part of the hall, drinking tea and chatting about their favourite.


	118. Chapter 118

Chapter 128

Right after dinner, Mr Collins leaves the table and excuses himself to the ladies and Nick.

'With Charlotte in such excellent company I cannot but visit Lady Catherine tonight, she has been asking me to come by and play cards with her, she is lonely and I try to indulge her as much as possible. I wish all of you a good evening, I expect to be home by ten. Please let Charlotte pour you some brandy, Mr Fowler, I'm sorry I cannot join you.'

And with that he leaves the room, supposedly to dress for a formal visit, this family does not dress for dinner at home and Nick guesses even Mr Collins will not visit Rosings in a coat he has been wearing whilst working in his garden. Anne and Mrs Darcy did not seem to mind at all not to dress for dinner, they probably relish the informality of the country. Well, Nick has to change, too, before he leaves for his excursion with Dora, he is pleased to hear Mr Collins will be at the house to distract Lady Catherine from what is happening on the floor where the bedrooms are situated.

'I have my own appointment to keep, ladies,' he observes, and bows to all three of them. Better make sure he doesn't run into Mr Collins on the way.

'Good luck, Nick,' Anne says quietly. Nick can hear apprehension in her voice, but it's not necessary, Nick will be fine.

'Good hunting, Nick,' Mrs Darcy says with a laugh, 'will you be able to find it in the dark?'

'No problem, ma'am, Miss de Bourgh pointed out the gate this afternoon when we returned from our walk, and I have excellent vision, even in the dark. Thank you ladies, I suppose I will be back at least an hour before Mr Collins returns.'

He makes straight for his room, indeed next to Anne's, he can hardly wait until the house is quiet so he can crawl in with her. Fortunately, he had already packed his bag for the trip, Mr Blackwood had it sent over to Mr Darcy's place with everything in it, including his precautions. They will thoroughly enjoy their night together, and soon they will be sharing a bed every night.

His livery is still very easy to put on, the coat he hangs out neatly to keep it from wrinkling. Within moments he is ready to go out, until he hears someone stirring in the hallway downstairs. He walks on but really quietly, and as he prepares to descend the stairs, a voice sounds from where he heard the noise.

'If you don't want to go, please stay in, Will. I know how much you hate it, and if she dismisses you so be it, my parents will take care of us, really. You can help papa in the business until another living turns up. If only you hadn't been so foolish to set Mr Darcy against you, Will, you know he could have found you another position easily.'

It's Mrs Collins, and she is talking to her poor husband.

'I know Charlotte, and I'm so very sorry to have been so incredibly stupid, but that can't be helped now, can it? I thought I did the right thing, to stick to my loyalties, and she didn't even care.'

He sounds like a normal man, what kind of idiot act is he putting up before Mrs Darcy and Anne? Or is he really unable to be himself in front of people he considers above him? Nick has never regretted his own descent, he's not proud of his accent but not ashamed either. He is what he is, and that attitude has generally paid off, people generally like him. Except Wellesley.

'I don't even mind suffering for my stupidity, Charlotte, but to see you and William reduced to living off your father's charity, it's too much, I can handle a little adversity. Can I have one more kiss?'

That last plea doesn't sound like someone who can handle anything, frankly. And soon Nick's feeling is proven right.

'Oh, Charlotte, I can't do it, I'm such a coward to fear an old woman. She will know instantly something is going on here, someone will have seen Miss de Bourgh, or have recognised Mr Darcy's horses and driver. She'll wring it out of me and send someone to fetch Miss de Bourgh home and they'll all blame me! But I have to go, or we'll lose everything we have built up together!'

Dammit, the fellow is a wreck! Doesn't he have any dignity? Apparently not, or he would just take it like a man. Nick can hardly restrain himself from giving the gibbering idiot a piece of his mind. He sits on top of the stairs to peek, and he can see Mrs Collins taking him in her arms, she seems to actually feel sorry for him, whatever moved her to marry this man-shaped piece of butter?

'There now, Will, I'm sure there is nothing to worry about. I'm sure no-one knows Miss de Bourgh is here and even if they do, you know Lady Catherine doesn't expect her to be here and she never talks to servants. Just you think of Lady Catherine as a lonely old lady, she is lonely, you are the only one who still goes to see her. Mrs Jenkinson wouldn't even take money to live with her. You just play cards, drink some hot chocolate, you know you like hot chocolate very much, and then you come home to me and to little William and I'll make it up to you. You can sleep with us tonight, would you like that?'

'May I? Really? Then I can handle anything. I'd better go then, to have it over with. Thank you, dear Charlotte, you're so good to me.'

Poor fellow, to have no spine at all, what makes a man behave like that? Nick would turn to armed robbery before demeaning himself to a rich old lady and, let's be honest, to his wife as well. Allowed to share her bed for a night. Well, better her than him, chubby unattractive fellow, he can understand why his wife prefers to have him far away from her at night.

When the door closes behind Mr Collins his wife returns to their main room for a night of chat with two ladies, she will love the presents they bought her. Nick counts to fifty, then follows the clergyman in his tracks. Well, follows, that turns out to be a lot harder than he thought, it is incredibly dark outside, of course Nick is a city boy and there is always some source of light in the city. But there isn't out here, everything is quiet and pitch dark, and for a moment Nick feels a little out of sorts. But if Mr Collins dares to step outside, Nick cannot shame himself by asking for a lamp.

And his eyes soon get used to the dark, once on the path towards Rosings the trees are spread further, allowing a little more moonlight to reach Nick's eyes, and he finds the right gate without much trouble. Dora is already there, waiting. She embraces and kisses him, barely decently he may add, better have that talk with her again, about colleagues and affairs. They will be part of the same household pretty soon, within weeks if Anne has the rights of it and the wedding will take place in Derbyshire. But for now, Dora is excellent company, she has obviously had a perfect day and is looking forward to seeing her former colleagues again. But that is not the first thing she says.

'Are you guys idiots to go out into the village and drink tea in the Hunsford Arms? Couldn't you have brought a herald to announce Miss de Bourgh to the entire county? I would have expected more sense from someone hired as Miss Anne's guard.'

So someone did recognise Anne.

'Is it still safe to leave her for an hour? I really didn't think anyone would recognise her, she has changed so much.'

'It was a maid who'd known her from a child, Nick. Of course she'd recognise her. But don't worry, no-one will tell on Miss Anne, they were happy to see her healthy and happy, they've all felt sorry for her for years, and no-one likes Lady Catherine anyway except Mr Collins.'

She should have heard him just now, poor man.

'And you, pretending to be Mr Manners in a gentleman's coat. I've heard three versions of your visit already, in the first you are here to denounce your mother-in-law and take possession of Rosings, in the second you are to challenge the doctor to defend Lady de Bourgh's honour and in the third you are set to beg forgiveness for your bride-to-be running away from home. No-one really believes the last. Or the other two, frankly they have no clue what you are doing here. Maybe you should have worn your coat instead of your livery. I know how to tie a cravat properly, Fanny taught me. You could pretend to be Mr Manners to the staff and have a good laugh. All right, let's go in.'

'Wait, Dora. Did you have a good time with your family?'

'Yes, I had. I should have sent them a letter to know how I was doing, though. They had been worried.'

'Why didn't you then? It's not that much of an effort, is it?'

Now Dora takes hold of his arm, he cannot see her expression because she avoids his gaze, but she is affected.

'Because I can't write, Nick. I can't even read very well, and I was too ashamed to ask for help. But now I will, my mum was so relieved to see me, she had worried so much, and no news was to be had from the Rosings staff, they knew nothing either, just what the paper said. Everyone thought Miss Anne had fled or been rescued, they really thought she was a captive at Rosings, thus the denouncing and taking vengeance stories. Will you help me write to my family, Nick? Since we're going to be of the same household sooner or later?'

'Dear Dora, you don't have to be ashamed of your upbringing. And I'll do better than writing your letters for you, I'll help you to learn to write yourself, there'll be plenty of time for lessons at Pemberley. I suppose we'll be bored stiff there.'

'Maybe you can teach the gentlemen how to fight dirty. It might come in handy if you all go abroad, I suppose you cannot trust those foreigners at all. It was lovely, Nick, to be back home. But I'm used to the city now, I don't want to go back to Kent, not even if Miss Anne goes abroad.'

Poor Dora feels left out, everyone planning to see the world and she doesn't even know whether she will have a position after her mistress gets married, better talk to Anne about that.

But first they pass through the gate, across a pitch-dark path that sounds like gravel, towards the enormous house. It's easy to find because there is light behind a lot of the windows, so many rooms and so many servants for just one elderly lady!

'This is a beautiful path, Nick, I wish you could see it by day. Here we are, the back entrance. Now you wait and see how we'll be received here, everyone will want to know what happened in London.'

Well, that is something Nick can imagine, especially if Anne has been recognised in Hunsford despite having changed so much. Fearlessly opening a door at the back of the huge building, Dora enters and is immediately hailed in a happy male voice.

'Dora! We were hoping you'd drop by, so good to see you!'

A tall, broad man in his late forties wearing a livery in what must be Lady Catherine's colours takes Dora in a loving bear hug.

'You left so suddenly, your parents were distraught, all the news we got was from the newspapers and they only mentioned Miss de Bourgh. You know everyone will want to hear what is true and what is not, don't you?'

Before Dora can say anything, the man looks at Nick in surprise and blurts out, 'You cannot be Mr Manners! You're wearing a livery!'

Dora is obviously very much at home here, she laughs merrily and addresses the older man.

'No, Hughes, he isn't Mr Manners. Please meet Fowler, Miss de Bourgh's brand-new guard, who actually looks a lot like Mr Manners himself and is in his service to protect his hard-won fiancée.'

'So it is true then, Miss de Bourgh is engaged to this fellow? Is he any good, Dora? Or is he merely marrying into a quick inheritance?'

'Calm down, Hughes, calm down. I'll tell you straight away that Miss Anne is much better, perfectly healthy, actually. No-one will gain easy money from her, believe me. And yes, I believe Mr Manners is a man of honour and very kind, though I don't know him all that well. Fowler is much closer to him.'

They cannot stay and chat with everyone they meet in this huge house, there must be at least two dozen people caring for one crabby old woman. But since this is the first person they meet and he is taller than Nick and someone of rank if Nick has any insight in liveries and demeanour, he'll try to settle this man's worries.

'Dora is right, Mr Manners is an honourable man who will treat Miss de Bourgh well. She does not plan to return to the country, she enjoys city life more than anything and Mr Manners is a big name in London society. They'll have the best time together, believe me, Miss de Bourgh could have had her pick of the gentlemen, she chose with her mind, not her heart.'

For that is Nick's, seeing all this he is more proud than ever of having caught her attention and won her love.

'We want to tell you all about Miss de Bourgh, Hughes, but we have an errand from her as well: she wants Fowler to retrieve some things she is attached to, keepsakes her father gave her. She will not return to Rosings, she found out about the doctor and no longer acknowledges Lady Catherine as her mother. Can we fetch the items first, then join you in the back and tell everyone at once? I've heard outrageous tales about her, she'll be pleased to have them set to rights.'

The tall man bows to Dora and observes, 'You've grown Dora, I remember a shy young girl, but you're clearly a self-assured woman now, town has done you good. We'll do as you suggest, the mistress is engaged with Mr Collins at the moment, she will not stir for at least an hour, most likely two. She has few visitors left, Dora, and yet she still doesn't acknowledge us as people. But we can talk about that later. First you retrieve Miss de Bourgh's things. I wish we could see her, we've been worried for so long, not just when she disappeared with her uncle. You remember where to go, do you want a lamp?'

'Yes, please, Hughes, thank you, it will make finding things easier. You'll be pleased to hear what happened, truly, there was nothing really wrong with her all this time.'

They are following the liveried servant, Nick wonders what his rank is, he looks so confident. Soon he enters a room, to return with a lamp already giving off a nice bundle of light. He hands it to Dora, not to Nick, good, he respects her despite her being a girl and rather young.

'See you soon, Dora, we can't wait to hear everything.'

This will not be a quick excursion after all, but Nick admits they have a right to know what happened to their mistress.

The house seems endless, they cross room after room after room, is there no hall connecting all the rooms so they won't have to go out in the open?

'What if you have to cross a room with Lady Catherine in it?'

'There is a hall in the back of the house that goes from one side to the other, but I wanted to see these rooms again, it may be my last chance. We'll take the other route on our way back. Besides, Lady Catherine is in a totally different part of the house, the main rooms are on the first floor. Don't worry, I've done this before, we will not be caught.'

Looking about him, Nick can see these are most likely bedrooms, opulent ones but so tidy they cannot be in use. After a while he loses count and just follows Dora, who seems to be almost in a dreamlike state, undoubtedly remembering the time when she was still much younger and hard at work to clean these rooms or make fires for highborn guests.

One more door and they enter a chamber with a different atmosphere, this must be Anne's former room, it's a girl's room as far as Nick can tell by the light of the lamp, and it looks lived in, though Anne hasn't been here for almost three months. The staff have not put it to rights, yet, maybe they still hoped she'd return.

Nick cannot help being affected, this is where Anne spent ten hopeless years, bled white and listless, fearing death yet longing for release from her endless ordeal. The place doesn't smell like a sick-room, of course Anne wasn't actively sick, she just had no energy to actually live.

'My room was right here, Nick.'

Dora walks on, her voice affected, she feels it, too, worse probably since she actually saw Anne in her despondent state. Nick follows the little maid to an adjacent chamber, not bare but not exactly inviting either, Dora cannot have led a good life here.

'I only slept here, by day I was supposed to be in the back of the house and Mrs Jenkinson attended to Miss Anne. We never talked, I suppose I must have been like a prison warden for her, keeping an eye on her all the time, even at night. She said I couldn't have helped her but I still feel so guilty for not telling her about the bloodlettings, what the other maids said about it.'

Poor Dora, she probably didn't realise there were bad memories attached to the house as well as good ones. Despite his misgivings he cannot but give her some support, Dora is like a sister to him and she needs a hug right now, though Nick knows she does not see him as a brother and may fall in love with him at any moment. He holds her and lets her cry on his livery, then observes, 'If Miss Anne says she doesn't reproach you and wouldn't have believed you, she is not trying to spare you, Dora. When I met her at the Blackwoods' for the first time she was outraged I dared to ask her how she was, she did not want to be addressed by a servant. She was different then, truly. She is happy now, and she will make sure you will have a good position, even if she does go abroad eventually. Please believe me, she will not let you down.

Is there anything you want to take with you? Then take it, and let's go, this place depresses me, how unhappy poor Miss Anne must have been here, with no-one to talk to and nothing to do.'

'You love her, don't you, Nick?'

There is nothing Nick can say, she was bound to find out sooner or later, they have not been careless.

'I can hear it in your voice when you talk of her, or to her. I'm sorry for you, Nick, I hope you're not too unhappy about it. But should you be working for her husband, isn't that too painful? Shouldn't you just move on instead of trying to be close to someone you'll never be allowed to love?'

Still Nick can think of nothing to say, if Dora doesn't know about Anne and him he cannot tell her, not without Anne's and Frederick's permission. But he won't deny his love for Anne either, it would be a damned lie and Dora deserves better. Let her think he loves hopelessly, it may keep her off his back. Or it may cause her to try and comfort him by coming on to him, she knows his reputation.

'I'm not unhappy with the way things are right now, Dora. And Mr Manners doesn't worry about Miss Anne and myself doing things together that he doesn't approve of.'

'So he knows and he trusts you. And her. Well, it's none of my business anyway.'

Oh yes, Mr Manners trusts Anne and himself to do all kinds of things, including giving him an heir. Today has proven his theory at least, that Nick's children will pass easily for Frederick's. Frederick. Such a strange thought, that Nick will be inextricably linked to him and Simon for as long as he loves Anne. But Dora is waiting, they have a job to do.

'Thank you for your understanding, Dora. I am not to be pitied, really. Let's retrieve Miss Anne's keepsakes and get out of this room, it's depressing. I'm glad she'll never have to see it again, I was close to tears myself for a few moments, imagining her life here.'

Dora is all business again and quickly rummages in several drawers, even a secret one that she unlocks with a hidden lever. They carefully stow every item in a satchel Dora has taken from under the bed, she must have known it was there.

'Miss Anne told me about the secret drawer, Nick, I did not know it was there or how to operate it.'

Good of her to tell him, he did wonder. He feels a bit shut out Anne didn't tell him instead until he realises that would have given away their involvement.

'Can you carry this lamp? It's too fragile to put in the satchel and it's quite heavy. She said to leave it because of that but I know she wants it, her father gave her that and she loved him so. Hughes' help means we can take whatever we want without being bothered, you might call him Lady Catherine's head of security. He does not answer to the housekeeper but only to the steward. If she'd sent him to retrieve Anne you would have had less success defending her, but of course she wouldn't have asked him to kidnap someone, he'd never stoop so low. He has a daughter Miss Anne's age and felt as sorry and as guilty as the rest of us.'

Nick still thinks he can take the fellow, especially with his slapjack hidden beneath his livery. But of course it's not an issue, they will be allowed to take whatever Anne wants, and Nick needs to stop wanting to prove himself to men taller than himself. He has everything he ever dreamed of, an easy job and plenty of freedom. And something much better, something he never expected or even wanted to have: a woman who loves him exclusively, and whom he loves more than anything or anyone in the world.

Already in the doorway, Dora hesitates, runs back in and puts one more item in her satchel.

'I think I do want to take this and Miss Anne won't mind my taking it, she doesn't need it anymore. We're set, let's take the servants' hallway back to the common-room. Though we don't call it the common-room, we call it the drawing-room, you'll see why.'

Sadness forgotten, Dora is obviously looking forward to meeting all her friends and telling them how well Miss Anne is doing.

The hall behind the rooms is very convenient, but it makes the separation between staff and family painfully absolute, no chance to run into a servant accidentally. The atmosphere in the back of the house is totally different, there are lights everywhere, making the whole a lot more welcoming. Dora leads Nick through a very nondescript door, as if they're accessing a store room and for one moment Nick thinks they have, since they find themselves in a tiny room with shelves. Then she opens another door and laughs, 'Welcome to the real drawing-room at Rosings, Nick!' letting him go in before her.

Nick is totally speechless, a state he rarely finds himself in as former street kid from London. This is not what one expects from a servants' common-room, this is a true drawing-room, like Mr Blackwood has, or even more like Mr Darcy's in town, as rich, but even larger. Princeless furniture and velvet hangings, rugs on the floor, and even a piano-forte.

'We took that from Mrs Jenkinson's room, she didn't need it anymore.'

Though Nick doesn't have a clue what that means, Mrs Jenkinson was Anne's lady companion, why did she have a piano in her room?, Dora knows, and she practically jumps the person speaking, a tow-haired boy of about eighteen.

'Frank! I've missed you!' she exclaims, and Frank looks at her strangely, poor fellow, he must have been crushed when she just disappeared without a word or a goodbye.

'Dora, why didn't you send word? Your parents have been so worried, and all of us barely less so!'

Maybe he is a little older than eighteen, he sounds very sensible. Too bad for him that Dora wants to go back to town.

They are invited to sit down, and Nick is introduced to at least a dozen people, maids, a butler, cook's helpers, a gardener or two, and a sedate older man who apparently is the steward. No wonder Simon said the servants at Rosing had a better time than its mistress and her relatives! This man is responsible for Lady Catherine's finances and he is enjoying this undoubtedly secret room right with the rest of them.

On closer inspection the furniture is still of a superb quality, but rather out of date and slightly worn, it must be the stuff that most families store in their attic, like Mrs Fielding's boudoir only less tastefully decorated. This is what Lady Catherine's house looked like a decade ago, the staff just took the old furnishings and put them in here. Frankly, it looks much like Earl Compton's town house scaled up to country size. People are chatting, playing cards, someone is playing the piano, just like a noble family would after dinner. Nick can hardly believe it, how do they keep this a secret? Even Mr Blackwood would soon find out if they were hiding a room like this in his house. Of course his house is a lot smaller, and he does his own finances.

For Nick can even see the usual treats being served, coffee, hot chocolate, with pastries and pieces of pie. Anne doesn't know about this, and neither do Mr Darcy or Colonel Compton and his father the Earl. Incredible, the nerve of these people!

'I admire all of you,' he says to those closing in on the pair of them. Of course they want to know what is going on with Miss de Bourgh and Dora and the reports of Mr Manners being at Hunsford. They laugh at his remark, there is no reservation towards him, he is Dora's friend and therefore accepted in their midst.

'How do you know what is going on outside this room?'

Hughes answers readily, 'We all take turns manning the real common-room, a rather bare place close to the kitchen. It's where we receive new staff and staff of casual visitors. Most regular visitors bring the same staff each time, and they are welcomed. Do you know Mr Darcy?'

'I do, yes, I've stayed in his town-house, in the back.' And in Anne's bedroom, but they shouldn't know that.

'Well, his valet Simon is always very welcome here, he is the best company, though he refuses to tell us anything about his family. We respect that, especially since all the girls are out of their minds about him. But if you been to the Darcy's town house you should know him.'

'Pretty well, actually, yes. And yet he never told me about this place. He knows our mission here, he must be laughing his ears off right now. He did tell me Rosings was more fun in the back. Incredible.'

'Enough talk, Hughes, we want to know about Miss de Bourgh, and Mr Manners and everything. Come on, Dora, tell us what happened after you left.'

Frank likes a good story, that much is clear, or maybe he just likes to hear Dora talk. She sits back on a luxurious sofa, the others gathering around her, listening expectantly, then starts to tell her tale.

'Miss de Bourgh ordered me to pack for three weeks and make it really fast, we were leaving with her uncle Earl Compton within the hour. So I did, and packed my own bags for the same period of time, I didn't get the time to take leave from anyone, before we knew it we were in a carriage with Miss de Bourgh, the Earl, Mrs Jenkinson and myself. We dropped off Mrs Jenkinson at her place, she didn't know anything either. I suppose Miss de Bourgh wrote to her when she decided to stay in London.'

At this preview of things to come, her audience makes appropriate sounds of surprise and approval. Dora merely continues with their stay at Earl Compton's house, their visits to Mr Darcy's house and the week or so at the Blackwood house. She tells only the most important things, how Miss Anne improved in health, bought new dresses and enjoyed society and especially the company of Mr Manners. Nick cannot catch her at revealing even one indiscretion, Dora is truly a very worthy maid for Anne. Then Hughes asks, 'Do you know what was wrong with Miss Anne, Dora? She truly seemed worse every year, and now you say she is completely recovered and Madge, who saw her at the Hunsford Arms, said she had gained as much as ten pounds, and was blooming. How can that be in a few months? She was so weak and sickly she could hardly stand.'

Now Dora looks at Nick, she is in doubt how much to tell them and besides, she doesn't know as much as he does.

'Will you tell them, Fowler? I think you know more about what the doctor said.'

He nods and starts to speak, 'Mr Manners' doctor said she did not have a weak constitution but a very strong one or she would have died years ago: the constant bloodlettings took as much as a quarter of her total amount of blood each month, some people would not have survived losing so much blood regularly. Still the loss made her weak and unable to eat. Keeping her blood where it was needed, and eating restorative foods the London doctor proscribed her she strengthened quickly and got a good deal fatter within weeks. Exercising and eating regular meals, as well as making fun with her new friends and having a future to look forward to gave her bloom. She is stunningly beautiful now. Did you read about Miss Darcy, now Mrs Fielding's, wedding? And the French couture that turned out to be from Cheapside?'

The others nod, they read that or heard about it.

'Well, Miss de Bourgh bought some of those dresses and they make her look like a princess. And now she has conquered her prince, who will bring her into society and let her enjoy herself as much as she likes. She need never sit at home again if she doesn't want to, that is why she agreed to marry Mr Manners. I like him a lot, he is my employer now to guard Miss de Bourgh from any harm.'

At that very moment someone storms into the drawing-room and calls out to Hughes, 'The mistress has had a big row with Mr Collins and wants you immediately, Hughes. It has to do with Miss de Bourgh.'

Nick jumps up, ready for action, and addresses Hughes frankly.

'If your mistress has found out Miss Anne is at Hunsford Parsonage and she wants you to kidnap her, you will find me on your path. I will not let harm come to my charge. I like you, Hughes, but I warn you, I am a lot more dangerous than I look.'

The tall but older man makes a conciliating gesture and says calmly, 'You look dangerous enough right now, Fowler, please stay calm, I have known Miss Anne since she was a little girl and I am not going to harm her. You have told me what every one of us knew in our hearts and felt guilty about. We should have done something to help her, all these years she spent in misery and depression and we could have stopped it. We knew that doctor was a quack, we knew what he was actually coming for.

You go to Miss Anne right now, we'll have her things delivered tomorrow, leave them here with Dora and I'll go to my mistress and try to talk some sense into her. I'm not going to incur the wrath of Mr Manners by trying to steal away his fiancée, and I know Earl Compton will not let her be harmed either. No need to fight, Fowler, I promise.'

And he holds out his hand with an earnest face. Nick takes it, this man can be trusted, and if he breaks his word Nick can beat the stuffing out of him after all. Then he asks Dora, 'Will you show me the way out? I won't be of any help if I walk myself lost.'

Frank now offers, 'You stay, Dora, and talk to the others until I return. I'll show Fowler the shortest way back to the parsonage. Don't go, Dora, don't leave so suddenly yet again!'

And he means it, if she leaves him again without a word she will break his heart.

'I won't, Frank. Good luck, Fowler, Miss de Bourgh is not in danger, don't feel bad, she's with Mrs Darcy, remember, I've heard she can handle Lady Catherine very well.'

That is right, Mrs Darcy is there, and Anne will not let some servant of her mother's take her. Still, Nick should have been with Anne instead of telling stories to her mother's servants. Frank motions him to follow, and there is nothing else Nick can do, he has no clue how to get back to the parsonage on his own. At least the fellow seems to realise the importance of speed, for he walks so fast Nick has to run to keep up, and before he knows it they are back outside the great house in the pitch-dark, gravel crunching under his boots once more.


	119. Chapter 119

Chapter 129

Anne is enjoying herself hugely at the little parsonage. She has held baby William for half an hour, amazed how such an unattractive father and plain mother can get such a beautiful little boy. Of course there is no way to know how he'll grown up. Mrs Collins has received a lot of presents, happy with all the nice little things they got the baby, but almost ecstatic with the three new dresses Elizabeth brought for her.

'Eliza, new dresses as well as all these lovely gifts for little William? I can hardly believe it! And how do you know they'll fit?'

'They're ready-made, Charlotte, you can adjust them a little with a sash. But you're slimmer than I expected, so I may have to fit them myself, we can just manage tomorrow before we leave, I do need daylight. And then you can stitch the new seams at your leisure. It'll give you something to do when Will goes to see Lady Catherine.

Oh, I'm sorry, Charlotte, I didn't know you mind that so much or I wouldn't have joked about it.'

'Dear Eliza, you can't help it. It's just that, you know, he hates to go there these days, he didn't want to go just now, he's so afraid of her and he thinks she knows Miss de Bourgh is here because your driver is staying at the Arms and Mr Darcy's team is unmistakeable, people hereabouts know it because he used to stay at Rosings very often. I told him Lady Catherine won't expect Anne to be here but he just fell apart on me. But I so much wanted to spend the evening with you, not have him around all the time, fawning on Miss de Bourgh. He is also a bit afraid of you, Eliza, says he never knows what you are thinking, like your father. But seriously, Eliza, Miss de Bourgh, Will is very unhappy here, and I beg you that if you hear of a living becoming available anywhere else, be it very modest, please think of Will, to spare him a life spent in perpetual fear.

He is wonderfully reformed and almost pleasant to be with, I don't love him and I don't think I ever will, but he adores me and little William and he'd do anything for us. He knows I don't love him and it hurts him, even more so since I have little William in a crib in my bedroom and he has his own room. We have not been intimate since William's birth, I cannot face the possibility of conceiving again, I need time to recover from the last nine months. If he was happy otherwise I think it would be easier for me to refuse him that other thing, now he keeps watching me like a big, fat puppy looking for a safe place to hide. If only he would stand up for himself just once I think Lady Catherine would respect him a little, but he cannot seem to do it, it's his youth, his father broke him before he had a chance to grow some backbone.'

Well, Anne cannot fault poor Mr Collins for being afraid of her mother, she never dared stand up to her either. Of course she was weak and tired, maybe she'd do better now. If she got the chance, with Nick ready to give his life for her. Imagine being afraid of intimacy with one's husband. Maybe she should tell Charlotte about ways to prevent conception, but how would she explain knowing about it?

'I cannot promise anything, Charlotte, but I will keep your request in mind,' Elizabeth says with feeling. Anne knows Elizabeth dislikes her cousin intensely, but of course Charlotte used to be her best friend, she must wish her to be happy. Anne herself may be able to do better once she's actually married.

'I will talk to my uncle, and to Frederick. I think he may be your best option, he knows a lot of people and most of them are landed. Don't despair, yet, Mrs Collins, something may come up, though I guess mother will never change.'

And then they talk of babies, and embroidery, and Georgiana's wedding, and Anne's engagement and their coming move to Pemberley. Mrs Collins calms down visibly, her baby on her lap and her presents all about her. It was the right thing to do to come here, just mailing those presents wouldn't have been half as nice.

The door opens and closes and Anne feels a little thrill, that must be Nick coming back, it's too early for Mr Collins to return, it's not even half past nine. But when an overwrought Mr Collins does come in and throws himself at her feet, Anne feels a little twinge of worry, where is Nick?

'I'm so sorry, Miss de Bourgh, I knew this was going to happen, your mother just saw I was hiding something! I thought I'd gotten away with it but after we played for almost an hour she laid into me like she did before. It was just like the old days, when my father would yell at me and hit me, and bring me down for no reason at all, just because he could, because I was the only thing he could hurt, the rest of the world could handle him alright. I begged for mercy but she wouldn't desist, I am so sorry, I promised I would stand up to her but I couldn't. I'm the most worthless man in the world, I can't even stand up for my principles, how can I preach to others if I betray those that treat me well, again and again?'

Anne is quite upset, finally she understands why Mrs Collins pleaded them to find him a new position, this is not the way a man should feel, it's demeaning and rather embarrassing. Her mother should be ashamed of herself to treat a human being like this.

And suddenly, all her own rancour against her mother awakens, and she takes Mr Collins' arm and tries to lift him back to his feet, but he is tall and overweight, and she is petite and slender. She gives up and talks to him instead.

'You cannot help this at all, Mr Collins. It is time someone gave my mother a large dose of her own medicine, and I think it will be my privilege to administer it. I don't need a guard, my mother cannot harm me, she is an overweight old lady who suffers from palpitations. I am strong and I am smart. Elizabeth has taught me sarcasm, I'm sure it will work just fine, even on my mother.'

Now she forces herself to sound kind and gentle as she asks Mr Collins, 'Please get up and stand tall, Mr Collins. You have the right to be yourself as much as any of us. Do not be ashamed of being a sensitive man, Mrs Collins tells me you are very good to her and your little baby.'

He looks at her like a deer that has taken a hit, fearful and dazed.

'But she doesn't love me, she despises me for being a coward. And rightfully so, because I am, I betrayed you.'

'Mrs Collins doesn't hate you, she has just told us you are such a good father and take such good care of her as well. Tell me, Mr Collins, when you told my mother I was here, did she say she was planning to come and fetch me? Will she come to me, or do I have to go looking for her to give her a piece of my mind?'

'She called for Hughes, so I guess she plans to come and fetch you. I'm so very, very sorry, I should not have gone.'

Anne looks at Mrs Collins, if her mother is coming Mr Collins should be out of reach, and preferably Mrs Collins and her baby as well. Or maybe they shouldn't? Maybe witnessing Anne giving her mother her due will do them some good.

'Mrs Collins, will you take your husband and your baby to the next room and leave the door ajar? Maybe try to calm him down a little so he can hear what I have to say to her? I think I'm grateful to him for making me see that I need to face mother in person, not through uncle Spencer or anyone else. Mr Collins has been suffering because I was too afraid to confront my mother. Well, no more, I can manage a sour old woman.

Though I'm glad you're here with me, Elizabeth, you've been my example since I first heard you talk back to my mother.'

Mrs Collins nods and hands her husband the baby, great tactics, then leads him to the adjoining room, indeed leaving the door open. Then Anne observes, not caring about Mrs Collins hearing her, 'I can handle my mother and I can handle Hughes, he likes me, he has a daughter my age. But I'm certain Nick will come charging in at some point. Will you handle him? I've never seen him angry but he loves me and he will kill for me. He may be the most dangerous person involved.'

Elizabeth laughs, she really isn't afraid at all, it's as if she relishes the chance to witness the moment that Anne de Bourgh decides to stand up for herself.

'I know how to handle a dominant man with a temper, leave him to me.'

And they look at each other and laugh again.

Then the door slams open and shut and Anne's mother storms in, hair disheveled, out of breath, head red as a beet. She really needs those bloodlettings, it's as if she has too much blood in her body. Anne decides to use her advantage while her mother is still out of breath and unable to speak.

'How dare you treat your dependants the way you treat Mr Collins, mother! He is the only person in the world who can still bear to be in the same room with you and you force him to reveal private information and rage at him into the bargain. You are not a Christian, you are a fiend!'

Besides looking red and bucolic, her mother seems very, very old and worn. Life all by herself is not agreeing with her. Too bad it is agreeing with Anne very well, thank you.

'Anne, is that you? You look different. I hardly recognise you. What are you talking about? Why are you staying with a minister? I don't approve of that, people will talk. You should come home, I've come to fetch you home, I forbid you to stay with Darcy, he has displeased me.'

'I am twenty five years old, mother, a grown woman. You cannot tell me what to do or whom to stay with. I like living with Darcy and I am going to do it for as long as I like.'

She seems to have forgotten about Anne's engagement, which suits Anne very well because she wants to make a point and getting married to a respected gentleman doesn't fit into that at all.

'How dare you talk to your mother that way! I gave you everything, you ungrateful girl!'

'Everything except love, mother, because you have no love to give. It just isn't in you, you're cold and cruel and you like to hurt people. And freedom, you took my freedom away from me by letting your quack doctor half kill me with his lancets. And respect, because you don't even know what that is. You want obedience and call it respect. You will not get it from me, mother, I will not come back to Rosings, not ever. I have finally lived these last few months, and I'm going to continue living.'

Now her mother has her breath back altogether and is seething with rage. Anne used to be afraid of her in this state, but now she merely wonders what would be needed to goad her into a fit.

'I did not try to kill you, how do you dare say that when I spent a fortune trying to cure you! You were never strong, I often wondered what I had done wrong to deserve such a weak, limpid creature as my only child. But I knew Darcy would make it right, such a fine, strong man, until she stole him away from me! I'm not going to let her steal you, too!'

That explains a lot, and it doesn't even hurt Anne to know her mother merely saw her as a pawn to get at strong, dominant Darcy. Elizabeth watches the discussion unfold with detached interest, she is truly her father's child.

'You never even wanted me, I guess I knew that from the start. You preferred your beloved Anne's child, the beautiful strong boy. But you are never going to get Darcy now, and you're not getting rid of me so easily either, mother, better take a good look at me: I'm no longer weak of body nor of mind. I'm easily your match in wills by now, because I am young, I am beautiful and I have people who care about me.'

That makes an impression on her mother, Anne doesn't know which hurts her most, the realisation of being all alone in the world, or having grown old and losing her famous looks. She really looks at Anne for what may be the first time ever, and slowly her jaw drops.

'You are indeed beautiful, and you look healthy. In less than three months you went from a sickly little wretch to this? How can this be?'

'It's your amant no longer trying to drain me dry that saved my life after ten years of living death in your prison of a house. Did you know the whole town knows about his efforts to kill me? When I was drinking coffee at the Arms with my friends old Madge asked if I was Miss de Bourgh and I told her I was. She said she was glad I looked so well having escaped that quack's clutches.'

'Doctor Hawker is not a quack! And you are still my daughter and should be ashamed to talk to servants and use such language! Hughes will be here any minute to drag you back home where you belong, and then Mrs Jenkinson will come back and everything will be as it used to be. Except for that hussy stealing away Darcy, I will never forgive her for that, never! My brother Spencer said you're quite the thing in London, Miss Elizabeth, and advised me to admit defeat and welcome you into the family, but that will never happen! Not until my dying day will I accept the blood of my family to be thus diluted and defiled.'

Elizabeth is not planning to say anything, she looks more like her father than ever, enjoying herself hugely over the follies of mankind, and indeed Anne's formidable mother seems to have been reduced to some fishwife in a farce.

'Don't be an idiot, mother, you already defiled our family by fornicating with a commoner. Who is a quack, and did nearly kill me, I'm still contemplating suing him, my fian..'

Here Anne is interrupted by the door opening and closing again. Her mother's face lights up, she expects her troops to have arrived, but Anne refuses to feel even the slightest bit of fear. Most likely it is Nick, and if not, her mother's servant has a very strong sense of justice and no inflated ideas of his mistress' importance in the world at large. He will listen to reason, especially if Mr Manners is mentioned.

As Frank and Nick reach a gate, a different one from where he entered the grounds, the young servant says, 'This is the main gate, the road passes by the parsonage, you cannot miss it. Now please keep in mind that despite her offensive way of speaking, our mistress is in fact an old lady, she cannot harm any of you. And please do not quarrel with Hughes, he thinks he can fight but I'm afraid he's getting on a bit and you look rather formidable. I bet a London guard does not last long without being able to handle some kind of nasty weapon, and Mr Manners would hire only the best.

'I heard that, Frank!' an amused voice sounds from the dark. 'Feel free to try my skills any day in the big barn. So I'm getting on a bit, eh, well I'm sure I can still handle two like you between feeding the horses and breakfast, you lout.'

It's the man himself, coming into view right now. He cuffs Frank's ear playfully, he is not really offended, these men like each other, which is probably why Frank cautioned Nick not to take the older man too seriously. He is afraid his friend will get hurt.

'But Frank is right, our mistress is old and not altogether aware of how the world is put together. Which is why I didn't rush over, you may be able to explain better why she cannot start a feud with Mr Manners by abducting his fiancée. If I refuse a direct order she will feel hurt.'

'You're not afraid to be fired?'

'Not particularly no. I'm more afraid you'll beat me to a pulp with whatever weapon you're carrying. Can we go in together and try talking first?'

Well, it's not as if Nick wants to make a fuss. Talking beats fighting any day, and at least he'll get to see his beloved's mother, even if he will not be properly introduced to her. The very thought of Anne doing just that nearly makes him laugh.

The door to the parsonage is unlocked, of course this is a village and who would break into the parsonage? Even if respect for the cloth doesn't deter robbery, the fact that ministers are invariably poor must make their abodes a less attractive target for thieves.

Hughes lets Nick go in first, and Nick's heart skips a beat when he hears Anne's voice raised in anger. Such a firm voice his beloved has, such a strong will. He is not needed here, except maybe to keep Hughes in line after all. Anne's voice has fallen silent from the very moment Hughes closed the door behind them, they have been heard. Now don't hug Anne, her mother shouldn't see them exchanging intimacies, and call her Miss de Bourgh. It will be difficult this time.

The first person he meets when entering the room is Mrs Darcy. She blocks the way to Anne and her mother until she has taken a close look at him and judges him calm and in control of himself. Hughes gets the same treatment, despite her small size she has an incredible presence that Hughes immediately recognises. Maybe Nick should introduce the two of them, Lady Catherine is not likely to do so.

And before the latter can address her servant, Nick winks at Mrs Darcy to show her the situation is in hand and says, 'Mrs Darcy, this is Hughes, who is in charge of security at Rosings. Hughes, you may have heard of Mrs Darcy, this is her in person.'

Nick knows by now that Mrs Darcy loves impertinence, even from a servant who feels a slight need to break the tension in a room. And he is proven right, Mrs Darcy nods politely and offers, 'Pleased to meet you, Hughes. I cannot deny I'm glad to see you come in together and both perfectly calm. This is my friend's house and she is a new mother, we should not upset her more than she already has been by her husband returning in a panic. This place may seem quiet but there is a great deal of suffering going on as we speak. Let us not add to it and rather resolve matters quickly so Miss de Bourgh and I can attend to my cousin and my friend.'

Such dignity, such poise, and such sense, Hughes cannot but be impressed, and he now knows this is Mr Darcy's wife, backing the two young ladies with social influence as well as Nick's physical power.

'I'm pleased to meet you, ma'am, I know your husband well, he is always very kind to staff. I'm sorry to hear Mr Collins is unwell, his parishioners need him in good health to see to our spiritual requirements.'

'Yes, yes, Hughes, enough gadding. Just take Miss de Bourgh and bring her home with us. This farce has taken enough of my evening. Come on, I don't pay you to talk.'

Hughes rights himself and speaks up.

'I cannot do that, ma'am. Miss de Bourgh is an adult and taking her against her will is a crime, a rather serious one, actually. And this sturdy man here is her personal guard, he will not let us leave this house with Miss de Bourgh without being forced to fulfill his duties. So unless Miss de Bourgh agrees to come with you of her own free will she will have to stay here with her friends.'

'You are in my service to do my bidding, Hughes, so do it!'

'I will do anything you ask of me within the limits of the law. What you require of me is not. I take it you have heard of your daughter's engagement to Mr Manners, the bachelor of bachelors?'

'Yes, Hughes, she is my daughter. It is the reason I want her back at Rosings where I can keep an eye on her until her wedding, my undutiful daughter refuses to write so I am forced to read the newspaper to know what she is up to. Now take her and go!'

'Remember the last person you sent to retrieve Miss de Bourgh, from London? Against my advice, I may add? It's all over the neighbourhood, that lowlife was recently thrashed by a group of men with a London accent, in his favourite pub not one mile from here, where he was bragging he'd get Miss de Bourgh after all and would give her a mighty good time on their way back to Kent. Your daughter would have gotten hurt or worse, ma'am. Mr Manners has eyes and ears everywhere, you do not want to put him out. I advise you to leave matters as they are and return to Rosings yourself.'

And before the elderly woman who is Anne's mother can retort, Nick steps forward and faces her menacingly.

'I have permission from Mr Manners to remove you from Miss de Bourgh's presence by whatever means necessary. He will protect me from any legal action that may result. Mr Darcy has promised me the same security to protect his beloved spouse. Hughes cannot stand against me, Lady de Bourgh, I can best him easily, and if he so much as pinches me he will be prosecuted by the best lawyers money can buy. I advise you to desist, you have already lost your daughter's love and respect, do you want her to witness you losing what remains of your dignity as well?'

Ah, that felt good. Being backed by two wealthy, influential men gives a fellow a heady sense of power. Nick does not look at anyone besides Lady de Bourgh, and he looks at her well, to find a resemblance to Anne, to memorise the person who made Anne's life a misery during all her best years. His scrutiny unbalances the lady as badly as it did the filthy thug she sent after Anne, Nick is glad to hear that Frederick sent his own bullies to rough him up.

Finally the lady accepts the facts, but not graciously.

'You have a foul mouth for a servant, young man. I suppose you think you are quite somebody, with your tough talk and lack of respect for your betters. But I assure you you will reap the rewards of your rudeness someday, when you have outlived your usefulness to those above you and they reduce you back to your own level.'

Then she directs her attention to Mrs Darcy, who is not impressed.

'Miss Elizabeth, I refuse to acknowledge your marriage to my nephew, to me you are an upstart and unfit to be his wife.'

Mrs Darcy nods politely and proves her reputation by saying sweetly, 'Didn't I once tell you your displeasure would be easily outweighed by the advantages of being Mr Darcy's wife? Well, it was even truer than I thought at the time, I'm supremely happy and so is Fitzwilliam. Fare well, Lady Catherine.'

The lady hates Mrs Darcy calling her nephew by his Christian name, and she quickly addresses her daughter.

'I forgive you, dear Anne, it is clear your mind has been poisoned by Darcy and this upstart. I hope Mr Manners will keep you in line and make a respectable lady of you, I have some hope you may yet be saved. Give my regards to Mr and Mrs Collins, they have been my sole companions these last few months and I greatly appreciate their faithfulness.'

'But I do not forgive you, mother, nor will I if you keep acting like this. Better leave now before I remove you myself, I think I'm strong enough by now.'

And she turns her back on her mother, trusting Nick and Hughes to see her out. Mrs Darcy is waiting for the lady to leave, apparently her cousin and friend have been the real sufferers in this whole affair. She rings the bell and asks the white-faced girl that turns up to provide a pot of strong tea for her master and mistress.

Nick follows Hughes and Lady Catherine to the door, where Hughes turns around and says quietly, 'Thank you for taking care of Miss de Bourgh, I can see she is very safe with you. Expect someone with her possessions tomorrow around ten.'

He offers his hand, which Nick shakes, leaving the lady waiting. Then Nick goes back in to see how Mr and Mrs Collins are faring. Hopefully Anne doesn't need much consoling, they had such a good day together, maybe she will only feel a certain relief.

When he returns, Anne immediately takes him in a crushing embrace, her slight weight on his neck, her warm breath on his bare throat causing him shivers of love and lust.

'That felt so good! I wasn't afraid at all, I knew I could handle my mother. Though it is infuriating that she just cannot seem to understand people at all. Still, Hughes knows I'm all right, and I suppose Dora and yourself told the other staff plenty.'

'We did, my love,' Nick dares reply despite Mrs Darcy's presence, 'we told them enough to know you're healthy and happy. Dora can be trusted, she did not say even one thing she should not have. Your mother's staff was very kind and very helpful. So many of them just to take care of one old lady!'

Mrs Darcy smiles and says, 'I was amazed about that as well, when our housekeeper showed me around at Pemberley. And I'm certain Lady Catherine has a lot more staff than we have.'

Then she looks at Anne and asks very quietly, 'You do realise Charlotte and my cousin may be watching, don't you?'

Mr and Mrs Collins are in the room next to this one? Why in the world did Anne embrace him then? Mr Collins has proven unable to keep a secret from Anne's mother, what was she thinking?

'Are you all right, Miss de Bourgh?' Nick asks his beloved formally, she is still in his arms, that cannot be helped, but maybe it looks as if she is upset after all and just seeking a bit of comfort. Having come to her senses, she catches on quickly and releases him, though reluctantly.

'Much better now, Nick. Sorry for imposing on you. Can you tell Mrs Collins the coast is clear, Elizabeth?'

And Mrs Darcy does fetch Mrs and Mr Collins, the baby sleeping in his father's arms. Frankly, the poor man doesn't look very much aware of anything, it's as if he has retreated to a safe place inside himself. Still, he may have seen and heard Anne and Nick embracing and exchanging endearments, and though part of Nick wishes Lady Catherine to find out her daughter is sleeping with a servant, he knows nothing good can come of it. But Mr Collins doesn't look as if he has heard anything, he exudes being miserable and nothing else. It seems so demeaning for a man to have to hide behind his wife, Nick just cannot imagine what can cause someone to lose his free will so totally. Maybe it is his position between the ruling class and the common people, Nick cannot imagine Mr Collins actually knowing anyone in the village personally. Or even at Rosings.

Meanwhile, Mrs Collins is very much awake, she helps her husband into an easy chair, baby still in his arms, and pulls another one close for herself. The way she holds her husband's hand Nick would swear she does love him, there seems to be sincere affection in her touch. Apparently Mr Collins is not as insensible as before, for he rests his head on his wife's shoulder and she lets him.

A maid knocks before coming in with tea to soothe ruffled nerves, and Mrs Darcy talks to her in a low voice before dismissing her, taking care to close the door behind her. Then she invites Anne and Nick to sit down while she pours the tea, handing everyone a steaming cup, except Mr Collins, because of the baby he guesses. For him, she puts a cup on a little table beside his seat.

'Could you follow what was being said, Charlotte?' she asks her friend outright.

'I did, but Will couldn't bear the shouting, he retreated to the back of the room with little William. She said we were her sole companions, Will.'

The last is said to her husband, who nods weakly.

'I'm not ever going back there. Tomorrow I'll write to your father to beg for a position in his business. Boys look to their fathers for a role model. I do not want my son to grow up afraid of the world, I want him to be proud of who he is, and able to stand up for himself. He will never see a good example in me while we are living here.'

Again, he sounds like a normal man, it's as if extreme adversity brings out the real Will Collins instead of some grovelling caricature he has created to cope with the world around him.

And when Anne promises the couple to help them find another position, something she may very well be able to pull off with Mr Manners, Mr Darcy, her uncle and several other landed gentlemen in her acquaintance, Nick sees an opportunity to educate the clergyman in finding support right here, where he tries to make a living now.

'Mr Collins, are you open to a piece of advice from someone who has never been his own master in his entire adult life?'

The chubby fellow is surprised by Nick's audacity, that much is clear, but he is so despirited he dare not even protest and nods for Nick to continue.

'If you let Lady de Bourgh's behaviour chase you away from your livelyhood and your house and the people who depend on you, won't you feel humiliated? Won't it make you miserable to admit defeat?'

Good, Nick has his attention, barging in on a very painful subject usually has that effect.

'Instead of trying to find a new position, isn't it an option to stay right here and look for local support? People who will help you find a dignified way to deal with your patroness' peculiarities? If I had problems with a superior there were always others to help me cope. I have met the Rosings' staff and they do not fear their mistress, though they feel she could show them a little more respect. Since she doesn't, they cannot help her feel less lonely, they see her pain but cannot do anything to relieve her current distress. But her temper and her unhappiness do not make them unhappy themselves, they enjoy their lives and make the most of the situation as it is. What I propose, Mr Collins, is that you get to know the Rosings staff personally, even befriend them. Then you will be part of a group, you will have allies who know your patroness and who have found ways to make living with her a lot easier.'

'But won't they lose their respect for me?'

He obviously has never even thought of the other people in a similar situation to himself, dependent on Rosings and at the mercy of a fickle and overbearing mistress. Now for an honest, even blunt, reply.

'How much do you think they respect you now, Mr Collins? Staff see everything, know everything. If you leave now they will understand, but if you stay and talk to them and share experiences, you will find they are all human beings with similar problems to yourself. And you will feel supported and able to face Lady de Bourgh with dignity, which will make her respect you and treat you better. After which you can slowly start to influence her to improve her own life without needing Miss de Bourgh or your constant attendance. You have a wife and child who need you.'

Incredible how Nick offers a totally different solution to Mr Collins' conundrum. He is honest to the point of bluntness, but he is obviously smart and very good with people. Elizabeth is certain it would work, that her cousin would feel better for not giving up, for not fleeing his current troubles. And Mr Collins does indeed seem to take Nick's words seriously, even Nick's suggestion that he has already lost his parish's respect doesn't appear to offend him much.

'You think they would accept my presence? I'm their shepherd, not their equal.'

Though the message is rather overbearing, the tone at which it is said is more plaintive than anything else.

'I dare say you all share a combination of worry for your Lady and disgust over how she treats people. Not just you, everyone. They will not let you into their entire lives, but they will talk to you and listen to you when you need a little heartening. They can give you advice on how to decide what to tell her and what not. Why not try? Even if you can find a different living it will take time, this can only improve that time.'

'You have a lot of faith in humanity, Mr Fowler, I suppose you have had a happy youth, have been treated well all your life?'

Mr Collins sounds almost jealous, Charlotte has told them some of the things he has been through at his own father's hands and Elizabeth was horrified such things had happened in her own family. Her dear father's own brother, taking his moods out on a defenceless boy, his own son. She wonders whether papa ever knew, she hopes not, for breaking contact with his nephew knowing what he was going through would have been a crime. Nick is very dignified when he replies, Elizabeth is suddenly certain he can learn to behave more gentleman-like with a good example, not in the least Simon's, they will spend a lot of time together. But Fitzwilliam is right, he does need to lose the London accent.

'My parents loved me and provided for us, though they left my brother and myself to care for our sisters and youngest brother. We were close, still are. But I have tasted rancour and cruelty, Mr Collins, I know what it feels like. It eats away at one's confidence and sense of self. It makes one feel very lonely. And yes, diminished, humiliated. Love helps.'

And with this remark he manages to look at Charlotte, who looks almost ashamed but shouldn't, it's practically impossible to love a man like her husband. According to Anne, Nick and herself fell in love when he had been beaten up by his direct superior in the Blackwood household and had been helpless and in severe pain. But there is more to their attachment than simple empathy and gratitude, they are a close couple, Elizabeth can see it even now, when they are trying their utmost to hide their involvement in case Charlotte heard something she shouldn't have.

'But Mr Collins, friendship helps, too. Shared burdens are less of a load, that is not just something people say, it's true.'


	120. Chapter 120

Chapter 130

Just when Eric thinks he is done for that night, enjoying a glass of wine in the private room that he dares requisite at every one of his shows these days, Manners enters with four young ladies in tow. As if Eric hasn't seen and been polite to enough young ladies tonight, and most of the nights before that since January. But it seems his friend insists on introducing them to Eric so they must be important people. Well, he will be polite, he is always polite, but they'll have to forgive him for showing his fatigue, he cannot hide it anymore, that moment passed when he sat down thinking he was Georgiana's for the rest of the night. Darcy almost intervenes but thinks the better of it. Manners was probably right in the matter of the Prince of Wales, he must be right again this time.

Eric only manages to remember the first lady's name, Miss Helena Cavendish, who apparently is the big sister of the page who brought the crown prince's request for a concert this morning. Has it only been this morning? It seems weeks ago.

'Are you all right, Mr Fielding? You look ready to collapse.'

A kind voice wakes him out of his distraction, and he rights himself and takes a deep breath to answer.

'He's just tired, Miss Cavendish,' Georgiana replies, 'he always gives everything he haves, then lets us take him home. And the next day he does it all over again, never holding back.'

'But how will he manage two concerts tomorrow if one is such a drain?'

She sounds sincerely worried, that is kind of cute. But dear Georgiana, the loveliest, most beautiful and talented woman in the world says dryly, 'Oh, it's not the playing that tires him out, it's the adulation. It's such a burden, you see, we were married last Wednesday and we'd hoped that would put an end to it. I suppose that was a bit naïve. But tomorrow, I guess the Prince won't fall at his feet or try to touch his hair or his sleeve. And the evening concert is in a middle-class hall, there will be admirers but they're generally a little more respectful towards their idol.'

'And here we are, make things even harder on the both of you. I'm sorry, Mrs Fielding, I never realised being admired was a burden. Please accept my congratulations on your marriage, my friends and I will leave you in peace, we don't want to be a nuisance.'

And they really prepare to leave, but Georgiana now says heartily, 'Thank you, Miss Cavendish. Please don't worry, you can stay a while if you don't mind Eric not saying much. He's comfortable enough if we don't force him to contribute anything sensible to the conversation. Do you want a glass of wine? It's excellent, that is the advantage of performing on a private occasion.'

She has real humour, and the ladies can hear she is serious in her invitation. Darcy helps them find a seat, and Frederick pours them wine. Then Georgiana stuns all of them by entertaining four obviously highly ranked, highly educated ladies at least five years her senior, until they are all laughing and chatting with her, perhaps helped by the wine, the glass each the ladies drink that is, Georgiana herself still takes hers too well-watered to influence her behaviour.

After twenty minutes Miss Cavendish gets up slightly reluctantly, followed by her friends.

'Thank you very much for your time, Mr and Mrs Fielding. You are a delightful couple and I can't imagine anyone disagreeing with me on that. I'm pretty sure those admirers don't want to come between you, they merely want to associate with you to feel part of your admirable group of friends. I'm sorry you're all leaving town so quickly, I would have loved to invite you for dinner at my parents' house. Well, maybe next season, if my brother is still in the Prince's service by then. If he's not, I'm afraid my stay here will come to a quick end, my parents prefer the country. I don't, I love town, and my friends.'

As Georgiana says all the expected things, Eric merely shakes whichever hand he is offered and mumbles a polite nothing. As soon as the lady and her entourage have closed the door behind them, Georgiana sits on his lap and kisses him soundly.

'That wasn't so bad, was it? Let's go home before someone else wants to come in. Was this what you had in mind, Frederick?'

'I'm impressed, Georgiana, you have come a very long way from the shy girl you used to be. You and Anne will be a formidable team of charmers.'

'And I'm starting to see what Anne likes about it. That Miss Cavendish was quite a nice girl. The others didn't seem to have any character to speak of, but I would have liked to get to know her better.'

Anne and Nick have gone to their rooms, together, but with Lady Catherine aware of Anne's presence it is not remarkable that Anne's guard would choose to accompany her wherever she goes. Mr Collins retreated shortly afterwards to take little William to his crib and he has not returned.

'He probably fell asleep beside him. Do you want to turn in yourself, Eliza? I'd like to chat a little longer since we're finally by ourselves, but if you're tired...'

With everything that happened and without her gorgeous tall husband by her side Elizabeth is certain she couldn't sleep at all, besides, this visit is meant to please Charlotte.

'I'm fine, Charlotte. Just pour me some more of that wine and I'll tell you everything.'

Her friend laughs and indeed fills their glasses once more.

'I've missed you, Eliza, your sense of humour, and how good a friend you always were to me. But these days, you've grown into your role as Mrs Darcy so much I also really admire you. It's not just having a rich husband and fashionable clothes, there is more to you, much more.'

A bit surprised, Elizabeth nonetheless realises Charlotte is right, she has changed from a country girl to a woman of the world. People look up to her for more than just the latest fashion, and it doesn't even bother her anymore. She can match their expectations, she can lead a household and give a good example. Lady Catherine really did not touch her with her childish remarks, Elizabeth is certain the old lady will soon start to realise she is only hurting herself by alienating Mrs Darcy, losing her nephew, her daughter, even her brother and his sons as a consequence.

Charlotte is waiting for her to say something.

'You are right, Charlotte, I have grown to fit my role as Mrs Darcy without even noticing. Imagine.'

'Dear Eliza, I want to check on my two men for a minute, I'll be back in a minute and then we can have a nice long chat. Is that all right with you?'

Thinking Anne and Nick should have removed themselves from the hall by now, Elizabeth nods and observes, 'As long as I have my glass of wine to keep me company I'll be just jolly!'

'Oh, Eliza, you're just incorrigible!'

As Charlotte leaves the room, Elizabeth feels so much older and wiser than her friend, though Charlotte is actually closer to Fitzwilliam's age than her own. Living with Frederick and Simon has caused Elizabeth to grow up really quickly and really thoroughly, and though her newly acquired knowledge is not something to be proud of, Elizabeth wouldn't miss it for the world.

When Charlotte returns she is indeed much relieved.

'They were both sleeping beautifully in my bed. I'll think of what to do later, I could move to Will's bed instead but I did promise he could sleep with me tonight. I suppose you and Mr Darcy still share a bed?'

Or maybe she isn't as naïve as Elizabeth thought after all?

'You know, for a moment there, I thought Miss de Bourgh was a little more attached to her guard than Mr Manners would find acceptable.'

And still as perceptive as ever, unfortunately.

'Until I saw him standing watch in front of Miss de Bourgh's door just now, like the dedicated servant he has shown himself to be. I suppose Miss de Bourgh was merely a bit overwrought after telling her mother off so forcibly. I can imagine she needed a strong shoulder for a few moments, and Mr Fowler certainly stood up for her like Mr Manners would have done himself.

I'll never forget this night, Eliza, seeing Lady Catherine reduced to a fat old lady by her very own daughter. Who used to be more like a wraith than a human being. And look at her now, so beautiful, and spunk to match. She was so nice to me and even to Will, I can still hardly believe it. What Mr Fowler said, it did something to me, it's what Will was never able to do, find support with the other staff. He considers himself a gentleman and above staff, but let's face it, he isn't. So he'd better swallow some of his pride and find some friends here than beg my father for a position and lose all of it.'

With Charlotte starting the intimate talk Elizabeth dares continue, and she observes, 'He seems so much kinder, my cousin. Was it becoming a father that altered him? I cannot believe angering Fitzwilliam could effect such a change, though I confess he is impressive when out of sorts. And yes, Charlotte, we do share a bed, this will be our second night apart since we were married. I'll miss him terribly.'

'I suppose I'll never find out which incident caused it, probably a combination of three, for do not underestimate what Lady Catherine's mistreatment did to him. He adored her so, and then she turned against him. I have often been sorry for deciding to marry someone I couldn't love, couldn't even respect, but seeing him afterwards did something to me, too. Maybe I do love him just a little, like a big helpless puppy that needs to be protected. Don't we come to love that which we need to guard from harm? Who could help developing feelings for someone unable to defend himself?'

Elizabeth cannot not imagine herself ever loving her obsequious cousin, but to prevent Charlotte's mind from leaping to Nick protecting Anne, she quickly assents and elaborates, 'Well, no-one could help loving little William in any case. He is so beautiful and cute.'

It's very easy for Charlotte to lose track of the conversation when her baby is brought to her attention, and after praising him sky-high, Elizabeth tells Charlotte how Lydia is handling her misfortune. Before they know it, the clock strikes one, and they decide it's time to turn in. Nick is no longer standing outside Anne's door, Elizabeth hopes he is snuggled against his beloved, after having praised her for her courage to stand up against her mother. Before they part, Charlotte says, 'I suppose I'll just leave the baby in his crib and share my bed with Will tonight. He is not handsome like your man, but he is nice and soft, and very clean, and he loves me so. Good night, Eliza, thank you so much for coming over.'

Then they both enter their own rooms, Elizabeth trying to keep her mind from imagining her cousin fawning over her friend and failing spectacularly.

'Why would you want to stand outside my door when you can lie in my arms, Nick?'

Anne does not understand, what madness has come over her beloved? It's obvious her mother won't be back, without Hughes she's nothing and he has made his position very clear.

'We've been careless, Anne, I don't think our host has seen our embrace, but Mrs Collins almost certainly has. I need to prove I'm just your guard, by doing my job where they can see it. Please trust me in this, my love, I'll make it up to you later.'

'It's not my comfort I had in mind, dear Nick, it feels wrong to have you behave like a servant.'

'I am a servant, Anne. And your slave...'

The way he looks at her just melts her heart, but it would add to her folly if she were to kiss him right here in the hallway. Better save apologies and tokens of affection for later.

'All right, I bow to your wisdom. How long will you be out there?'

'I don't know, yet. Patience, my beautiful, I'll be with you before you know it.'

It seems like hours before the door finally opens and Nick returns, though it's probably about half an hour. He seems very pleased, though.

'Mr Collins passed by first, with the baby, he went into Mrs Collins' room and he didn't return. I suppose he fell asleep, the poor man must have had the worst night of his life. Or maybe not, which would be very sad twenty minutes later Mrs Collins saw me right there in front of your door, went into her bedroom, returned immediately and told me her husband had fallen asleep. She promised she would lock all the doors herself so I could turn in and get some sleep. They've both seen me do my job, and I suspect Mrs Collins will stay up as long as possible to enjoy Mrs Darcy's presence.'

'Yes, and Elizabeth will want to stay up late for she will miss her beloved husband.'

'How can she love such a man, Anne? He scares the hell out of me.'

'It's because she is a very brave person. Her courage rises with every attempt to intimidate her. I heard her tell him that when she was staying over right here with Mrs Collins while my cousin was visiting Rosings, and the Collinses had been invited to dine with us. I didn't know then, but Darcy was already half mad over Miss Elizabeth Bennet, only he didn't want to love her because she was beneath him. She hated him for his arrogance towards her, but he didn't know that, he thought she was flirting with him. Do you want to hear what happened next? It's very romantic.'

Nick has removed his clothing and is now lying snuggled against her, not stroking her or nuzzling her, just enjoying her closeness and her story.

'I do, I can hardly believe it. They love each other so, how can theirs not have been love at first sight?'

'Well, as Darcy told me, he met Elizabeth at a party in the county where she lived, and he hated it there. The people were loud and unsophisticated, and in his bad mood he slighted Elizabeth for not being pretty enough to dance with. She of course took exception to that and started to dislike him, which his obvious disdain for the people around her didn't improve at all.

And while he started to fall for her intelligence and ready wit, mostly at his expense she told me, she didn't hesitate to feed and show him her dislike, which he interpreted altogether the wrong way and saw as encouragement. I witnessed them together and he must have been deluding himself, she was very friendly with my cousin the colonel but almost rude to Darcy. Still he proposed to her one evening at this very parsonage and was brutally rejected, not without justification because Darcy had separated his friend Mr Bingley from her eldest sister, making both very unhappy. There was another reason which I am not at liberty to divulge. Darcy was devastated and sick with love for months, until they accidentally met again at Pemberley, his estate.

He showed her he had improved himself, she had found out he had been slandered by someone she had trusted implicitly and now discovered she quite liked the new Darcy. Her affection for him grew when she found out he was actually a good man, and eventually they expressed their now mutual affection and got together. They have been very difficult to separate since.

And now I want to tell you something about Darcy that concerns me, Nick. My mother had always told me that one day Darcy and I would get married to unite our estates. He never showed me love but I thought he'd obey my mother and marry me and take me away from Rosings. Save me, as it were. As Colonel Compton got a blow when Elizabeth married, so I got one when Darcy married. It was only when my uncle took me to London that I started to get over Darcy. I had more or less loved him for years while he never gave me a single thought. In fact he despised me for lacking life and character. When he found out why, he felt very bad and he has done everything in his power to make up for his mistake, and we are very good friends now. But one time I broke my heart over him, on top of the rest of my miserable existence. It's only when I met you that I realised Darcy and I would not have been happy together.'

Nick is so strong and he shows his feelings so easily. Crushed in his embrace, she can hear his voice more affected than she has ever heard it.

'Anne, my love, I thought I knew all you had suffered. On top of everything else, to wait for an unreachable man to rescue you. How I feel for you, Anne, seeing your room tonight, hearing Dora tell me how you lived. How did you bear it for so long? I wish I could love you even more to make up a little for all those years of emptiness and despair, but I already love you with all my heart and soul.'

Of course, he has been in her room! He has seen the place where she spent her days in languor and sameness, but he is forgetting one thing. She kisses him as he always kisses her, small, loving, all over his beloved face and his strong neck. Then she tries to soothe his feelings, for he is truly upset and there is no reason to be so, she is so very happy lying here with him, their future together secured.

'Though I was unhappy it was not an acute pain, my love. Not like Darcy, who couldn't eat and couldn't sleep and was almost in physical agony from being rejected. Knowing Elizabeth hated him, mostly for the wrong reasons but partly deserved. My life was a kind of haze, I couldn't even feel hurt or deserted. The days just slipped past without joy but also without true pain. And I'm so happy now, my beloved, I love you so much, you are so good to me, I felt so safe when you came in tonight and told my mother you'd do whatever was needed to protect me.'

'I dared do that because Mr Manners and Mr Darcy assured me they would back me, whatever I did. And besides, you didn't even need me, you handled your mother perfectly fine yourself.'

'You're still my hero, maybe I didn't need you to protect me, Nick, but I need you more than anyone.'

They lie in each other's arms for a long time, perfectly content to just relish the other's closeness. But then something changes, his stroking becomes more intense, her kisses find his lips instead of the soft skin of his throat, heat overcomes deep feelings, and soon they are making love with passion.

After a surprisingly restful night, Darcy feels expectant like a child on an outing, Elizabeth is coming home today! Undoubtedly bearing exciting tales of babies, deep conversations on fashion and the latest news on Will Collins, rogue preacher at Hunsford, Kent. Or maybe Nick Fowler did run into trouble breaking into Rosings and she will indeed have something interesting to tell. Not a chance, most likely those who stayed behind will have the taller tale to tell, with Darcy's baby-sister about to gain the Prince of Wales' approval to further her husband's career. And maybe her own?

They do not appear any different at breakfast, Georgiana and Fielding, well, his brother-in-law's state of boneless relaxation, as rare for him as it was ever for Darcy himself, has not returned. Poor chap, to have that delightful state interrupted by a royal summons. Maybe he'll find it again at Pemberley a few days from now.

'No nerves, no anxiety?' Manners asks laughingly, and both newly-weds shake their heads.

'It's just another show, Manners,' Eric observes very dryly. 'Except without the adulating masses. Frankly it'll be a relief.'

Now Manners' eyes narrow and he looks at Georgie and Fielding alternately and very intensely.

'Do not underestimate the power of the Heir Presumptive, either of you! It's not a mere concert, you two, and I do not mean where the music is concerned. The prince is very dedicated to the arts and will appreciate romantic music, and he is not a critical listener, nor will any of his friend be. But he is a charmer and may make you inclined to be familiar towards him. Don't! Stay formal at all times, give him and everyone around him their due.'

And he explains exactly how those who serve the prince are usually of very high birth, like the page. Apparently he has used his connections to find out exactly whom they can expect in his entourage, and how to address them.

'I wish I could come with you to smooth things over, but I am not invited. My friend Lady Harrington tells me this is not accidental, I am known as a supporter of the crown and therefore seen as a kind of spy.'

Darcy wonders whether Manners isn't overestimating his own importance, but of course he has no idea how things are between King George and his eldest son. Lady Harrington however should know.

'And last but not least, Prince George is a real ladies' man. You may be newly married, but he has proven time and time again marriage vows do not mean anything to him. At the moment he is reputed to be enchanted by Mrs Maria Fitzherbert, and he does indeed prefer women with a lot of life's experience, but still I would advise you to stay on the safe side and be polite but not too entertaining or interesting. Why invite trouble by attracting too much of his attention?'

Even more advice follows, and Fielding and Georgie listen with interest, Darcy can see them trying to commit it to their formidable memories. While Darcy tends to take Manners very seriously, he doubts whether his warnings are necessary. After all, isn't Fielding right, isn't this just another show?

'We'll keep everything in mind that you have told us,' Fielding concludes. 'I for one am glad to know that the man guiding us inside is in fact a noble, though I don't think I'd have treated him differently if I'd thought him a commoner like myself. Still, I won't worry about all this either, Georgiana and I will play our best, and then we'll leave. I suppose His Highness won't even notice us much, we're not that important.'

And though Manners seems to differ in his opinion, he wisely refrains from saying so. The main thing is that they perform well, and that is always easier when feeling at ease.

'I'm certain you will do really well. Now, let's see what the papers have to say about the situation in France.'

In the face of such horrible stories it is easy to forget their own little worries, until Johnson comes in with a familiar page in the royal livery. Maybe the prince is unwell and Georgie and Fielding are not needed?

'Good morning lady and gentlemen,' the boy announces, as self-assured as he ever was, 'my Prince sent me over right after breakfast to assure his afternoon will be exactly as he envisions. My description of your party caused him some concern, since Mrs Darcy seemed to be lacking and he especially wishes to meet her.'

'Mrs Darcy is in Kent, visiting a friend, Lord Cavendish,' Manners replies, apparently unmoved by this disturbing request, 'she is not expected back in London before three or four today at the very earliest.'

The boy's attitude is starting to irritate Darcy, either he is totally unaware of the impropriety of the Prince's request, or he just doesn't care. Darcy suspects the latter. Fortunately his newly found self control will not be tested, for no-one expects a genteel lady to make an appearance after a morning's drive. Not even at the Prince of Wales' request, especially not at the royal heir's house, it would take at least an hour to prepare for such high company.

'Great, that is right on time,' the boy comments, nearly provoking Darcy to a most unseemly comment on his future ruler's sense of common propriety. He manages to leave matters to Manners, hoping he'll excuse Elizabeth from accompanying her sister and brother on account of the fatigue of her travels.

'I'm certain she will be honoured to be present, Lord Cavendish,' Manners replies, shocking Darcy to the core. Is that really necessary? Cannot Elizabeth plead fatigue as an excuse to not appear in the presence of the notorious womaniser? She may be much younger than Prince George's general taste in women, but people always say she seems much more mature than her years. He cannot risk losing her. The Prince doesn't care if a woman is married, he takes what he wants. Can Darcy trust his beloved to resist the man's charms? Of course he can, but cannot even Elizabeth be forced to submit to such a powerful man?

Before Darcy can fret himself into a state, Manners intervenes.

'Don't do it Darcy! You know she loves you and only you, now please give her the trust she deserves. Elizabeth may be young but she can handle herself in any situation, even when faced with a spoiled prince. Without offending anyone. Besides, Prince George may be charming, he is also nearly forty, rather chubby and, if my source may be believed, he has his mistress living under his roof. She will be with him all the time, and you may rest assured she will keep his attention on herself. So, you stop worrying, and those two take this a tiny bit more seriously, and all will be well.'

Since there is nothing else he can do, Darcy decides to do as Manners suggests. There is plenty he can do to keep himself busy until Elizabeth returns, and after breakfast he retires to his study to write some letters of business.

It promises to be a busy morning, but Elizabeth really wants to return to her old haunts at Rosings park, so she decides to get up early and reminisce before breakfast. Since yesterday evening she is no longer afraid to be caught by any of her Ladyship's servants, the most senior servant in the household knows who she is and they'll leave her in peace. And as far as Elizabeth knows Lady Catherine herself never stirs outdoors. Besides, it's mostly good manners that would keep her from visiting the park, not fear of Lady Catherine or anything.

Charlotte is already up and busy, she looks well, fortunately spending a night with her husband doesn't seem to have done her any harm.

'You're up early, Eliza, couldn't sleep without your man?'

Charlotte sounds almost naughty, and Elizabeth replies with a laugh, although what she says is the plain truth.

'I slept like a baby, but I really want to take a stroll through the park before breakfast. There is still so much to be done and discussed before we leave.'

'I suppose you want to go out by yourself, to meet the Mr Darcy from the past?'

Such insight from Charlotte! Her presence would indeed be a hindrance to Elizabeth just this once.

'Thank you for understanding, Charlotte, yes. I have an appointment with someone from my past, and I think he will only turn up if I'm by myself. Unlike the real Mr Darcy, who would sit in company as easily if only he could watch my every move.'

Talking of Fitzwilliam as Mr Darcy feels a little strange, even naughty. But Charlotte doesn't know that, nor will she ever. Fortunately Elizabeth can be pretty certain now that no-one will ever know about his peculiarity, according to Nick's forthright report the gossip about the Darcy family circulating among the servants does not include the master of the house suffering from humble spells. Besides, those seem to have abated for now, according to his own explanation because he has conquered his irrational jealousy.

'It's still the most romantic thing I ever saw, Eliza. Imagine his feelings when he sat in that very chair that one evening, not saying a word. I watched him for at least half an hour and his eyes never left your face. How he must have smarted when you rejected him for spurning you that time you first met. Of course he wasn't very kind to you most of the time, but still I often wondered how you stuck to your word even though he might have been your family's deliverance from misfortune. I don't think I could have kept Will from turning you out after your father's decease, not then, he had such feelings of rancour towards you for spurning him.'

Charlotte thinks she'd rejected Mr Darcy just to spite him? That needs a little elaboration.

'Maybe you should come on this walk anyway, Charlotte, and I'll tell you why I really rejected a man of Mr Darcy's consequence. It was not just injured pride, you know, there was a lot more to it.'

Deciding in an instant what to tell Charlotte and what to keep from her best friend, Elizabeth waits until Mr Collins comes in from feeding the chickens. After the most sincere and kind greeting the two cousins have ever exchanged, little William is handed to his adoring father and Charlotte and Elizabeth go out for a ramble in the park. Remarkably, Mr Collins does not warn his beloved wife to steer clear of the park, maybe she didn't tell him where they are going.

Contrary to what Elizabeth expects, Charlotte seems not at all in a hurry to hear particulars, she merely enjoys the moment, the smell of a fresh spring morning, the green buds swelling on the trees, the sounds of cattle lowing in the distance. They walk in silence, crossing the road to reach the entrance to the park. And because of her friend's patient attitude towards the intimacies she expects to hear from Elizabeth, the memories do come.

'This is where he handed me his letter, the day after I rejected him,' Elizabeth speaks her thoughts out loud, realising Charlotte doesn't know about the letter but unable to elaborate because of the flow of her feelings.

'I didn't want to credit what he wrote about Wickham, but everything just fell into place, I couldn't help but believe his side of things.'

The little bench is still exactly the same, the view towards the house, the large chestnut not yet in bloom or in leaf but budding ferociously. She continues towards her favourite walk, almost expecting Mr Darcy, not Fitzwilliam but his proud, reticent former self, to turn up. How would she have acted if she'd known, both his true character and his feelings towards her? Again she speaks her thoughts.

'I told him it was my favourite walk, to warn him away, but he took it as an invitation. Later he told me he'd allowed himself to look for me here only every third day when he ached to go every day. He was afraid to create expectations. How could he not have seen I didn't want him? And why didn't he show any of his feelings, why wasn't he nice to me?'

Charlotte obviously understands these questions are rhetorical for she does not answer them but merely listens to whatever her friend has to say. She probably likes to piece the snippets of information together to form an image of what happened that night in her very own home.

'I'd be rambling along, usually walking pretty fast, sometimes strolling to enjoy how beautiful this place was in spring, every day adding to its beauty, and then he'd turn up, again. I never saw how handsome he was, I was merely impressed by his formal dress and his aloofness. I likened him to his aunt, arrogant, feeling himself above me, why would he go out of his way to meet with me? It never occurred to me he might be in love or I would have tried to get to know him. Not with the intention of marrying him, I was more than half in love with George Wickham and resolute to hate his worst enemy. But I could have gotten to hate him less if I'd known him better. Instead, I felt very uncomfortable, I didn't want to entertain someone I disliked so I let silences fall constantly to make him pick up his side of the conversation or feel as uncomfortable as I did. But he never felt it that way, he was just relishing being close to me, trying not to but unable to help himself.'

They walk on, Elizabeth feeling Mr Darcy's presence, now recognising the signs of his affection in her memories of him, his demeanour, the sparse things he had told her, the questions he'd asked her. She remembers their moments together as if it was yesterday, not a year ago in a different world. He did indeed show some attachment, but very subtly. The girl she used to be could not have discerned them, not with his general behaviour so formal, even distant.

'I could not have known, could I? He did not suffer in vain, I was not heartless, though I had been nursing my dislike of him.'

She knows she didn't hurt him on purpose, and everything worked out well in the end, so she calmly tells Charlotte how her union with Fitzwilliam finally came about.

'I refused him because Wickham had told me Mr Darcy had ruined his life, on purpose, just because he could, and I believed him. And because Colonel Fitzwilliam had told me his cousin had prevented his best friend from marrying a woman he deemed unsuitable. Mr Darcy separated my sister and Bingley, making her very unhappy. And during his proposal he insulted me again, emphasising how much of a degradation it would be to marry me. I had reasons to reject him, Charlotte, though in the matter of Wickham he proved to be blameless.'

And she tells her friend everything with regards to that worthless fellow, including how Mr Darcy forced, or rather tempted, him to marry Lydia after their elopement. She only keeps Georgiana's intended elopement to herself. Telling Charlotte about Wickham, Elizabeth realises she was very close to falling in love with him at that time, Miss King most likely having been the only thing that saved her. Maybe her aunt's warning, too, but if Miss King hadn't come into her inheritance and he had continued his attentions to Elizabeth...

Her accidental meeting with a reformed Mr Darcy at Pemberley nearly makes Charlotte swoon.

'It's even more romantic than I thought, Eliza, to think he did that for you, change his attitude, save your sister's reputation, and all this without the slightest hope of ever being able to win your hand. I admired him already, but from now on I adore your man. So handsome, and such a good person. If you weren't my best friend I'd envy you. As it is, I'll keep it to myself to swoon over when I feel the need for some romance.'

'But Charlotte, in a way Will's devotion is rather romantic, too.'

'It's a vast improvement on what it used to be, except I wish he had a little more backbone. But he does think these days, and he can see there are more sides to things that just the one he has been taught. Still, there are worse ways to live, Eliza, and generally I'm quite happy. I will miss you, though. I suppose I'm going to take Miss de Bourgh's man's advice to heart and find support right here in the village. Will didn't used to like my spending time with people he considered beneath him, but Mr Fowler is right, it will be a relief to have friends here. I suppose Will never had any friends, but I think that Hughes fellow would be good company for him, and the steward. I'll take care he spends some time on them, and I'll find some friends of my own. And if another situation can be found we'll find new people right there. I'll write to tell you how it goes. He was so sweet last night, so tender and careful, when he used to be just passionate.'

Too much information, Charlotte! Mr Collins is her cousin, and Elizabeth prefers not to have to imagine him in the bedroom. Fortunately her friend does not offer more details but elaborates on the continuing change in her husband.

'I do think it's having a child that changed him most of all. He has been humiliated all his life, Eliza, I thought Mr Darcy confronting him with his misbehaviour changed him but now I do think there is a limit to what a man can be forced to learn. I think the real change must come from within, must be real growth.'

Well, Elizabeth will help her hope, first of all that Will's humiliation will finally end, and secondly that he will continue to grow. It would make life easier on Charlotte and himself, and it would give their children hope for the future. Hope to grow up confident and assured of their parents' love and support.

The park is as beautiful as it ever was, and Elizabeth feels very close to her friend, to have shared the story of Fitzwilliam's love for her in the place where it was first brought to Elizabeth's attention. Right under the nose of her friend, who was the first to have a suspicion of it.


	121. Chapter 121

Chapter 131

Having woken up at his usual early hour, Nick spends a delightful half hour watching Anne sleep. He still cannot believe that a beautiful, smart girl with an impressive fortune would fall in love with a man like him, at best mediocre looking, of no breeding whatsoever, his past filled with shameful dalliances.

But he cannot doubt her love, it is as obvious and as real as his own for her. And she is safe from having to live like Nick's mother did, so he will enjoy their time together without worrying about the future. No man will ever rule Anne, Mr Manners will keep his promise to let her live in freedom, if only because he has a dangerous secret to guard. But Nick does trust the man altogether, no pressure will be needed, he is kind and honourable.

Watching Anne sleep, Nick really has to control his urge to kiss her, it would wake her, and though that would offer all kinds of possibilities there will be plenty of time for that later. She is so beautiful, her features perfectly regular, her hair almost golden in colour, she looks more Mrs Darcy's age than her own. When he has looked his fill, he snuggles back against her side and goes back to sleep for another few hours. No Dora to catch them, and very few other servants. Anne will leave her room first, and if she sees someone in the hall she can pretend to have forgotten something and go right back in to warn Nick not to be seen. With his own room right next door to hers the situation is so much different.

When they finally wake up they can hear the front door opening and closing, followed by footsteps leading away from the house. Nick suppresses the urge to see who is going away, and instead kisses his beloved passionately. She doesn't hesitate to answer his kiss, and now he has to get up anyway to see to his protection, so he takes a quick peek out of the window, spying Mrs Darcy and Mrs Collins strolling along the road towards the park. Is that a good idea? Mr Darcy charged Nick with keeping an eye on his wife, and Nick feels obligated to obey the gentleman. But on the other hand, it would be rather overbearing for a servant to try to give Mrs Darcy instructions.

'What's wrong, my love, have the pigs got in the garden?'

She cannot be serious! Laughing despite himself, Nick answers, 'The garden is perfectly fine, my love. Though a lot bigger than I thought, seen from above. No, Mr Darcy ordered me to keep his wife safe, and right now I can see her strolling towards Rosings with Mrs Collins. Should I accompany them? I can't stop her, I cannot tell a genteel lady what to do, or can I, when her husband has ordered me to?'

For some reason, Anne thinks that is funny. Nick will never find Mr Darcy's orders funny, but then he doesn't have memories of climbing trees together and sailing stones over the lake, Mr Darcy's own, private lake.

'Even Darcy doesn't try to tell Elizabeth what to do, Nick. Let it go, she'll be perfectly safe. She can handle anything Rosings can throw at her. You just come back to bed and love me. You know you want to.'

More than anything.

With only a minimum of sneaking about they manage to leave the room afterwards, finding themselves alone in the drawing-room with their host for half an hour. Actually, it is more like a living area, like Nick's parents used to have. The size of the room and the quality of the furniture are only slightly above what he is used to from his youth.

Anne is so kind to Mr Collins that he seems to have forgotten his usual humility, or maybe it's having his cute little boy on his arm that gives him a new self-confidence. Whatever the reason, the clergyman manages to talk sensibly with both of them for half an hour, Nick taking care to show Anne the deference that is her due as his mistress. Towards Mr Collins he behaves as he did yesterday, almost as one servant to another. Having an influential gentleman's approval gives him his own measure of self-confidence, and it is absolutely impossible to show respect to a man who has so little dignity as Mr Collins, even if he is a gentleman by birth and stands to inherit Mrs Darcy's father's estate. Still, there is not much he has to say on the subject of children in general and babies in particular, so he is certain not to offend his host by treating him with too little respect.

When the ladies return, obviously having had a nice stroll through memory lane, they have breakfast together. Mrs Darcy is in an excellent humour, and addresses Nick familiarly.

'Did you ever hear how I became Mrs Darcy, Nick? It's a very romantic story, one that I think my cousin hasn't heard before either.'

Though Nick has heard it just last night, he should pretend to be a mere retainer, so he keeps his reply vague.

'I've heard it wasn't love at first sight, which surprised me more than a little. Your staff talk very little, Mrs Darcy, I've never heard much gossip about your family.'

'Let me tell you about it then. We'd met where I lived with my parents, in Hertfordshire. I didn't like Mr Darcy much since he was very much above us country folk, at least he appeared to be. He was a bit, but he was also naturally reticent. I must admit I wasn't very nice to him, I liked to outwit him and thought he disapproved of me as much as I disliked him. In fact he was almost bewitched by my quick mind and impetuous manners, but he didn't show his preference at all, he seemed as distant and arrogant as ever.

When they left the neighbourhood I quickly forgot him, and when I met him again at Rosings nothing between us had changed. I thought. Until he proposed to me out of the blue, one evening in this very room. I refused him, and we almost had a row because he did not take it well.'

'You refused Mr Darcy? Cousin Elizabeth what were you thinking? You didn't have a penny to your name! And how can it be that you are married now? A man like Mr Darcy wouldn't propose to the same woman twice, that is so humiliating!'

'That is where the romantic bit starts, Mr Collins. I visited Derbyshire with my aunt and uncle, and they wanted to view Pemberley. I didn't, I felt embarrassed, but I didn't want to tell them about the scene at Hunsford and the family was away so I agreed to go. Seeing his house and hearing his housekeeper's testimonial on her master I got a totally different account of him. And then we met him on his own grounds, I felt so horrible, as if I'd thrown myself in his way on purpose. But he didn't seem angry with me, he was kind and asked to be introduced to my relatives, and to introduce me to his sister. We saw each other several times more, and I started to realise he was a much better man than I'd realised. When we left Derbyshire I was sorry I'd most likely never see him again, I'd come to appreciate his sincerity and steadfastness, and was thankful that he didn't seem to reproach me for having refused him.

Then he returned to Hertfordshire, where his best friend got engaged to my sister. Meeting regularly it didn't take long before we reached an understanding, and I soon found out I'd made the right decision: he had stayed true to his love for me for the better part of a year, I could not have found a more devoted husband.'

As Elizabeth expected, her story has a huge impact on her cousin, somehow hearing she refused a man miles above him takes the sting out of his own rejection. But only for him, Elizabeth never meant to hurt or humiliate either of them, she just wanted to marry for love. She never thought of gaining either a mere establishment or fabulous riches through marriage. Only now does she realise how naïve she used to be, thinking she had the freedom to choose a man she loved. But still she is glad she never chose wisely and accepted an offer just to have a comfortable home, or things might not have ended so well!

'It's indeed a beautiful story, Eliza,' Charlotte offers, and her doting husband admits, 'and you are a very courageous woman. But lucky, too, to inspire such devotion in such a noble man.'

Fortunately he hasn't lost his old self altogether, he can still judge Elizabeth for being self-assured and what he undoubtedly thinks impertinent. And in a way she has to admit she is, although she flatters herself that a lot of admirable men, and all right, at least one less admirable one, consider her very attractive, she doubts whether any of them would have left her so free to make her own decisions as Fitzwilliam has done.

While Anne will undoubtedly enjoy watching Mrs Darcy improving the fitting of Mrs Collins' new dresses, Nick expects to be very unwelcome wherever they will work their women's magic. Having been chaperone to two girls he knows fitting involves a lot of standing still in a chemise and petticoats. If he removes himself from the living-room they can use that convenient room to pin and sew to their hearts' content. But where to go himself?

He decides to take a walk through the garden, not something he'd normally do but more fitting to his current role as Miss de Bourgh's protector than sitting in the kitchen with the other staff. Mr Collins is very busy in his garden and Nick has to admit it looks lovely, even this early in spring.

It must be a style typical for country homes, he has never seen its like in town, it's as if the plants have not been put in a particular place on purpose, but have grown there spontaneously. Knowing Mr Collins this cannot be true, the man would never suffer anything to merely grow as it pleases while he has to obey a mistress. Most likely he is a very talented gardener, as subtle with plants as he is obtuse in daily life, with his wife and parishioners. Hopefully he will use some of his sensibilities with things that grow to raise his son in love and confidence.

Nothing in Mr Collins' garden is straight, well, except the plots in the vegetable garden and the path leading to the front door, but the rest of the sizeable plot seems more at home in a fairytale. Little paths made of cobbles here and of large stone slabs there wind through irregular beds stuffed full with small shrubs and clumps of plants sending out fresh green shoots. Rambling bushes overgrow little corners with curious seats, and in a lost corner hidden by a tall evergreen hedge, Nick even finds a beautiful pond with crystal clear water, a weeping tree bending over the water as if to tickle the sleek fish swimming their lazy circles.

'Mr Fowler!'

It's Mr Collins himself calling out as if looking for him. Apparently he has been spotted. Or maybe the grass and the trees gave away his presence to their tender. He can almost believe it in this magical place. Following the path towards the voice he soon discerns his host, accompanied by a tall figure. It's Hughes, come to bring Anne's things. A perfect opportunity to meddle a little in Mr Collins' affairs. Glad to be wearing his beautiful fitted coat, Nick greets Lady de Bourgh's man heartily, they parted in excellent spirits and Nick is glad for this opportunity to show his host how to relate to other people.

'Fowler, so good to see you!'

The tall man cannot shake hands since he is carrying all Anne's personal effects, the satchel Dora found in her mistress' room as well as the lamp. Nick offers to take the fragile object, and Hughes carefully hands it to him.

'My mistress will be very pleased to have her cherished possessions returned to her,' he says very politely and almost humbly, mostly to avoid suspicion of their closeness. But its effect on the tall retainer is extraordinary and almost opposite. Hughes' face falls and he sounds affected as he observes, 'I've known Miss Anne almost her entire life, and yet I cannot help but notice that you've gained her trust and respect as I never managed. How long have you been in her service? It cannot have been more than two months.'

Nick manages to hide his surprise and answers truthfully, 'I met her about six weeks ago, when she first visited the Blackwood family, my former employers. But she was different then, aloof, feeling superior. I suppose Miss de Bourgh changed a lot when her physical condition improved, Hughes. She has told me herself she felt too good to talk to servants, or even to have them talk to her. It was her mother's way and no servant ever tried to change that. Until I saw her looking out of sorts and asked how she was doing.'

Apparently Nick has managed to refrain from showing his true feelings, remembering that first moment of real contact between Anne and himself, for Hughes merely remarks, 'You must be right, Fowler, no-one here ever thought of asking her anything, Lady de Bourgh really objects to staff being inquisitive. And yet poor Miss Anne might have needed just that to feel a little better.'

'She says she couldn't care very much then, she had too little energy to do anything. And she told Dora not to reproach herself for she wouldn't have listened to or taken advice from a mere servant. Though she would have believed you sooner than Dora, but nonetheless she has no hard feelings towards anyone but her mother and the doctor who so nearly killed her.'

'It sounds like she talks to you a great deal, Fowler, I'm glad she has found a friend, even if it's among the staff.'

Again, Nick's feelings have betrayed him into revealing their closeness. Better change the subject or he'll give himself and Anne away.

'I suppose we do talk sometimes, but Miss de Bourgh has a lot of friends of her own class these days, Mr and Mrs Darcy, of course, and Miss Darcy, now Mrs Fielding, and her husband. But most of all Mr Manners, the most respected gentleman in town. He dotes on her and will be the best husband ever. He will take her to every party in town, he knows everyone and everyone likes him, she will never be bored or lonely again in her life.'

'You seem very glad with her choice of husband,' Hughes says almost suspiciously. Nick can almost hear him add, 'I'd guess you'd prefer to keep her to yourself.' He really needs to change the subject!

'I am, Miss de Bourgh could not have found a worthier man to bestow her hand on. Of course he is my employer...

But if you'll forgive me for asking, Hughes, how is your mistress? Is she doing reasonably well after what happened?'

The tall man does not seem overly concerned about her fate and replies loosely, 'She was well enough, a bit quiet maybe. Some of us are hoping she may be thinking very hard.'

Then his expression turns to seriousness and he addresses Mr Collins, who is walking along with them towards the house. Better leave Anne's stuff in the hall, or they'll see Mrs Collins in a dubitable state of dress.

'Mrs Darcy said something that made quite an impression on me, Mr Collins, and I hope you will forgive me my impertinence in asking. She mentioned a lot of suffering going on in this house, when I thought you must be very happy with your lovely new baby. Did she mean you, Mr Collins, are you indeed suffering from my mistress' crude behaviour?'

The way he says this proves he cannot imagine anyone taking Lady de Bourgh seriously, can it truly be that her entire staff, or at least its senior members, merely suffer the lady's mood as if indulging a child having temper tantrums? Fortunately, Mr Collins does not seem to pick up on his, he replies deadly seriously, though it obviously costs him in dignity to relate his humiliating position to a servant.

'She was, Mr Hughes. Isn't my humiliation at her hands common knowledge then? Haven't all of you heard how she browbeats me into cowering fear?'

They must know, but still Hughes shakes his head and observes, 'I have seen and heard nothing of it. I've heard you had a row, of course, but she has those with everyone, we thought nothing of it. Does she indeed frighten you?'

Now Mr Collins is brutally honest and confesses, 'So much so that I have totally disgraced myself before her several times. If not for Mr Fowler here I would have resigned today. He advises me to find support among you instead.'

'But Mr Collins, it's all just words and threats, she is an old lady, she makes noise but she never does anything. Well, expect send that bullyboy after Miss Anne, that one time, but usually she cools down quickly and life goes on. You must not resign, you'll never get a position like this again, and you have your little boy to think of. Why don't you come to the back of the house tonight after dark, and we'll talk. Just you, me and Peyton, the steward. We'll sort this out for you, it's not that hard. Or would you prefer we come here?'

They should not show him their drawing-room until he has grown some courage, better warn Hughes. But all in all this is going pretty well, Nick's friendship with Anne forgotten, his host's friendship with his colleagues started.

'We'll come here, and your lady wife can hear what we have to say as well. There is nothing to it really, it's just a trick, living with Lady de Bourgh. We indulge her whims and live as pleases us, it's as easy as that. See you tonight, we'll be here at eight.

Fowler, thank you for being patient with the mistress, and especially for taking such good care of Miss de Bourgh. It's obvious she trusts you very much. I believe you when you say her fiancée is a good man, but still I'd like to entreat you to keep taking care of her, even when she is married. There seems to be a special connection between the two of you, and Miss Anne needs to be loved after what happened here. So many gentlemen only think of hunting and business and friends.'

'Not Mr Manners, I assure you. If everyone wasn't going to Pemberley come Monday you could read it in the papers. Now you'll just have to take my word for it, Miss de Bourgh and Mr Manners are like peas in a pod, very close. And of course I will take care of her, too, it's my job after all to make certain she is safe.'

And he will throw in the love for free. But that is none of Hughes' business, and even less of Mr Collins'. Let him deal with his own De Bourgh lady, Hughes will tell him how to do that.

After they leave Anne's things in the hall, Mr Collins takes leave of Hughes and goes back to his garden, his mood improved already. While Nick stays in the hall for a few moments and talks to Lady de Bourgh's guard and warns him to keep certain secrets from Mr Collins until he has proven able to withstand his mistress' moods. Hughes does not allude to Nick's close bond with Anne again, but it is clear he suspects more is going on between the two of them. Hopefully he is more sensitive than others, or maybe he knows Anne better, Nick is trying so hard to hide his love for Anne, if it's out there for anyone to see he is in big trouble. Another hour and they will be back on the road to London, and everyone will soon forget Miss de Bourgh's quick visit.

Georgiana refuses to be nervous. No really, after Frederick's speech yesterday how powerful the Prince of Wales is, and how they should not be tempted to be familiar with him even if he seems to invite informality, she has plenty of reason to feel nervous, even frightened. But she will not. For though few things are more impressive than an audience with the second-most-important man in the country, waking up beside the sweetest and handsomest man in the world certainly is. He is also awake but as lazy as she is, too lazy even to stroke her or kiss her, they merely watch each other in bliss. Until Georgiana's hand can no longer control itself and strokes his stubbled cheek, and his throat, and his lovely firm chest. As if that releases something in him as well, they find themselves kissing with ardour, and stroking all kinds of sensitive places, until their heat overcomes their laziness and they make love with an abandonment they have never known before.

Too bad Eric has to stop for a moment to see to his protection, but Georgiana knows he still has his iron discipline, he will not risk his beloved by taking her to the continent in any stage of pregnancy. Their ardour will keep for a few minutes.

Afterwards, it is again impossible to be nervous, making love always leaves both of them drained and sated, and bonelessly relaxed, a state they have rarely experienced in their lives before marriage. They have always been driven by ambition, and though they still have the ambition, the driving force behind it is now of a more mature, calm kind instead of the insistent urge it used to be. Urges no longer seem to exist now they are truly one.

'Do you want to bring tuning materials along? The little black piano seems to keep its tone perfectly, but I'd rather not take a risk.'

'You could never go out without them, Eric. And not just for our wedding present, I know this is the Prince of Wales we're playing for, but who can guarantee he doesn't use an incompetent tuner? His own piano may be slightly off-key and you know you'll want to play your practice piece and a few sonatas.'

He nods, and kisses her again, he is so beautiful and he loves her so much.

'You are the best thing that ever happened to me, my love,' he says, knowing it is a platitude but true nonetheless. It feels the same for her, all the platitudes about everlasting love seem to have come true.

'I know. I feel the same about you.'

'You were my first love, Georgiana, I can't imagine what it would be like for a woman to make love with a man like Nick Fowler, who has had scores of women. I suppose he would be very skilled, like Pierre.'

Eric sounds partly scandalised, partly envious. He values skill above all else, but hopefully not in the matter of loving.

'I guess a man like that would be skilled, but I think I prefer exploring love together. With Pierre's tales to help us we have such an advantage, I suppose experience isn't everything, taking time for each other must be as important.'

'You don't think practice makes perfect? It does in almost everything else.'

'Even learning to play the piano only succeeds if your heart is in it, Eric, if you want to improve. And suppose you'd try a different piece on a different piano every day, you'd never truly understand any of them. Don't you think it's the same with men and women? That you need to get to know each other to really learn to love?'

'I suppose you're right, you might learn the techniques but not the feeling. Well, you have convinced me, it's the love that counts. Even in music. So why don't we dress and express our love to our little piano? Get to know it? With a familiar piece?'

'There is nothing I'd prefer to do. I can recall every minute of your concerto, but I've never played it. I think it's time you taught me romantic music.'

And soon they are once again too busy to be nervous.

When the clock strikes three, Elizabeth has not come home yet, and Darcy actually seems glad she is late. Actually, she is not late, they do not expect the party to return until four, but Frederick truly hopes she will arrive just in time to join Eric and Georgiana, and consent to do so. He doesn't even really know why, he just has a feeling it is important that she accompanies her sister and brother to Carlton House, even though she is naturally outspoken while Eric and Georgiana are always polite. But people, especially intelligent men much older than herself, seem to like her a lot, she will make an excellent impression on the Prince.

The little black piano has already been carefully hoisted onto Frederick's own carriage, it's larger and sturdier than Darcy's, that tiny thing would topple with the added weight. Bates has tied down the instrument really well, it should be safe to travel across town.

His talented friends are incredibly relaxed considering the circumstances, maybe he is exaggerating, maybe they have the rights of it and it's merely another concert in a perfectly decorated private home. But it's so very important!

It's almost enough to make a fellow jealous, witnessing the love between them, for everyone to see. It hasn't exactly deepened with their marriage, they always were as close as this. It's just a bit different, more mature somehow. Does that only come with a marriage? Will his own relationship with Simon always stay in its infancy? And Anne's? Has he doomed her to live half a life?

No, he hasn't. Anne is happy, it's just that her love for Nick started between the sheets, so to speak, as did his with Simon. They never had that simpering stage, in which all they were allowed to do was gaze in each other's eyes. Their love is as mature as Eric's and Georgiana's, it just never had a junior stage. Nevertheless there will always be moments of regret that they cannot show their love openly, but everyone's life has these little nuisances. In their own case there is plenty of compensation.

The sound of a large team approaching pulls Darcy towards the window facing the road, and Frederick follows, readying himself to plead with Elizabeth to obey the Prince of Wales' orders. It is indeed the Darcy's carriage, the four thoroughbreds a lot less feisty than usual. They must have made some speed.

As Bob helps his beloved Fanny down from the box, then moves to the tired horses, from his position by the window Frederick can see Nick holding the door for the ladies and Dora. As Johnson greets his mistress, Frederick notices Darcy is missing by his side, he is already on his way to greet his beloved, and maybe beg her not to see the Prince, not to risk catching his attention. Darcy would do well to trust his young wife as much as she deserves, or there may be trouble in store for him.

He rushes downstairs a little faster than is strictly dignified, just in time to hear Elizabeth say calmly, 'Of course I will go with your sister and Eric, who wouldn't want to see the inside of Carlton House? It's reputed to be a veritable palace, though I suppose we'll only get to see the music room. Never mind, my love, I'll be back in a few hours, you will survive. Why don't you go do something brash yourself, Fitzwilliam? I'm sure Nick knows some really shocking places to visit.'

She snuggles against her tall husband to reassure him, he really is handling this badly, it's just a concert!

'How much time do I have to freshen up a little? I suppose Georgiana and Eric are all ready to go?

Fitzwilliam, truly, there is nothing to worry about. I'm a country girl with a clever mouth and competent staff, not a sophisticated, educated gentlewoman of rank. I assure you that a prince is not as easily impressed as a newspaper reporter. Compared to Mrs Fitzherbert I am a schoolgirl, and I know it and will behave accordingly.'

She throws a single glance at Frederick, a plea for help. She wants to do this, and not out of duty but out of curiosity, the best reason to obey a future king's summons.

'I'm afraid you have a mere twenty minutes, Elizabeth. Let me call Fanny, your dress will have to do, there is only time for a quick wash and some accessories.

Darcy, you're coming with me, I had a plan for some amusement and it may as well be today. Fanny! And Nick!'

As the two come towards him instantly, Darcy gives up and releases his wife to freshen up before her audience. He looks positively forlorn, but that won't be for long. Frederick will shake him up, and fulfil a promise made to Anne, Nick and Mr Blackwood at the same time.

'Fanny, can you prepare your mistress for an audience with the Prince of Wales in let's say...ten minutes? And Nick, remember the outing I suggested for your mistresses? As a kind of goodbye? Let's try to make it work today, we'll leave as soon as Miss de Bourgh can change in her least conspicuous dress, and I'll send someone to Mr Blackwood and to you-know-whom. And wear that coat, it's very becoming.'

He still has what it takes, the only person not springing into action is Darcy, he is rather overcome by his beloved leaving him right after her long-expected arrival. But Elizabeth does not leave him like that, she talks to Fanny, who rushes off through the front door, then embraces her husband, taking her sweet time. She should be inside being made ready, apparently she is not as sensitive to Frederick's suggestion as he thought.

Darcy's carriage moves towards the stables and Bates drives up with Frederick's, as Georgiana and Eric step outside, Eric of course with his ever-present leather case with sheet music, tuning instruments and other essentials. Elizabeth also takes her time greeting them! What is she thinking, that she can keep the heir to the throne of Britain waiting because she has been away from home for a single night? She does look very pretty, she must have taken time to dress that morning, Frederick cannot imagine what for since they were travelling, even a short trip is more convenient with comfortable clothes. But ladies' wear is much more comfortable anyway than what their valets force their masters into, stiff collars, tight coats, intricately tied cravats. Like the one Eric is wearing now.

Before Frederick can work up the courage to address Elizabeth on her tardiness, Fanny comes running out, carrying a fancy little case.

'Aren't you going to greet me properly, Frederick?' a gentle voice reprimands him. 'You know the house is being watched, if you want the people to believe in our marriage you will have to at least kiss me.'

It's Anne, he has totally forgotten about her! And with total sincerity he takes her in a tender embrace and kisses her lovingly, more intimately than he has ever before. It's a bit of a risk but it turns out well, she actually leans into it and kisses him right back. Not too long, they're only engaged, but slightly beyond propriety, just perfect.

'Oh, Frederick,' she sighs, 'that makes up for your neglect just beautifully. I'm glad Nick decided to go with Bob to stay in his role as servant, or he'd be jealous. Now you let Elizabeth and Fanny sort out their own business, and tell me what you and Nick have been planning secretly that you dare subject Darcy to.'

Frederick cannot help checking the others, Darcy is back to normal, taking leave of his sister and her husband, and his beloved wife, who may have to fend off their future monarch's charms. The three enter the carriage, Fanny right behind. Great idea to take her along, she can tell them about the back of the house, if she is allowed inside. She may have to stay with Bates for a few hours, drivers are usually kept waiting outside on these occasions.

The carriage drives off, and Frederick takes Anne's arm familiarly towards poor Darcy, who finally remembers his cousin.

'I'm sorry, Anne, I should have greeted you long before now.'

She offers him an embrace, which he accepts quite easily, and says calmly, 'Never mind, Darcy, my own fiancée forgot about my existence in the heat of the moment. Poor Elizabeth, to be expected to entertain such an important and educated man after travelling for hours. Though I'm sure she's up to it, she is my example of what a woman should be, even though she is ever so much younger than I am. You made the right choice, Darcy, she is worth every minute you suffered over her.

But that's all in the past now, isn't it?'

'I'm so afraid she'll catch the Prince's eye, Anne. I can't lose her.'

'Oh come on, Darcy, she worships you. Nothing short of magic can make her fall for another man.'

'I'm not afraid of her choosing him over me. I'm afraid of her being forced.'

'You're not serious, are you? This is not the sixteenth century anymore, cousin, these are different times. I'm certain that among all his faults, our Heir Presumptive does not force women to be his mistress. There are plenty who choose to favour him with their gifts. And besides, I'm certain he prefers his women older and much more sophisticated. And he is almost forty and if rumour may be believed, seriously overweight and not very appealing. Frankly, I'd be more concerned about Elizabeth's ready wit getting her into trouble than her femininity, really.'

That is probably not true, if Frederick judges Prince George right he probably likes a woman with some spirit. But they are forgetting the most important safety.

'Darcy, Anne, stop speculating. Our Prince is already taken and quite firmly. Remember, according to my source in the royal family he has his mistress living with him. She will not give him the chance to fall for another woman. They will be in there for maybe two hours, of which at least one will be spent listening to music. Now stop worrying and go change to something less conspicuous, both of you. Darcy, may I suggest we use your slow team with your other carriage? It's not as pretty but neither does it stand out so much. We do not want any reporters on our tail.'

This seems to pull Darcy out of his ridiculous train of thoughts.

'What are you planning, Manners? We're not your college friends, you know.'

'Don't worry, there will be none of that, not with ladies present. We're taking the twins and their fiancées, and maybe even Mr Blackwood himself. Just some entertainment, but educational as well. If you don't trust me, trust Fowler.'

Of course that makes even Anne suspicious, she knows where Nick has taken his charges, though that was mostly their wish, not his. Still, it's very funny, and Darcy needs a little distraction most of all.


	122. Chapter 122

Chapter 132

Inside Frederick's subtly luxurious carriage, Elizabeth was in fact very pleased to have been invited along with her sister and brother. Not because of the honour, but because she wanted to keep an eye on both of them. They were both so young, Georgiana for real, and Eric in the ways of the world. If the Prince of Wales liked their music and wanted to keep them in town, they would not be able to refuse, and they needed some time together to consolidate their bond without people interfering. And she meant to have them out of Carlton House again in at most three hours, in time for the show tonight. Of course she realised she would also have to be polite to such an important man, but somehow men of power liked her, wanted to please her. She did not expect the Prince to be different from Earl Spencer and his friends, he would appreciate her sense of humour without being attracted to her. Imagine Fitzwilliam being afraid of that, and here she'd thought he was over his jealousy.

As Fanny brushed her hair and put it up in a more elaborate style, then applied some powder to her face and fastened one of the Newcastle colliers, the amber-coloured one, around her neck, Elizabeth entertained Eric and Georgiana with tales of Mr and Mrs Collins, not forgetting Lady Catherine's action.

'You are making this up to keep us from being nervous!' Georgiana said, 'Mrs Collins did not say that about her husband in the bedroom, did she?'

She was laughing in an embarrassed way, as was Fanny.

'Take care, ma'am,' the latter blurted out, 'you're making me laugh, and I'm afraid to make a mess of your powder. And your cousin a minister,' she dared add. Of course her mother had raised Fanny to be an epitome of propriety, and it would take more than her mistress spilling embarrassing tales to spoil that righteous woman's hard work. Or would it?

'I'm glad I married Bob and not a man like that. Bob has a stronger will than one might think, but he is always gentle. I suppose that is why he is so good with the master's horses.'

As he was with dear Fanny, that was obvious. For her to join in a conversation without having been asked a direct question was a miracle, she had been gaining confidence since becoming a married woman.

Elizabeth decided to pour a little oil on the flames of their conversation, though Eric was starting to show some signs of embarrassment being the only male present. He had to be worried that his sister-in-law's exuberant manner would cause trouble later, during their audience. Of course Elizabeth planned to keep a firm hold of her sense of humour then, all the more reason to let it out now.

'She most certainly did tell me those things, in so much detail I almost begged her to stop. But I'm her only friend, you see, and it was clear she very much wanted to tell someone how her Will had changed. So I listened and tried not to picture my cousin at it, either then or now.'

'Elizabeth,' Eric now said, laughing as she had rarely seen him laugh before, 'suddenly I realise you're barely of age. I cannot wait to spend the summer with you, without all of us having to act properly. We'll all behave like children and no-one will find out.'

'I'm afraid you haven't met Mrs Reynold yet, Eric,' Georgiana interjected, 'our housekeeper at Pemberley. We can misbehave, but if she catches us at it she will look in a certain way and make us feel very much ashamed. Still, I guess she cannot be everywhere at once.'

By now, Elizabeth guessed Fanny must be nearly done, which was for the best since on both sides of the carriage the city had made way for green. It must be St James' Park, Elizabeth had heard it was very close to Carlton House, and she hoped they would get to see it from a little closer than through the carriage window. It was a beautiful park, though rather narrow, but of course this was the very centre of town.

Soon, the park was just on the one side and the sight on the other side pulled her attention away from the trees, it was a grand street with capital buildings. The palace where the King held court, St James', was supposed to be very close. Then they rounded the corner and there it was, at the end of this street, a beautiful though old-fashioned red brick building, the palace where King George received his public audiences. But that was not where they were going, the carriage passed the noble building and approached another more modern and even more grand one. It was unmistakably Carlton House, their newspaper had often placed sketches of it and reported on the debaucheries supposedly going on there, and the amount of money being spent on entertainment and lavish decorations. The facade was huge, with an enormous pillared front. Of course Bates did not halt the carriage there but took a turn to the right to reach the back of the building. How did drivers know these things? Like where the right entrance was for their master's level of society?

Now Elizabeth could see a liveried servant giving directions, they were expected of course, and the piano strapped to the back of the carriage was a giveaway to who they were. Bates very neatly guided Frederick's team into a narrow walkway leading towards the back of the house, apparently he was being led there by someone for it was not an obvious path for a carriage to take. Elizabeth hoped he would manage to get it back to the road after the piano had been unloaded.

The back of the grand house was also grand, the garden was huge to London standards and a typical example of a landscape garden. She would have expected a man like the Prince of Wales to have either the latest fashion, which would be oriental design, or a traditional French garden. But maybe the garden hadn't been redone yet, though it was obviously kept up well it might not be the Prince's priority. The interior of Carlton House was reputed to be very rich and in the latest fashion, Elizabeth hoped they would get to see some of it though she guessed they were not important enough for a tour, not even from a servant, since those were reputed to be mostly men of rank themselves. Well, they would soon find out for the carriage had halted, men's voices were sounding behind her, where the little black piano had been secured for transport.

As the door of the carriage opened, Elizabeth could see the servant holding it for them. He was wearing a priceless livery and white sateen gloves, and she really started to believe that this handsome young man might be a gentleman of excellent breeding. Better watch her manners.

Darcy could not believe he was letting Frederick kidnap him to some harebrained form of entertainment, but secretly he was quite pleased to be included with the young crowd this once. And he could certainly use the distraction, imagine his beloved in the lion's den, a notable philanderer's wicked household, and on special invitation! She'd seemed rather eager to go, should he be worried?

A knock on the door caused Darcy to wonder who might be looking for him, and he called out to enter. It was Simon, and he was not as comfortable as he used to be in Darcy's room.

'Mr Darcy, Frederick asked me to help you to dress down a little. Do you mind?'

'I don't, Simon. I have no idea where we are going so I have no clue what is appropriate. I'll gladly have your help, I've gotten used to having you assisting me again. I'll miss you, though I suppose there will be little reason to dress up once we're at Pemberley.'

Simon smiled slightly sadly.

'I'll miss you, too, sir, but I agree there wouldn't be much to do for me at Pemberley. You can always hire a new man if you decide to spend winter in town next year.'

'Since you're no longer in my service, do you think you could do without the sir and just call me Darcy? I don't think I could get used to another man but I suppose there will be times when I have to. Though I'm glad you're finally happy, Simon, please don't get me wrong.'

Simon, meanwhile, had been rummaging through Darcy's wardrobe and came up with a rather formal coat in muted brown. It was not the type of coat he'd still wear, ever since he'd married an icon of fashion he tried to be worthy of accompanying her, and it should have been thrown out, but it had hardly been worn, it would be wasteful to discard it. Maybe he could use it to hunt, though it was probably a little too tight for sports.

'This is perfect, ...' Simon could not yet get himself to be informal with his former master, but didn't want to go against his wish either. He'd get used to it. 'It looks expensive but it's totally different from what you usually wear. May I use a black cravat this once? I think it'll look ravishing on you, you're such a handsome man. Isn't it strange how I used to admire you and now I'm in love with a much plainer man and I don't mind one bit.'

'I suppose you like your men powerful and dominant, Simon. Strong, not necessarily beautiful. And I don't think Manners is that plain looking since you've taken over his personal care. It was those dull colours that didn't do him any service, he looks much better in the clothes you've chosen for him. And yes, I'd love to try one of those black cravats, I'm afraid I am a rather vain man after all. But I have to, to keep up with my beautiful wife.'

'You were vain long before you met her, sir.'

Simon was already removing Darcy's white cravat and coat, smiling over his own cheek. But he was right, and they would miss him very much, such a fine servant and an excellent man. Ten minutes later Darcy felt like a different character, his own clothes combined to make him seem a successful businessman rather than a landed gentleman.

'Are you coming, too?' he asked Simon. The latter's face showed clearly it had never even occurred to his former valet to expect being invited, but why not? They were obviously going somewhere unsuitable for a gentleman anyway.

'Nick Fowler is coming, isn't he?'

Now Simon showed himself shy and stubborn at the same time, by protesting rather strongly, in obvious embarrassment.

'But he's Miss Anne's guard, he is supposed to go where she goes!'

'That's nonsense and you know it, Simon! Manners told him to keep on his fitted coat, not to wear his livery. His being her guard is just an excuse to keep him close. One extra man in a large group will excite no-one's attention. Better get used to it now.'

Poor Simon, still a servant at heart. He dropped his eyes and admitted, 'I'd really like to come, if you think it's no problem.'

'Of course not, you should be there. I wonder why Manners didn't think of it himself. You must feel excluded rather often.'

And Simon could not help showing it, it was true.

'I do. I know it's my own choice to be with someone above me, but everyone, even Nick, is invited to these occasions except me. Sometimes I wonder whether I should have stuck to my own layer of society.'

And before Darcy could comment on that Simon's voice changed to cheerful as he observed, 'Well, you look just about perfect for the place where you are going. I'd like to have you wear spectacles, but we don't have any in the house so this will have to do.'

'Thank you, Simon. I'll talk to Manners if you want me to.'

'My pleasure, sir, and I guess I'll bring it up myself. He does love me, you know, a lot. Worships me, almost, though I guess that is my beauty most of all.'

'Of course not, Simon. It's just like myself and Elizabeth: I love to admire her beauty, but it's her mind I truly worship. Though a beautiful wrapping certainly makes her even more desirable.'

'You are right of course. He always tells me I can work miracles. Anyway, sir, I suppose they may be waiting for you already. Thank you for caring, you've always been the best master a man could have. Handsome, rich, away from home a lot...'

And with that droll remark he left Darcy by himself, he might be unable to be familiar with his former master, he no longer waited to be dismissed either. He was his own man, though he did feel left out apparently.

But when they gathered in the hall a few minutes later, Simon was waiting with the rest, wearing a regular coat with his usual pantaloons. He was very handsome indeed, and he would undoubtedly drop a large hint to Manners any moment now that the latter should make an effort to hide his feelings a lot better. For that gentleman, now also looking like a wealthy trader, could not help gazing at his beloved in stunned admiration. And indeed, if someone were to address the party gathered here, Manners, Anne, Fowler, Simon and himself, they'd probably think Simon was their leader. Apparently his best coat was excellent indeed.

But it was not Simon who acted, surprisingly it was Fowler, Darcy could see him approaching his new employer almost diffidently, but he did touch Manners' sleeve and said something, after which Manners instantly wiped his bemused expression off his face. It changed to his usual open look, but without the authority that so seemed to characterise Manners. This man was milder, though that might be Darcy's knowing Manners' real nature: most people would call him kind and mild, it was knowing him better that had revealed his iron will to his friends. Even to his college friends, in fact they had felt it more often than his current company. But somehow not Fowler, he seemed to bring out his new master's mildest side.

'Thank you, Nick. Although we're on a pleasure trip today will you please keep an eye on me? I cannot afford to be found out. None of us can, but you're used to being in public with Anne, whereas I've rarely seen Simon like this.'

His voice was so soft as to be almost inaudible. Darcy could clearly see that Fowler was at work no matter what Manners might say. He would not reveal his affection for Anne, that was a certainty.

Once in the carriage, Nick decided to seek out Simon's company. He was way too much in awe of Mr Darcy to sit next to that gentleman or talk to him, let Anne do that, he was her cousin. And Mr Manners should not sit with Simon until he had mastered his feelings, it was difficult to see a whole new side to one's beloved in public. Nick had never seen either of them show any sign of affection towards the other, Simon's sudden presence in their group and dressed so much smarter than usual must have surprised Mr Manners into revealing his feelings so obviously. Kind of cute to see this side of him, enough so to make Nick dare point it out to him.

So now Nick sat next to Simon on an outing for the very first time, but hopefully not the last by far.

'Thanks for interfering, Nick. I didn't notice, I'm not as comfortable in this company as you seem to be. And anyway, if I'd addressed Frederick he'd only been tempted to kiss me, you wouldn't want to witness two men kissing. Though you've accepted the two of us much better than I dared hope.'

'You'll get used to being together in public. And he did look rather endearing, lost in adulation like that. I don't think I'd mind seeing you two kiss, Simon, I'm starting to get used to the idea I suppose. But it would be a bad habit to form, and very dangerous. Anne and I were almost caught yesterday evening, by Mrs Collins.'

And he told Simon what happened. Before long, the others were listening in and Anne added her side of the story.

'So you were needed after all, Fowler, I'm glad Manners and I gave you our full support to use force if necessary. Though I'm sure Elizabeth can handle my aunt all by herself.'

Mr Darcy looked proud as a peacock over his pert little wife's courage, and Nick was glad to have been told the tale of their love, it was so incredibly romantic. This proud, handsome man reduced to physical illness by a spurned love. It was the complete opposite from how Nick used to experience love, but Mr Darcy was so earnest, it didn't surprise Nick one bit he'd be as intense in his love. It would take a remarkable woman to be able to receive such love, and remarkable Mrs Darcy certainly was.

'Thank you, Mr Darcy. I dare admit I felt very powerful being backed by both you and Mr Manners. Of course Lady de Bourgh thought me insolent.'

Soon both Nick and Simon were a lot more comfortable, but before they could settle they had reached the Blackwood mansion, where Mr Blackwood begged to be allowed to sit with the adults and Anne offered to relinquish her seat to him.

'You should go, too, Nick, it's your last outing with the girls,' Mr Blackwood observed, 'just look at you, you look so handsome in your new coat.'

Then he seemed to realise Nick was no longer in his service.

'Oh, I'm sorry, Mr Manners, here I am ordering poor Nick about while he isn't even mine to command.'

Nick didn't mind, the world was supposed to believe he was just Miss de Bourgh's guard, but Mr Manners seemed to feel rather embarrassed. He smiled at the older gentleman and said mildly, 'Never mind, Mr Blackwood, I'm certain Nick knows you meant well.'

That was all well and good, but what was he supposed to do? Mr Manners knew Nick preferred a set of clear orders over having to make his own decisions, at least in a situation like this. He was doing it on purpose, proving that to him Nick really was his own man and allowed, even expected, to make his own choice. Of course he wanted to go with Anne and sit with the young people, but what about Simon?

'Will you come with me, Nick?'

There was no way he could refuse Anne anything, let alone when she asked so gently, so kindly. She knew this was hard for him and she wanted to help. But what about Simon? He looked at his friend earnestly.

'I'll be fine, Nick, we'll see each other daily. Go sit with your mistresses.'

Simon seemed to have found some acceptance of the situation, of course Mr Manners had made space for Mr Blackwood and was now sitting right next to him, where he must want him the most. But Mr Blackwood would feel a little guilty for separating him from his good friend Nick, just perfect. Nick followed Anne out of the carriage, certain they'd have a perfect last time with Angelina and Sophie and their fiancées. The colonel was a bit intimidating, but Anne would be there and she was his beloved relative.

But both Anne and Nick were in for an uncomfortable ride, for instead of Colonel Compton they found Lieutenant Talbot sitting inside! Nick's shock at seeing the man he used to consider his competition for Anne's affection could only be dwarfed by hers, and he very nearly took her hand to support her. But it could not be, she would have to weather this all by herself, and frankly, so would the lieutenant, who had an even worse time. Though he must have known Anne would be there, why did he come?

'The colonel couldn't make it, Anne, so he sent Lieutenant Talbot.'

Was it because the colonel wasn't there that Sophie greeted him like a long-lost lover instead of a former servant, and a rather strict one at that?

'Nick, I can't wait to see what you have arranged for us. Papa said it was Mr Manners' outing, but I'm certain it's yours, isn't it?'

In fact, Nick would never have dared take the girls where they were going, though it had crossed his mind and he had suggested it to Mr Manners. But even if he'd dared, he didn't have the connections to gain admission. No, it was truly Mr Manners who had arranged everything.

'I'm sorry to disappoint you, Miss Sophie, but this is indeed Mr Manners' arrangement. You'll soon see why.'

He now greeted the others respectfully, but neither of the men acknowledged his deference, they returned his greeting as if he was their equal, and the lieutenant invited Nick to sit with him. This would be interesting. Anne joined both sisters, hopefully relieved to not have to talk with the lieutenant. Now Anne was his, Nick felt sorry for the man, he was kind after all, and soon he felt even more for the poor fellow.

As the carriage set off and Angelina and Sophie chattered to Anne, Lieutenant Talbot started to talk to Nick in a soft voice.

'I'm very sorry to bother Miss de Bourgh with my presence, do you mind if I stay close to you? To spare her anxiety? Colonel Compton did send me, you know, said I had to apologise to his cousin but mostly to talk to you. He wants me to convince you to consider life in the army, he seems to think you're wasted on a job as a guard. Says you could make good money in His Majesty's service. And he is right, he is offering you a unique chance, very few men are given the chance to rise in the ranks, he must really think highly of you. Officers' positions are coveted you know, fathers pay good money for their sons to get a commission. And he is offering it to you just like that, because I said you handled a gun well and I suppose because you protected Miss Anne from that kidnapper.'

He looked in agony, the poor man, talking of Anne. She was forever out of his reach, being engaged to a rich and powerful landed gentleman. Did the lieutenant know Anne didn't love her fiancée? He certainly didn't know it was Nick she was sleeping with, though Nick was afraid he had shown his feelings for her too openly that fateful night at the concert. Nick could not help it, he had to ask.

'How have you been, Lieutenant?'

Lieutenant Talbot seemed almost eager to talk, still in a very low voice.

'It's been bad, Fowler, and worse because I dishonoured myself exposing her to public censure. She could hardly control herself, she felt so bad for me. And I'm afraid I pushed her into this marriage to Mr Manners, I just hope she won't regret it. She told me she wanted to be free, then why marry a man like him? I don't know how you can stand it, being around her all the time, knowing your love is as hopeless as mine. Better join us, Fowler, life as an officer is good, there'll be hardly any time to think of our loss.

Don't look at me like that, Fowler, I saw you watching her, a mirror image of myself in my helpless adulation. Don't torture yourself!'

Oh my God, this had the potential to become an unimaginable drama, he would have to lie, and lie convincingly. And hope what he said didn't reach the wrong ears. Pulling himself together he swallowed his apprehension and stated boldly, 'You are mistaken, Lieutenant Talbot, I'm not hopelessly in love with Miss de Bourgh.'

Not hopeless as the lieutenant meant it anyway.

'I'm incredibly flattered you all see a future for me in His Majesty's service, but I'm actually very pleased to have landed a nice easy job attending to Mr Manners' fiancée. I like being among the higher classes, I used to be very popular among Mrs Blackwood's lady friends, and I'm hoping to scale up a little, so to speak. Imagine the ladies in Mr Manners' circle!'

And he put all the innuendo he could manage into his voice and posture, almost ashamed of himself, and hoping Anne wouldn't hear him, though she'd understand.

And it worked, he could see that the lieutenant believed him, his mind undoubtedly already imagining specific ladies of Mr Manners' acquaintance who might fancy a sturdy low-born lover. As long as he was distracted from remembering Nick's look of despair and loss that one fateful time at the concert.

Lieutenant Talbot slowly nodded in understanding, but when he spoke it was with surprise.

'I didn't know ladies did that. You know, cuckold their husbands. I know men do, of course, staying true to one woman must be very hard, but I thought women were different. It must be a certain kind of lady, Miss de Bourgh would never give in to lust, she is as beautiful as an angel and as pure. And yet she will marry such a man, the things my valet says are going on in Mr Manners' house, and he heard it from the man's own driver. Poor Miss Anne.'

Then his eyes narrowed and he looked straight at Nick.

'Is that what he hired you for? To lure ladies to do his bidding?'

Time for Nick to earn his wages, the first time but probably not the last.

'Certainly not. I assure you, Mr Manners is the respectable man he seems to be. He would never tempt a lady to forget her vows. He hired me to protect his future wife from any kind of danger, which is what I will do. Anything else I will do in my spare time, and for my own entertainment only.'

Like making love to Anne until she lost all resemblance to a pure angel in wanton abandonment, rubbing herself against him, urging him to do it to her as hard as he could, paying special attention to his most sensitive parts until he saw spots in front of his eyes. An angel indeed, if Nick had learned anything in all his years of philandering it was that women were people, too, not a higher form of life incapable of sin. That was a very romantic view, but harmful as well, and Nick was glad all over again that his beloved was safe from this fanciful admirer and all those like him. He would not have made Anne happy, Nick did.

By now, they had reached their destination, an old church attached to a hospital. No-one would ever expect what was going on in the garret of the stately church, though rumours abounded throughout the city of the practice, and there was a public version of what they were about to see. But Mr Manners, paragon of respectability for the good people of London, could not be seen chasing after a cheap thrill. Though it was supposed to be very educational as well.

Fortunately they had plenty of men to support the ladies in case they were overcome by the sights before them, though if Nick was bluntly honest, he expected Mr Blackwood to be the only one likely to be overwhelmed. Angelina and Sophie had witnessed a public hanging, never a pretty sight, mixed in with a crowd of unwashed commoners. They could handle some sights and smells. Anne had proven herself in Nick's own ordeal, taking care of him when he was severely injured, a sheltered maiden not shying away from even his most intimate parts, covered in blood and bruises.

The two officers must have seen action already, they should be fine. That left Simon and Mr Darcy, both strong-minded men, but one could never tell. Even Mr Manners might be overcome, though those rumours had enough of a base of truth to make it likely he had seen his share of debauchery.

The carriage had stopped, they were about to find out. It would be a worthy last outing, that much was certain!

Well, whatever the rank of the prince's staff, they were certainly efficient. Before Georgiana had left the carriage, four men in common clothes had freed the little piano and were smoothly carrying it towards the back of the house. The palace, she was tempted to say, for though she had seen her share of grand houses she expected this to be the most lavishly decorated yet.

Eric wasn't worried over the instrument, he was talking politely to their liveried attendant. Judging from his bearing and accent he was indeed someone of rank, but he hadn't introduced himself so they could not be certain. Just being polite to him had to suffice to make a good impression, it was all they could do even towards the Prince of Wales himself after all.

Once they rounded the side of the building and passed through an opening in a tall brick wall, people stopped being of importance for a moment as they found themselves in a huge landscaped garden. They were standing on a sandstone terrace with an elegantly carved balustrade of the same sandstone separating them from the lawn beyond. That lawn was the size of the largest theatre they'd seen so far, and it was a vivid green even this early in spring, after a rather cold winter. Beyond the lawn, a meadow scattered with magnificent solitary trees reached as far as the eye could see, which was pretty far for a London garden. In the distance, a wall separated the gardens from the public park. This wall supposedly went all around the plot, but in most places it was obscured by a line of trees, and in one place by the obligatory classic temple, probably without a real life hermit living in it since the Prince of Wales was reputed to be supremely intelligent. He could think up the answers to life's questions all by himself or together with his equally gifted friends. The beautiful wrought-iron seats covered in climbing roses that could be seen closer to the house would be a perfect place to discuss philosophy or art.

The magnificent solitary trees scattered across the meadows and the lawn were undoubtedly of some curious foreign species, not that Georgiana would know. She'd drawn and painted many of them at Pemberley, but never wondered what kind they were. Though it was disconcerting to have someone trying to imitate the feel of an English manor on a plot this size, Georgiana could not but admit it was admirably done, and she could almost forget the presence of a city of millions all around her.

The men carrying the piano entered the house after having a set of beautiful French doors opened for them, and their own party followed, though slowly, since Elizabeth did not move at her usual brisk pace, she was distracted by the sight of the garden and was clearly aching to explore it. Hopefully in the right company, not the Prince of Wales, unless he was accompanied by a suitable entourage. Well, there was nothing Georgiana could do to influence such a man, all she could do was prepare for her second public appearance and try to keep her nerves controlled. But Elizabeth was an adult and a very smart one, she would do just fine even among courtiers.

By now they were entering a large room, about three times the size of their drawing-room in London, through the large ornamental French doors opening to the garden. The room was bright, with windows on three sides, draped in scarlet silk. The scarlet of the drapes returned in the covering of the exquisitely carved chairs standing against the opposite wall and the magnificent patterned carpet covering the floor from wall to wall. The huge space was broken by a series of marble columns, and Georgiana wondered why one would place such obstacles right in the middle of a room. They were beautiful, and must have cost a fortune, but they did break up the room rather abruptly. Still, some people found a reason to place a few priceless columns anywhere.

The walls and ceiling were an ivory colour, ornamented with gold, and the flat centre of the ceiling was low for the size of the room and the fortune of its owner, and it was painted with scenes from Greek antiquity, many of them involving music, of course, and none of them censored. Gods and goddesses, fauns and satyrs, nymphs and sylphs all displayed their natural assets quite openly. Their inhuman ones too, for that matter.

The room was as bare of furniture as Eric's room at Mr Zumpe's house, there were the scarlet chairs against all the walls, but no tables or a buffet. A large hearth, several chandeliers, a few decently sized paintings. And a very large piano and a smaller harpsichord at the end of the space, and the little black piano added to the group already. Georgiana's attention for the décor vanished instantly and she joined Eric at the grand piano. Their own black piano was barely larger than the harpsichord, but its sound was almost as unique. They'd done well to bring it, for the grand piano was indeed of Italian make and it sounded light and gay.

Forgetting all about where they were and whom they were about to meet, they performed Eric's ritual to explore a new piano together for the first time. They managed to look up when someone entered the room, and Georgiana barely registered Elizabeth talking to a beautifully dressed woman in her forties. Introducing herself or even addressing the newcomer did not occur to her at all, nor did the woman initiate an introduction.

'Georgiana, Eric? Mrs Fitzherbert has offered me a tour of the garden, we will be back in half an hour. You'll be just fine, won't you?'

'Certainly, Elizabeth, we'll have to hurry to be ready within half an hour, but we'll manage. Enjoy that beautiful garden!'

Good, Eric had already answered. It was so convenient to finally be married.

What were they doing here? It was a church, of all places, what kind of unconventional entertainment was to be found in a church? Darcy knew the Miss Blackwood's idea of amusing was at best shady, and Manners would try to outdo anything Fowler had ever arranged for those girls. It had to be spectacular.

They gathered by an inconspicuous door at the side of the church, and they were expected for it opened quickly and a flamboyantly dressed man, obviously not a clergyman, urged them to come in quickly, in a Scottish accent. This man was someone of rank and reputation, and Darcy was sure that whatever he was doing here was not entirely legal or they would have spent some time on formal introductions, not be hushed inside. Just incredible what Manners could get done, for Darcy was also quite certain his friend's connections had enabled them to get in here. Nor was he altogether certain he wanted to be here, but it did keep his mind off Elizabeth at Carlton House.

The Scotsman led them up a dusty stairs that went on and on, until they had to be as high as the tower. But that proved not to be the case, when they finally stopped climbing and passed through a rough pine door barely high enough for a tall man like Darcy, they entered a large space lighted by lamps. It was a garret, and it didn't smell musty as it should, but rather of a mixture of herbs. One his eyes were used to the low light he could see the beams supporting the roof of the church high above them, and there were wooden storage racks all around, row upon row of them like a library but with drawers and open spaces filling the shelves instead of books.

Darcy heard his boot crushing something dry and brittle, and he bent down and picked it up. It was the dried and empty head of a poppy plant, now crushed, and judging from the sounds around him there were more lying about. They walked on until they reached what he estimated was the centre of the garret, lighted very well with large lamps hung from the beams overhead. Chairs were set up in a semi-circle as if it was a theatre, though no more than about ten. There was no stage, just a marble-topped table slightly higher than usual, and much longer than it was wide. Next to the table was a much smaller table with drawers, covered with a rough cloth. It most likely held attributes for whatever performance would take place on the marble slab.

An uncomfortable feeling took hold of Darcy as several dots connected in his mind, the hospital adjacent to the church, the opium and other herbs stored in this garret, the excellent lighting, much too bright for a magic show, the table with utensils, their Scottish host.

Right at that moment, said character turned around and motioned them to take place on the chairs. Darcy decided in a split second to sit next to Simon, who had taken the outermost chair on the left side. His former valet might need some support if Darcy was correct in his surmise of what they were going to see, and he could not seek it where he was most likely to do so. Manners left nothing to chance and placed Anne between himself and Fowler, which meant Fowler was sitting next to Darcy with Anne on his other side. On Manners' other side Mr Blackwood had his mildest daughter with Lieutenant Talbot, and then Miss Angelina, the original instigator of these outrageous outings. Her fiancée, Ensign Stockford, sat most to the right. He seemed unlikely to suffer from faintness or hysteria, he really was a fitting partner for Miss Angelina, they'd undoubtedly continue these practices together once they were married.

'Ladies and gentlemen, I bid you welcome to the herb garret of St Thomas', where the apothecary stores the hospital's medicinal herbs. I gather some of you have already discovered the remains of a potent herb, the empty heads of poppy plants that were dried up here for the seeds to be used for the fabrication of painkillers.

Now tonight we are going to perform a dissection to further solve the mysteries of how children grow in the womb and how they are born. Our work may seem gruesome, but I beg you to keep in mind that it saves lives on a daily basis. One day, it may save yours, or your wife's or sister's. So please, watch in silence and learn from what we will show you and tell you. Our subject is a young woman who died of advanced consumption the day before yesterday, her unborn baby too young to try to save. She had no living relations, and I assure you that we will provide her with a Christian burial as a compensation for her contribution to the advancement of our profession, as agreed upon when she lay dying. I need not remind you this procedure is not something to discuss with just anyone, or we would not be performing it secret in an inconvenient attic.'

As if cued, two men stepped into the lighted area with a cloth-covered bier between them, a small man past middle age and a surprisingly young fellow, lank, red-haired, a boy almost. They carefully and respectfully set their load on the table, then skilfully removed the bier from under the, still covered, body. The young fellow set aside the bier and joined their guide, who was obviously in charge of the whole operation. The smaller man also joined the leader. He was introduced first, but not by name.

'This gentleman will be our Lector, he is a respected London practitioner and a very experienced teacher, and he will describe to you what we are doing and, if necessary, explain.'

Then it was the young man's turn to be introduced.

'Our Sector today will be my countryman and student Noel. His tender age belies his already formidable experience, his father sent him straight to me rather than to Oxford, knowing he'd learn more from a pioneer than from hidebound college doctors, though we're working on starting our own education system, too. Last of all, the office of Ostensor will be mine. I have studied the human body in all its perfection, but also in its failings, for twenty years. Since medicine is my profession, not a form of entertainment, I will do my usual research, including sketching, but I will also point out to you anything of special interest that is revealed today. Thank you for your attention, please ask questions as they arise, and now, let us proceed.'

A dissection indeed! Of all the places Manners could have taken them he had arranged a private session with one of Britain's most notable scientists, for though their guide hadn't introduced either himself or his helpers by their full name, his age, appearance and accent gave him away. Darcy had read about the important discoveries made by Matthew Baillie, the famous Scottish pathologist and surgeon, and if they managed to bear the sight of a human corpse being dissected they might become witness to another such revelation. For it was unlikely that this man would risk his career and possibly severe punishment if he didn't expect to find the deceased woman an interesting case.

Torn between outrage and curiosity, Darcy decided to make the best of the moment, at the very least what was going to happen here would keep him from thinking of Elizabeth too much.

A movement to his left pulled his attention towards Simon, hopefully he was not fainting already, he seemed such a sensitive man. But no, he must have known where they were going so he must have wanted to see this, expecting to enjoy it even. And indeed, there was no sign of distress in Simon's face, just anticipation.

'Are you all right, sir?' he whispered, 'I'm afraid Nick and Frederick may have outdone themselves.'

'I'm fine so far but that may change, we haven't seen any blood yet. But it's not what I expected, Simon, I must admit I am shocked. Still, I'm interested, too.'

And then they fell silent, for the young assistant removed the cloth covering the body. A heartbreakingly emaciated nude body was revealed, indeed a woman way too young to die, the cause of her death even to a layman's eye a wasting disease like consumption. The bulging abdomen was almost offensive, a woman in this state could never have carried a child to term, let alone care for it, why would someone fatally ill fall pregnant?

'Female, lower class, admitted to St Thomas' thirty days ago with last stage consumption, estimated six months pregnant. Foetal development under severe malnourishment, impact of consumption on the lungs.'

Those were likely their points of interest. And indeed, the little man explained, 'Our Ostensor is doing a pre-emptive check of the subject to inventory potential discoveries. That way he will be sure not to miss anything of importance.'

But then the moment had finally arrived in which young Noel, the only practitioner with a name, be it only a Christian one, picked up a scalpel and made the first cut. Blood welled up, but less than one might expect. Darcy didn't feel nausea or faintness, and looked to his left and right to check his neighbours. Neither Simon nor Fowler showed any signs of distress, nor did Anne as far as Darcy could see from behind Fowler's burly shape. The rest of the party was out of his line of sight, but they were not his acquaintance or relatives but Manners', who was there with them. Besides, two of them were officers, supposed to be able to take excellent care of themselves. And the twins had their father with them as well as the officers and Manners. They'd be fine.


	123. Chapter 123

Chapter 133

When Elizabeth entered the music room, she realised that despite its size it was only a tiny part of a very large house, a palace in fact. But nonetheless it was very impressive, large, rather bare of furniture but beautifully decorated with paintings, fabrics and ornaments of an incredible richness and in excellent taste. Especially the paintings had to be worth a small fortune, though a carpet that size couldn't be at all cheap either. The only house she could compare it to was that of Mrs Drummond, though that lady's style was much more lavish. Of course it seemed as if this was a room dedicated to music, and for some reason those always were a little bare of furniture, Eric's room at the Zumpe's house had been no different, and even with Georgiana and himself spending most of their time in his apartment he had stripped the room containing the large Zumpe piano of anything he didn't need. And since Eric didn't need much at all, it was very bare indeed: any time they wanted to hear him play the additions to his second concerto on his Zumpe, they had to fetch extra chairs from the bedroom, if they needed more than three. Elizabeth wondered whether they'd have the curtains put back up next winter, without them it would be very cold.

Of course they might move the Zumpe downstairs next winter, they'd have the whole house to themselves with Fitzwilliam and herself at Pemberley most of the season. Or maybe they'd all be on the continent, though apparently it was even colder there in winter, despite being a lot further to the south. It had to do with mountains and the distance to the sea, Eric had explained but Elizabeth could not remember exactly. Never mind, she'd look it up in the library if they really were to go to Vienna.

For now she took the time to admire the décor of the huge room, as long as there were just the servants present to set up the piano. The panelling on the walls was cream coloured with gold accents, the ceiling the same but with a magnificent painting of Greek gods and mortals, all associated with music in some way. That was Orpheus with his lyre, really the only one she knew by name, well, except for the goat-like god Pan with his peculiar flute, but he was rather embarrassing to look at for a lady since he was not wearing any clothes, merely a little pelt on his legs and part of his buttocks, not even covering all of those. His male member was painted entirely life-like and in a state of arousal, besides being, one might say, god-like in its proportions. Which meant to say, huge.

Of course someone chose that moment to enter the room, and Elizabeth hoped her blush would be interpreted as resulting from looking up for quite a long time.

'Mrs Darcy, I presume?' a velvet female voice addressed her, 'I'm sorry for my husband's taste in décor, he just will not bow to convention in these more private rooms. Says he has to please the masses in his state rooms but nowhere else. I'd blame his decorator, but I know that poor man tried to dissuade him from having a low ceiling like this decorated with a realistic painting at all. Apparently it's not fashionable, but His Highness insisted.'

Well, so much for Elizabeth's fascination with the anatomically interesting painting going unnoticed. At least Mrs Drummond might congratulate herself that her taste in decorating was shared by her future monarch. Actually, her ancestor's taste in décor. And that painting had been religious in its subjects. Suddenly, Elizabeth stopped caring so much about propriety, she liked the painting, it was daring and very beautifully done. She framed her reply quickly, and rather impetuously.

'Please don't be sorry on my account, I must admit I rather like it, I've always been fond of Greek myths though some people find them irreligious. And of course you are right, I'm Mrs Darcy, and those two fascinated by your beautiful instruments are my brother and sister, Mr and Mrs Fielding.'

'The newly-weds,' the lady replied, 'I'll introduce myself to them later. They look like they will be busy for at least half an hour, would you care to join me in the garden? If you like Greek mythology you'll see plenty to please your eye. I'm Mrs Fitzherbert, by the way.'

Elizabeth curtseyed respectfully, she had only a faint idea who the Fitzherberts were, but if she claimed to be the Prince's wife she must be of higher rank than Elizabeth. Still she could not help being her usual outspoken self, though she would not mention the 'my husband the Prince' part in front of his lady.

'I'd love to see the garden, Mrs Fitzherbert, I have an almost heathenish love for nature and especially trees, if left to my own devices I can ramble through fields and woods for hours all by myself, very improper for my current status as a landowner's wife.'

The lady gave as good as she got.

'Though you must be very glad to have that status, I suppose, for according to rumour your husband's northern estate has some of the most beautiful woods in the country.'

'So they are, so they are. We've sorely missed them these last few months, we're going north come Monday and frankly, I cannot wait.'

Elizabeth now addressed Georgiana and Eric to let them know they would be alone with the servants for half an hour, and Eric managed to spend a few seconds on her to reply. Then she let Mrs Fitzherbert lead her past a liveried servant, through the double doors they used as entrance, straight back into the garden.

'So soon? I'm sorry to hear that, I hoped we could get acquainted. From the descriptions in the newspapers and some personal accounts from friends who've met you, I thought I might like you a lot. And I think my hunch was correct. I asked to have you included in the invitation so I could meet you. I like music, but George takes it ever so seriously, pondering every piece he hears for days, wanting to hear it again and again. It gets boring sometimes, and I thought I'd like to have someone to talk to.'

All right, this was the time when Elizabeth tried to remember what she knew of Mrs Fitzherbert, who was known to have been the Prince's mistress for years, when they were both in their twenties. Then they'd had a falling out, of course they did, who'd want the man of her choice to be married to another, and if rumour was correct, just to have his substantial debts covered by the British people? Then several mistresses later, for of course the Prince had not settled with his wife, Mrs Fitzherbert was back together with him. To Elizabeth it sounded more like a tragedy than Mrs Fitzherbert's being mercenary. No self-respecting woman would choose to be treated that way, she must truly love her Prince.

'I think you may like Mr Fielding's music, it's much more accessible than the usual modern compositions. It goes straight to the heart.'

'I've read so much about his work, I can't wait to hear it myself. I was thrilled to hear how your husband let his sister marry Mr Fielding, despite the latter's low birth. I suppose you had something to do with that?'

Elizabeth's reply was a little too frank, but that might have to do with the beauty of the garden all around her. It was supposed to be landscaped but compared to Pemberley of course it wasn't exactly. She preferred to see nature unadorned but there was not a living thing in this garden that hadn't been tampered with by human hands: the tall grasses were the kind with the prettiest plumes, the solitary trees had been pruned to absolute symmetry, the clumps of brush were arranged from lowest to highest and according to colour. The lawn was free of moss and trimmed to the exact same height everywhere. But there was an attraction in the perfection as well, and it was in the middle of such a large city, she could not but love to see the grass turning a vivid green once more, the rose bushes rambling across the romantic seats putting out leaves, the solitary trees stretching their perfectly trimmed shapes against the background of, a kind of wilderness? Was that truly a patch of wild wood straight ahead? Distracted, she blurted out, 'I merely pointed out to him that he was ruling his sister's life and thinking nothing of it. According to the law it was his right, but he didn't even notice he was doing it. He did his very best not to patronize me, but he did it to his sister as a matter of habit. When he saw the truth in what I told him he gave her the right of choice and she chose what made her happy. Nothing more.'

'Nothing more than her own choice, Mrs Darcy? Is there anything more important? I twice acted as society expected of me but it never brought me happiness, not like Mrs Fielding's or yours. These days, I don't let a man tell me what to do, and I bear with the censure. But it took me some time to find that out, you and Mrs Fielding seem to have made a much happier choice.'

'A year ago I'd have agreed with you, Mrs Fitzherbert. Now I think I've mostly been very lucky.'

And Elizabeth truly believed that. Visiting Charlotte had proved again how lucky she had been to catch the eye of a man who respected her mind as much as he wanted her physically. Maybe even more, he could have had almost any woman he chose but he fell for the one who challenged him. Meeting Mrs Fitzherbert did cause Elizabeth to suspect the Prince must be much the same, though of course he could not choose whom to marry, especially not a Roman Catholic woman who had been twice-widowed before even meeting him.

'I expected you to be much older, Mrs Darcy, from your descriptions I thought you were close to thirty, but I can see you are likely not much older than twenty. I will admit I was a bit afraid you'd catch George's eye, he adores intelligent women, and you are beautiful as well as smart. But I guess we're both safe, he has never fancied a girl half his age before, though I'm certain you could captivate his attention if it pleased you.'

Was there a certain challenge in this last statement? Elizabeth preferred to think there wasn't. She wanted to like Mrs Fitzherbert, and she knew the woman had to accept a lot of competition for the dubitable honour of being the Prince's mistress. Elizabeth preferred to be Mr Darcy's lawfully wedded wife, and was no contender for the Prince of Wales' attentions.

'You can be sure of my not trying, Mrs Fitzherbert. I'm perfectly happy with my husband, and though I admit I'm curious to meet the Prince of Wales, I'd just as soon avoid being noticed by him. Can we take a short stroll through that little wilderness out there? I love nature at its wildest, and I suppose this is as wild as it gets in London.'

'It's my favourite, too, Mrs Darcy. I so wish you were staying in town a little longer, despite your tender age I suppose we could be good friends. But maybe we'll meet again next season.'

'I can hardly imagine not spending part of next winter in town, Mrs Fitzherbert, and though I suppose we move in quite different circles, there is always an opportunity to meet.'

That was sufficiently vague not to be a promise, if Georgiana and Eric were indeed to go to the continent, Elizabeth did not expect Fitzwilliam and herself to want to move to London, not even for a few weeks. She might even be with child by that time and showing it, in which case she didn't want any reporters to see her. If they were still interested in the Darcy family next season, which she hoped would not be the case.

The patch of wilderness was not as unspoiled as Elizabeth expected, even here human hands had interfered with nature to try to improve it. The trees were as perfectly trimmed as all others, there was not a stick of dead wood in sight and the only undergrowth were carefully planted early blooming plants, bluebells and expensive tulips, the path was made of symmetrically laid flagstones and kept free of moss and even the slightest blade of grass or any other weed. There were seats along the winding path and statues of beautiful women in various states of undress, white-faced marble ladies and luscious bronzes polished to a high sheen. Beautiful and valuable, but no comparison to Pemberley's natural woods, not for Elizabeth anyway.

By now they were approaching the end of the wooded area, and Elizabeth wondered whether Georgiana and Eric had finished their preparations. Hopefully the Prince would not keep them for too long after their concert, there would be a middle-class hall waiting for Eric at nine, and though he was not a gourmand like Mr Hurst, who lived for his dinner, Eric did like his sustenance, he needed to eat before tackling a large audience.

'This is a lovely garden, Mrs Fitzherbert, and I'm glad you showed it to me. When all is said and done I'm still a country girl, I will not miss town, especially not the reporters keeping an eye on everything we do, and having an opinion on it.'

'I wholeheartedly agree on the reporters, you can imagine that they have made my life an absolute hell for years with their impertinent questions and incessant curiosity. I rarely go out anymore, and we have to carefully check any staff we hire for they keep trying to plant their own people in our household. George was getting positively paranoid about being spied upon by reporters hiding out among the staff, but we've managed to get that under control. Now we're merely glad we have everything we need right here, the house is nearly finished, and George employs someone to find us some entertainment every night. Or afternoon. I think it's commendable of your brother-in-law to consider his audience and I told George so.'

Elizabeth had no idea what she meant, something must have happened while she was away, and seeing her expression her hostess explained.

'George sent a page to invite Mr and Mrs Fielding for tonight, but they begged to be excused because Mr Fielding had a prior engagement. According to the page, a concert in a middle-class neighbourhood. He was rather outraged, the page, as a new boy and of a very good family I suppose he is not used to being thwarted. But George didn't make much of it, he merely rescheduled to this afternoon. Still, if he likes Mr Fielding's music he will have him over again and again, Mrs Darcy, and he does expect to be indulged.'

That might become a problem since they were planning to leave town the day after tomorrow, but there was no use in making problems where there were none as yet.

'I was off to Kent to see a friend, fortunately I dressed to impress my obnoxious cousin before we left or I would have appeared before the Prince of Wales in my travelling dress, my girl barely had the time to redo my hair and powder, and add some accessories.'

'You must be hungry then, and tired! I'm sorry to have inconvenienced you, let me make it up to you by making certain there will be coffee during or after the show. We enjoy the services of two confectioners, you cannot believe the artistry they make of cakes and sweets. I'd offer to have you taken back home now but George knows you're expected, he will want to meet you. He reads all the papers, you see, he's not as ignorant a spendthrift as he is portrayed, he can be quite serious. You'll notice.

It's just amazing how I keep forgetting you're barely of age, Mrs Darcy, I can imagine why the reporters love you. And your Mr Darcy. He was virtually unknown to society, wasn't he? You certainly changed that, you and Mrs Fielding are the envy of all the ladies I know with your handsome men.'

'They all probably think it was on my insistence that he finally showed himself but it wasn't: it was Mr Fielding's career that forced both of us to come out of the woods. I'd just as soon have stayed anonymous.'

This seemed to surprise Mrs Fitzherbert, but by now they had reached the house and she led Elizabeth back in, past the servants guarding the door, who greeted politely and nothing more. Of course there was no-one else present but Eric and Georgiana, with Georgiana playing Eric's work on the little black piano! They had done other things in the privacy of their own quarters than indulge in the rights of a married couple, that was very obvious.

But as soon as they spied their hostess, she stopped playing, she could not have mastered this piece well enough to play it in public, this was just practice. Mrs Fitzherbert used the moment of silence and her guests' attention well.

'Good afternoon, Mr and Mrs Fielding! You are very welcome here, I hope you like our instruments. I'm Mrs Fitzherbert.'

The young couple both got up and Eric bowed as Georgiana curtseyed. Elizabeth was so proud of both of them, they had such excellent manners.

'You have a lovely piano, Mrs Fitzherbert, it was perfectly tuned and I will love playing it tonight. I suppose quite a few famous hands have touched that keyboard, it will be such an honour to follow in their footsteps. We have brought our own instrument as well, not because we had no faith in yours, but because it is perfectly suited to my own compositions. You will hear the difference, I'm certain.'

'I'm certain His Highness will, Mr Fielding, thank you for taking the trouble. Prince George will be here any minute now, with his best friends and some people he cannot ignore. Please greet the Prince by his title, the rest can introduce themselves after your performance. He prefers to keep the formalities to a minimum on these occasions.'

And sure enough, as Mrs Fitzherbert showed Elizabeth to a seat close to the piano, the door opened and a group of ten men filed in, dressed to perfection and very formally, but chatting all the same. They wore old-fashioned breeches and buckled shoes, and some even wore wigs. Elizabeth could see instantly which one was the Prince, not because his style of dress was in any way different from that of the others for it wasn't. He merely resembled his descriptions very closely, and to be honest, some of the caricatures in their newspaper had been very striking, though generally rather unflattering. The real man was slightly less chubby, those drawings made him grossly fat which this man certainly wasn't. But his face was rounded, with at least one extra chin, and he did not have an athletic figure like Fitzwilliam or even Frederick, which made him easily recognizable. Still, he his features were not coarse or plain and he looked every inch a prince, and Elizabeth had no trouble at all feeling suitably impressed.

The four of them had risen at his entrance, of course, and were acknowledged by a mere nod of the royal head. Eric, Georgiana and Elizabeth simultaneously bowed or curtseyed, and did not sit back down until the Prince did. As instructed by Mrs Fitzherbert, Eric started to play immediately, a fiendishly difficult sonata, on the large instrument. Georgiana sat next to him and watched her husband with infatuation, such a sight to warm Elizabeth's heart. Then she took a good look around.

They were sitting in a large circle with the piano at the centre, a totally different set-up from the usual rows opposite the instrument, but of course this was a huge room with only a few people watching. Elizabeth was sitting closest to the little black piano, on the very right of the circle, and right next to her sat their hostess. Then there was a gap in which at least ten chairs might have been placed, and almost opposite the two of them the single file of important men started with the Prince of Wales himself, then four men his own age, all wearing breeches and buckled shoes and very lavishly ornamented coats in the army style, though not the army colour, of course. Apparently that was still the fashion among the truly highborn. Then two older men in a similar style but somehow even more old-fashioned, that might have been because of the powdered wigs they still wore with pride. Their cravats weren't worth mentioning. These must be the important hangers-on. Close to the piano on which Eric was playing now, the three youngest members of the group were still enjoying themselves. They looked like sportsmen, wearing boots instead of shoes and unadorned coats that could almost be hunting gear. Their hair was as long and as lavishly styled as Fitzwilliam's, and one of them even sported a moustache and a short beard. That did seem risky to Elizabeth, it made him stand out more than might be wise. But he must be a favourite of the Prince, so he could probably do whatever he liked.

Looking at the Prince himself to see how he liked the music, Elizabeth found him watching her, at least it seemed that way. Mrs Fitzherbert was sitting in her line of sight, and the Prince's, which made it more difficult to see what he was doing but also enabled her to do it a lot more secretively. At least towards him, his youngest friends could easily see anything she did, but they were captivated by the music. Maybe they would not be bored after all.

Yes, he really was trying to check her out, suppose he had read the newspaper and now wanted to see for himself whether her dress truly looked like it was made in Cheapside. Elizabeth found she still didn't care, she did not have to charm this man, preferably not. It was kind of satisfying to be wearing glass beads to a royal audience.

The next time she tried to take a good look at him, he actually managed to catch her eye and smiled and nodded. He was close to forty and looked like it, but he had a charming smile and she could not help returning it, it would be rude not to anyway. Suddenly Elizabeth understood why their hostess would have upset her life for decades to please this man, he seemed very much the charmer his reputation made him. Well, maybe they'd get a chance to find out whether he was also good company. Though having enjoyed an education fit for an Heir Presumptive, and in concurrence with his reputation as a patron of the arts, that could hardy be otherwise.

Meanwhile, it was great fun to watch Eric play and see his audience listen and watch in total rapture, especially those younger men. And Georgiana, she could not get enough of her beloved husband's talent. Until it was her own turn to perform, their Italian duet on pianoforte and harpsichord, the sonata that Eric always improvised an accompaniment to, this time he played the little black Zumpe while Georgiana wrestled with the grand piano.

After an hour of music Georgiana took a more comfortable seat while Eric readied himself behind the Zumpe, but Mrs Fitzherbert tactfully intervened.

'Thank you so much for your beautiful playing, Mr and Mrs Fielding. May I suggest that before you continue we all take a little refreshment? Mrs Darcy told me she hasn't had the chance to eat much today since she came all the way from Kent before being packed off to visit us.'

And she was right, Elizabeth was very hungry. Eric's music was food for her soul, and she hadn't been distracted from the performance by her empty stomach, but another hour without anything to eat was not an appealing prospect, especially not now she had been reminded of her situation. Of course Eric complied, he had seen for himself how little time Elizabeth had had between her arrival and their departure. And who knew, he might be hungry, too, or maybe he was just curious what would be served between meals in a Crown Prince's household.

They did not have to wait long, as soon as their hostess nodded to one of the liveried servants he rang a bell, and three liveried men entered with trays. Immediately, as if they had been waiting outside the room for some time. One was bearing several bottles of wine and quite a number of glasses, all on an ingeniously stacked tray. Elizabeth would not want to try to carry all that, she'd drop at least half the glasses and most likely all of them. The second had a China pot of what was probably tea, and everything needed to enjoy it. And the third was wheeling in a display with several beautiful works of art, a silver dish heaped with softly tinged roses in full bloom, a miniature of a beautiful group of life-like statues she had seen in the garden, and several cake stands laden with beautiful little cakes and fondants. Elizabeth's mouth almost started to water at the sight of such a feast, but despite her hunger she managed to keep a straight face and wait for the servers to start sharing out their delicacies to the guests.

But before these servants had set their trays down on a table fetched from some obscure place in the room, another host of servants arrived with a display of fruit and one of cold meat, as well as bread and pastries. This was a light snack between meals? No wonder the Prince was well-padded!

As Mrs Fitzherbert arranged everything to her liking the gentlemen spread out, the elder towards Eric, the younger to Georgiana, of course, and the Prince approached Elizabeth. He nodded and she curtseyed as deeply as she'd ever done, it was not likely she'd ever meet anyone of a higher rank. To her surprise his voice was mellow and very manly, she'd have expected him to sound almost boyish, he was not broad-shouldered nor square-jawed, though his was not a displeasing face.

'Mrs Darcy, I'm very pleased to finally meet you. I will not keep you long, you must be eager to try some of Maria's dainties, she knows exactly what ladies like to eat. Will you join me in drinking a glass of wine as well, though it may be early for you?'

Well, Elizabeth could appreciate the situation enough to postpone her meal, one did not get to meet a prince every day, and she had certainly not expected him to be as kind and informal as this. She acknowledged his offer with another curtsey and replied, 'Thank you, Your Highness, it would be an honour to enjoy a glass of wine with you. Though I admit I will not hesitate to try Mrs Fitzherbert's choice of food, I only heard I was going here half an hour before we arrived, I had no time to imagine what our visit was going to be like.'

As one of the servants handed both of them a beautiful glass of intensely red wine, the Prince first, of course, she could already smell the sweet, heavy aroma, not like anything she ever tasted before. Better take care not to set herself drunk on such a strong wine, on an empty stomach that was a very real danger, and it would make a very bad impression indeed.

The Prince laughed heartily at her observation and offered to toast, not to the entire party but just to her. Determined to trust to her own good sense and that of her future king, she did not show her slight discomfort with the situation. This man was a mature, sensible adult, and he would not do anything foolish. As he took his first sip of his wine, Elizabeth could not help sampling it first as Earl Compton had taught her, swirl it and smell it carefully and deeply, then take the tiniest sip and explore that very thoroughly. It was strong indeed, and still sweeter than any wine she had ever tasted. It must be something special, and so good it was dangerous, for to indulge in it would mean losing her wits very quickly.

'I'm glad you like it, and I'm impressed you know how to appreciate a quality wine. Have you ever had Madeira wine before? Never mind, I can see you have not, it's quite an experience, isn't it? I'd tell you to be careful on an empty stomach, but I'm certain you always are, despite your tender age. I must confess I had expected you to be a little older, Mrs Darcy, you cannot be long past coming of age, and yet you are very sophisticated.'

For a country girl of an unknown family no doubt.

'But aside from your youth the papers seem to have been right for once in their assessment of someone, I was afraid to find they had exaggerated your charms, but they did not. You won their approval and led them by the nose, then played a mighty joke on them with your French couture. And still they love you. I'd hire you to help me make a better impression on the people myself, everybody reads those newspapers and they generally do not paint a pretty picture of me, but I can see there is no artifice in you: you have no idea why they like you so much, you are not using them to get attention.'

Well, Elizabeth was not going to tell him her age if he didn't ask directly. Instead she replied mostly politely and brought the conversation from her person to the wine. That seemed rather a safe subject.

'Thank you, Your Highness, for your compliments. I have indeed never sought the approval of any reporter, on the contrary, we planned to mislead them about the dresses from the very moment someone stated with absolute certainty they were French, and they fell for it beyond our expectation. I'd never even think of buying anything overseas, I grew up without luxuries and I don't need them, though I really appreciate this wine. I've never tasted anything like it, sweet and positively heady at the same time.'

'It has been brought here over one of the roughest and most dangerous seas of them all, Mrs Darcy. But I suppose with luxuries you don't mean wine, it's a necessity of life after all.'

If it hadn't been very clear this was meant as a joke, she'd think him insensitive. Wasn't that why the French were supposedly beheading their gentility? Because they had no clue how normal people lived? As it was, there was no doubt he was being witty, and she could appreciate his humour. The papers certainly seemed to think he drank way too much wine, and he knew they did.

'It certainly is, like my hunter, though I suppose he is as English as ale.'

'You have a hunter, Mrs Darcy?'

'I do, though I haven't met him yet. He's at Pemberley, waiting for me to help me learn to hunt. I have a slightly more sedate horse right now.'

'Mrs Darcy, a woman who likes to ride is every gentleman's dream. Now I understand why your husband has a reputation for being very protective of you.'

Really? That was generally known?

Then she realised it was not that story of Mr Hurst's doing the rounds, it was Fitzwilliam's impressive size and dominant person, combined with his natural reticence giving the impression of his being possessive of his wife. And his current habit of wearing black pantaloons and unadorned shoes with his usual fitted coat could not but heighten his appearance of being unapproachable, even slightly dangerous.

'We did marry for love, Your Highness, and I discovered quickly that if I actually wanted to spend time with him I'd have to learn to ride. And then I found out I liked it, it gives such a feeling of speed and freedom. You know I ride astride in the country?'

This was meant to make him twice about proclaiming her the perfect woman, but of course its effect was exactly contrary. This man was not stuck on tradition, that much was clear.

'That's it, Mrs Darcy, I'm going to let you enjoy your wine and finally eat something, before I say or do something to give Mr Darcy a reason to be jealous. I believe Mr Fielding is more than ready to continue and of course he has another performance tonight, he needs to have some time to prepare. Though I hope he will allow me a few moments afterwards to discuss his music with me, I'm very impressed. See you later, Mrs Darcy.'

Elizabeth curtseyed again and observed, 'Thank you, Your Highness.'

Then she turned towards the table with the cakes and to her surprise discovered the number of roses greatly diminished, and the statues beheaded, the dark-brown spongy inside marbled with veins of white. The group of statues was a cake itself, not a work of art as she had thought! She now wondered what the roses were made of, for it was obvious they were another feat of confectionery art.

A very polite servant addressed her to explain what the 'art' was made of. She recognised his accent as French and realised he was not a mere server, but one of the specialists who made these fabulous pieces. She couldn't wait to taste them, all of them.

'The flowers are made of fondant and actually taste of roses, madame, and this cake is chocolate with a filling of lemon cream laced with bergamot. And you should try a cup of this hot chocolate, too, madame, is the latest development in France with vanilla and cream.'

Elizabeth accepted everything he offered, though she guessed wine and hot chocolate might mix doubtfully, but she had rarely tasted hot chocolate and suspected the Prince of Wales' to be even superior to the kind she had been served at Lady Catherine's table almost a year ago.

If Mr Hurst could have seen her carrying a plate with sweet dainties and a cup of hot chocolate he would have turned green with jealousy. Though she generally didn't like food that had been fussed over she expected to enjoy this, and her first sip from the cup proved her right. It was so good that for a moment she feared for her soul, to be tempted so much by something as earthly as food. Sweet, creamy and with something extra she knew was the chocolate, she couldn't wait to taste the cake.

It was even better, and she ate it slowly, to savour the delicacy. The flavours were new to her, the chocolate but also something tangy she guessed must be bergamot. Whatever it was, it was delicious.

By now, a hush fell over the room and Eric started to play, and she was hard put to divide her attention between the music and the cake. The cake won, it had help from the chocolate drink, and the fondant rose proved to be as good. Then the kind French confectioner brought her a pastry, unasked, and since her drink was finished by now she sipped her wine very slowly. Eating when someone was playing was not something she'd generally do in company, but everyone around her was eating and drinking while listening to Eric's revolutionary work. She had expected to be surrounded by stifling formality, but instead found herself more comfortable than at Rosings or at some of the private houses where Eric had performed in the last few months.

The little piano was performing fabulously, and Georgiana almost felt at home in this richly furnished room in the presence of the Prince of Wales and who knew how many other highly ranked nobles. That might be because her second performance went very well, but somehow she didn't think so. There was something about this place that made it less formal than a lot of other places she had seen. Maybe it was the Prince himself? They hadn't met him yet, he'd seemed totally taken with Elizabeth, but his general attitude was very relaxed and very informal. It was just what Frederick had warned them against, and Georgiana was glad she'd followed Eric's example and refused the wine they were offered. The hot chocolate they had gotten instead tasted much better anyway, as tempting but it wouldn't set her drunk.

She could see all the others indulging freely, except Mrs Fitzherbert, obviously a very sensible lady despite getting involved with a prince she could never claim as her own, and Elizabeth, who had a glass of wine but was merely nipping at it. Good. Like almost every intelligent man Georgiana had seen in Elizabeth's company, the Prince seemed quite taken with her, and Georgiana loved her brother and would hate to see anyone come between him and his beloved. But Elizabeth was one of the most sensible women Georgiana had ever known, and as long as nothing untoward happened she could handle any man, even the Heir Presumptive.

Mind turning back to the music, Georgiana wondered how an instrument could handle being lugged across half the town on the back of a carriage, even a well-sprung one, and only need a slight adjustment to its tuning. And how such a tiny piano could carry exactly the same mournful quality that a much larger instrument did. Of course it was much heavier than it looked, but still. Then the music grabbed her again, no matter how often she'd heard it before it could still free her mind of all sensible thought, and she gave herself up to the flow of Eric's performance. When he was done she felt almost sad it was over, image what other people must feel since they could not hear him play this beautiful composition whenever they wanted to.

Eric certainly seemed pleased with his performance, he kept an eye on his important audience but whispered to Georgiana, 'Congratulations, my love, you performed beautifully. Now remember, be formal.'

Elizabeth hadn't been, she'd been polite but did not refrain from her usual manner. But of course she hadn't been there when Frederick instructed them, and their host had started their exchange of wit. What was it with her sister-in-law that seemed to draw men to want to impress her with their intelligence and humour? No man ever tried to catch Elizabeth's attention with his importance or riches. Maybe they knew they'd fail, or maybe men like that did not feel her attraction. Well, the Prince certainly did, he came towards Eric but he was obviously rather sorry to not spend more time with Elizabeth. And she would not invite his attentions by joining his conversation with Eric, there were plenty of other men who were eager to make her acquaintance. Fortunately the Prince seemed truly interested in Eric, and in Georgiana herself, he even looked rather affected.

'Mr and Mrs Fielding, that was sublime! You were obviously meant for each other, two such talents.'

Eric bowed deeply and Georgiana followed his example with a curtsey. The Prince nodded kindly in return, and awaited their, 'Thank you, Your Highness,' before he praised Eric's virtuosity, their duets and their singing. But his real enthusiasm was reserved for Eric's romantic work, apparently he'd heard of its existence but never managed to find someone able to play it for him.

'And your instrument, I thought I had the best forte-piano money could but but I guess I was mistaken!'

With respect but not humility Eric corrected, 'Indeed you have the best instrument money can buy, Your Highness, I have never played a better. For virtuous, glad music. I have found that deeper, more feeling music sounds better on an English piano, and for some reason its size doesn't seem to matter. I have a large, ornate one myself, but the general sound is much the same. This one is much easier to bring along, though.'

'I suppose I will have to get one of those, too, then, for I want to hear more of this romantic music.'

Eric, do not tell him there are no other romantic composers in London, yet. Do not tell him or he'll keep you in town indefinitely.

'There are plenty of beautiful Zumpe pianos for sale, Your Highness, and a lot of them have this special quality. The problem will be finding someone to play the right kind of music on them, so far we have not heard of anyone else composing or even playing this new music.'

He had to say it, hadn't he? Now this powerful man would not let Eric go to Pemberley to find a measure of rest when he so deserved it. When their new marriage needed some time spent together, without over-eager ladies trying to interfere with their intimacy. Nor did Georgiana want charming powerful men meddling in her brother's marriage, and all those other men, old or young, had already flocked to Elizabeth's side. And looking at the Prince he would not let Elizabeth leave for Derbyshire if he could keep her around to provide him with entertaining conversation, together with her brother-in-law's music. He was already trying to include her in his conversation with Eric. Elizabeth seemed to be avoiding his gaze, though Georgiana could not be certain she did it on purpose, Elizabeth could be very subtle if she had reason to be and there were a lot of other people, men, actually, claiming her attention.

'Mrs Fielding, I'm so glad to make your acquaintance!'

It was Mrs Fitzherbert, she didn't seem concerned with the situation. Georgiana greeted her politely, and was glad their hostess seemed altogether pleased, not worried about her other female guest claiming all the men.

'Mrs Darcy does not seem unduly impressed with men of rank, does she? I know she is a general favourite but having heard she was from the country I expected her to be less at home in a setting like this.'

Was she fishing for information? If so, Georgiana had no idea what it was the lady wanted to know.

'Eric, Mr Fielding, has been giving private concerts for over three months, Mrs Fitzherbert, and Elizabeth accompanied us to most of them. As our chaperone, you see, we have only been married for three days. I guess she has gotten used to being among city people of a certain standing. Also, her courage rises with every attempt to intimidate her.'

That brought the expected laugh and a warm observation, 'That is something she actually said, isn't it? I think I could get to like your sister-in-law very much, Mrs Fielding, and I suspect George feels the same. She told me you were planning to leave for your estate come Monday?'

'We are. It will be our honeymoon. Eric has been dodging admirers of all walks of life for months, and he needs a rest. They'll stop at nothing, I suppose it's only his sense of propriety that is holding them back from doing more than trying to talk to him or touch him. They would demean themselves for him if they thought he'd fall for it.'

Now the poor lady showed some of her experiences for Georgiana to see.

'You have no idea how right you are. Most of those educated, perfectly mannered, even married, girls and ladies out there only need encouragement to shame themselves. I can assure you from bitter experience that fame and power attract a certain type of woman, and not all men can resist their attraction.'

Of course her man could not, if rumour could be believed the Heir Presumptive had had scores of mistresses, some of them married to highly ranked men.

'Why do you suppose those men don't flock to you, Mrs Fielding? You are at least as beautiful and as well-dressed as your sister.'

Georgiana had wondered, they had been eager enough to make her acquaintance when the Prince was talking to Elizabeth. Not that she minded being left alone.

'Would it surprise you to know it's the Prince's attention that makes the difference? I'm afraid George is surrounded by sycophants, Mrs Fielding. Mark my words, as soon as he has spoken two words to you they'll be all over you, too. If you didn't have another appointment soon I'd have to save Mrs Darcy from them. As it is, I think she can handle them for half an hour.'

Georgiana seriously doubted she could ever stand loving a man who would hang out with people he didn't actually like, and who would succumb to the charms of married women, or even any other woman than herself. Poor Mrs Fitzherbert, despite the easy life with every luxury imaginable she could not but be unhappy sometimes. To think such a man was the next king. And the lady's own life wasn't without sin, she was living with a man she was not married to, most people were very eager to condemn a woman for that, though of course Mrs Fitzherbert was a Roman Catholic, which to some was bad enough, even if she had been properly married. Anne's choice seemed much more fortunate, both in the man she had come to love as well as her decision to get married to Frederick.


	124. Chapter 124

Chapter 134

Anne herself was fighting her own inclinations, on the one hand she felt she should be disgusted and shocked by three men coolly dissecting what was once a living, breathing woman, and on the other she was fascinated by their dedication to their work and the things they told their audience about the human body. First they explained how consumption had destroyed the tissue of the poor woman's lungs, showing them the ravaged remains of that essential organ. Then they started on the pregnancy, and when after a terrific lecture on conception and growth they reached the human foetus Anne finally felt upset. In three more months that poor cold tiny body would have been a cuddly baby like little William Collins, blue-eyed and innocent, with wee little hands and feet, and now it was study material in the hands of uncaring scientists. Of course she knew they would put what they learned to good use to save other women's lives, and their babies', but still it was a confronting sight.

Then she felt Nick's solid shape move so close that she could feel the heat of his body, and a warm hand took hers under the dubitable cover of her dress skirts. It helped, though the risk of discovery was significant. Or was it? Anne had Frederick on her other side, and the three doctors were not paying any attention to their spectators, Anne wondered why they allowed them in the first place. They must be pressed for funds, or Frederick must have offered them something else they needed. Another thing she needed to ask him, she was going to be his wife, she wanted to know what he was up to. They could have gone to a public dissection, where convicted murderers were denied a decent burial after their hanging. Of course those were held the day after the trial, and not at Mr Frederick Manners' convenience, but still, how did he even know about these obviously illegal practices?

Of course Anne had recognised the middle-aged Lector straight away as Doctor Parker, Frederick's personal physician, who'd made her realise those bloodlettings had caused her a decade of suffering from lack of energy and spirit. Still there was a distinct difference between being a rich man's physician and telling him about your illegal practice of dissecting unclaimed bodies from a charity hospital.

A sound to her right distracted Anne from her musings and from the ever more blood-drenched scene in front of her, and she was just in time to see all the blood draw from Frederick's face. Then he just toppled over, and Anne quickly pulled her left hand from Nick's to catch her fiancée in her arms instead of letting him fall on his face on the attic's bare planks.

At first no-one seemed to notice Frederick's fainting except Nick, her sudden tug to get her hand back having alarmed him. He noiselessly got up and supported the broadly-built man, just in time for Anne was starting to feel the weight of him, she was slight and Frederick's limp body kept wanting to slide to the floor. A quick look at Simon showed him torn between the desire to go to his lover and his usual hesitation to even acknowledge him in public. Anne gestured him to help, he was Frederick's personal servant after all, as far as anyone knew, and it was his right, even his duty, to assist his master when unwell. Simon seemed to understand, he rushed over and helped Nick to lift Frederick away from the scene that had disturbed him. Somehow, Anne didn't think less of him for fainting, it was a very disconcerting scene, and she liked to think he was a lot more sensitive than he pretended to be. She followed to where the others took Frederick, he was her fiancée after all, she could not leave him to Simon's care without giving a wrong impression.

Having found a nice, quiet place to rest Frederick's still shape against a fat wooden support, Nick moved towards Anne and whispered, 'I checked his pulse, he is fine, he must have been unaware he cannot stand the sight of so much blood. Will you stay with him? If he is not conscious in about ten minutes it may be best to have one of those doctors see to him. Though we'll have to make sure they leave their scalpels behind and wash their hands, consumption is deadly to the rich as well as the poor.'

He wanted to kiss her but he didn't, and as soon as he had left she turned to Simon, who was calm on the outside and still controlling himself not to take his lover in his arms.

'Will you hold him for me, Anne?' he asked, voice belying his outward calm, 'I dare not risk exposure but I don't want him to just lie there. I want him to know we love him.'

Anne nodded and moved to sit behind Frederick in such a way that she could hold his head in her lap for as long as he needed to come to.

'I think the sight of blood caused him to faint, Simon, nothing worse. He'll probably be all right within ten minutes, try not to worry too much.'

It was a very strange thing to sit there in the dark with Frederick still and lifeless. He was always in control, and now the only sound she could hear from him was his breathing, though that was indeed deep and calm. Simon was stroking his lover's face, he could not help himself, he must have seen Frederick asleep countless times but of course this was different.

'I've never seen him not in control, Anne,' he whispered, voice affected. 'Strange as it may seem to you, he is not like this in his sleep, he looks so vulnerable all of a sudden. I love him so much, I wish he'd show me his sensitive side more often.'

It didn't take long for Simon's touch to have effect, all right, Anne could not help herself either, she had to stroke that dear face and the dark hair, too. Soon the eyes opened and life returned to the strong body in her arms, but the vulnerable quality remained. A tremendous sigh followed.

'The two people I love most in this world, looking at me all worried. And with such love! I should faint more often, though I'm afraid those officers will have lost their respect for me. Fortunately they cannot tell anyone about this afternoon.'

He was just fine, his voice was strong though thick with feeling, he could probably get up already, he just didn't want to, he was enjoying this despite feeling humiliated.

'So now you know, Simon, I'm not the strong rock you thought I was. I hope you won't think less of me.'

Simon could not control himself any longer, after a quick look around he gathered his beloved up in his slim arms, there was some strength in him! After several very intimate kisses that Anne felt almost embarrassed to witness, so much like Nick's loving little kisses, he didn't hesitate to speak his mind, and his voice sounded husky.

'Don't by ridiculous, my love. A lot of people cannot stand the sight of blood, and you saw quite a bit more than I suppose any of us bargained for. It's not a sign of strength or weakness, it just is. And even if you were to show some human frailty from time to time, I'd love you even more for it. You're allowed to be merely human, you know.'

As Anne kept an eye on the rest of the attic, Simon and Frederick exchanged some unavoidable tokens of love, Simon must have been worried sick to break his own rule of total control towards his lover in public.

'I believe you, I believe everything you say to me, Simon. Give me five more minutes with you and I can face the world once again. Though maybe I shouldn't watch Doctor Parker and his friends anymore. Weren't you horrified?'

This was directed at Simon and Anne both, Frederick did not exclude his fiancée, was she truly one of the people he loved the most? That was kind of moving, and Anne certainly had a deep affection for him, too, which could only grow in the years to come.

'It was moderately gruesome, yes, but I didn't feel any different physically. Of course I was a bit farther away from it all. And you, Anne? You were sitting as close as Frederick, weren't you put out at all?'

'For a moment I was, but only when I saw the tiny foetus all blue and still. I was reminded of little William Collins junior, he truly is a cute little thing despite his sorry father. This poor dead baby could have become a sweet little child like him. But frankly, I felt a morbid fascination at the same time, and what they told us was very interesting indeed. I'm afraid I'm truly one of the girls, Simon, I might even have enjoyed that hanging.'

'Yes, with Nick as company you'd enjoy anything. Come, let's get back to the others before they start to worry.'

Frederick was back to his usual self, he walked on his own, his posture was as straight as ever, and he coolly sat back down on his former seat. He did take one of Anne's hands to support him, but not before sending her a pleading look to ask permission to do so. Despite sitting right next to Nick, she could not help stroking Frederick's hair one last time, his vulnerability just now had touched her deeply, and she wanted him to know she loved him, too. And he was not too proud to avert his eyes from the scene before them, which she continued to watch with interest if not pleasure. He faced her instead, leaning lightly on her shoulder, and quickly checking Nick's reaction to Frederick's familiarity she could see him catch Frederick's eye as if to have him confirm he was well. There was no jealousy in his demeanour, which made Anne very happy since there was no need to be jealous of Frederick. Or any other man. Anne was Nick's alone, just as she knew he was hers.

'I'm well enough, nothing was hurt but my pride, to faint at the sight of a little blood.'

'Then I'll turn to Anne for help if I ever get hurt again.'

That was true, she did not shy away from blood and hurt then, and it still didn't bother her overmuch. By now the Sector had progressed to the organs, and Anne was very interested to see the liver, so large for such a small, emaciated woman. It must be rather important, and fortunately Dr Parker explained roughly how it worked.

The dissection lasted another half hour, in which Anne felt very comfortable, almost squashed between her lover and her fiancée, who still held her hand and rested his head on her shoulder, looking the other way not to risk fainting again. It was a very special moment for Anne, giving Frederick support instead of having him arrange everything for everyone.

'That was it, ladies and gentlemen. We're not finished by far, we have our drawings to perfect and we will study several other objects, wasted muscles, the lungs under magnification, and others. But not now. I hope you have benefited from learning what doctors do, and I again plead you not to talk of this with anyone not presently here. What we are doing is important but it creates strong feelings in many, and that may be dangerous to all of us. I wish you a pleasant evening.'

Dr Parker bowed, then came straight towards Frederick, who sat up to talk to him.

'Are you feeling well, Mr Manners? Miss de Bourgh, I didn't recognise you before! You have gained so much weight and such colour! Just incredible. I hope you'll sue that doctor for almost killing you. Anyway, I'm glad to see you so well, but I am certain I saw Mr Manners not doing so well.'

'Yes, yes, Parker, no need to rub it in. I fainted dead away, I felt queasy from the start. But I feel fine now, it just came over me. Fortunately my lovely fiancée didn't hesitate to take care of me, she has no problem at all seeing blood.'

'Of course not, Mr Manners, remember she spent ten years watching her own draining into a bowl twice a week. Well, fortunately you seem back to your usual self, and please do not feel bad, a lot of people have the same, it's not cowardice but a physical reaction. Thank you for your support of our effort, Mr Manners. My colleague will lead you out, and then we will continue our research, all in a good cause.

Good bye, all!'

And he turned around and was back to the body, talking to the young man. The Scottish man led them back to where they'd come in, and now Anne could see all the others were fine, though Mr Blackwood looked a little white in the face as well. Anne bet he didn't expect to see something like this, not at all. He must be glad his daughters' wild days were almost up if this was the kind of amusement they craved.

As they left, Anne still close to Mr Manners, Simon talking to Mr Darcy in a low voice, Nick aimed to have a word with Mr Blackwood, to thank him for the beautiful coat and his general kindness during the time Nick had lived with the family. The day after tomorrow Nick would leave town, and he had no idea whether he would ever meet his former master again.

But Mr Blackwood was talking to Angelina, and her Ensign Stockford fell into place next to Nick and addressed him.

'Fowler, just the man I wanted to talk to. That was some kind of entertainment, my man, Angelina tells me you promised the most spectacular outing of all and I daresay you succeeded. Just incredible, I'd be shocked but instead I'll take that small physician over my own any day. At least this one knows what he is talking about.

Listen, I know you have Miss de Bourgh's ear, Miss Sophie says she really likes you and you'll be working for her. I hope your new mistress isn't put out over Ronald's, I mean Lieutenant Talbot's presence. Colonel Compton really ordered him to go, Ronald didn't want to, said she'd just as soon be spared the sight of him. Which I suppose is true, though she hides it well. She's quite a hero, isn't she, your new mistress, watching that whole thing without a single sign of stress, then catching and comforting her fiancée when he fainted. I tell you, I felt like fainting myself one or two times there, my God what a damned mess. But you know we've seen our share of blood and guts and death, Ronald and I. The colonel too, do not be mistaken, he started out an Ensign same as me.'

He looked well enough, his eyes sparkled and his cheeks were faintly blushed. His voice lowered a little as he got more confidential.

'He's doing quite well, Ronald, he is still lost in love, but on the mend. It was hard for a few days when she got engaged but at least now he knows it's hopeless. He can get over her, look ahead, you know. He won't get over this quickly, such a superior woman. Though I wonder where he got the absurd notion she'd return his love, anyone could see from the very start she was not for a mere lieutenant. I warned him not to set his sights on her, I mean, it's clear she's miles above him, he should have known it would be Mr Manners she'd choose, according to Angelina they were thick as thieves from the start, and he's as rich and as famous as she is rich and beautiful. Not for fellows like us, and Ronald should have accepted that from the start.'

And all his time, Anne was sleeping with Nick, who was miles lower again. Who wasn't even in the scale for suitability to marry a lady. How could he have been hurt she wouldn't marry him if Stockford considered her so much above him and his friend, both from an excellent family but second sons? Lieutenant Talbot even had money, almost half as much as Anne currently had.

'Say Fowler, Miss Sophie tells me you've made your decision to not become an officer? The colonel will be sorry you choose servitude, he has a very high opinion of you.'

'He told you he offered me a position?'

'Certainly, in case you wanted more information from another Ensign. Talbot will be sorry, too, he likes you as much as I do.'

He did? They liked him? But they didn't know Nick was involved with Anne, the woman Lieutenant Talbot adored.

'Though we understand, too, it's probably an easy job, guarding a lady, and Miss Sophie told me you like being among the highborn, especially ladies. I suppose you'll see plenty of those living in Mr Manners' house, at least now there's going to be a lady of the house. Miss Sophie says Mr Darcy's wife and sister are very beautiful, and Mrs Darcy's sister even more so.'

As if Nick would ever dare lay a hand on any of them! Mr Darcy would kill him. What Mrs Darcy herself left of Nick, for she could take excellent care of herself. But at least Sophie had either forgotten about Nick's supposed crush on Miss de Bourgh, or she kept it to herself. Either suited Nick perfectly fine. Half a year in the north, and Sophie would have forgotten all about him. Unless they visited at Pemberley. Oh well, maybe two months' separation would suffice for her to forget Nick.

By the time their conversation was at an end, they had reached the door to the street, and they all took leave of the Scottish doctor. Mr Blackwood proposed to go to a café to spend some time together, to talk of what they had seen and take leave from those who would set off so soon. Even Mr Darcy agreed to come, Nick had heard his wife was at Carlton House with Mrs and Mr Fielding, who were to play for the Prince of Wales. No wonder he felt like a diversion, even in the company of Mr Blackwood and several officers.

Of course Nick got plenty of opportunity to thank Mr Blackwood for his kindness and take leave of Sophie and Angelina, and Anne sat between Mr Manners and Lieutenant Talbot and heard the latter's apology for his behaviour, responding with kindness but also with a slightly superior attitude. Smart. It would make the lieutenant feel less inclined to regret her, and convince everyone she was ready to be Mrs Manners, above second sons and much too important to even notice her very own bodyguard.

'I'll miss you so much, Nick, I'll cry for days,' Sophie indeed cried.

'But you have your colonel, dear Miss Sophie,' he replied kindly, 'you will soon be married and forget all about me.'

'I'll never forget you, everything you did for us. But you're right, the colonel is nice, too.'

Then in a lower voice, meant for him alone, 'You're not going for Mrs Darcy, are you? I heard Mark talk to you but don't, Nick. Her husband will kill you or have you hanged.'

She was so sweet, even if she had been eavesdropping.

'Of course I won't, Sophie, have you ever really looked at Mr Darcy? He is stunningly handsome, even in a coat like he's wearing now. I'm certain Mrs Darcy would never look at me twice with such a man by her side. And anyway, I'll be living in their house, you know I never did that with ladies from my own house. It's the best way to get into trouble. Don't you worry about me, I'll be fine.'

In fact, he couldn't wait. According to Anne they might even end up with adjoining rooms in a part of the house where no-one ever came, something to do with their journey to the continent. And Sophie would most likely have the life Anne wanted to avoid so desperately: sit at home with a piece of needlework all by herself, the colonel away in France, a new baby on its way after every leave. Well, maybe Nick would be in the position to have her invited to Mr Manners' house once in a while, or maybe she and Angelina would stick together, for Angelina's husband would also be away from home a lot.

Finally, their time together was up. The Blackwood carriage left with its master, his twin daughters and the two officers, and Mr Manners found Nick to ask him, 'Do you have any possessions still at the Blackwood house that you need to fetch? It may be best if you do that straight away.'

Nick was shocked, leave Mr Darcy in the carriage, waiting for a servant? That was going way too far.

'I have a few things, but don't you think it would be presumptuous of me to expect all of you to wait for me in the carriage while I gather them?'

To be honest, Nick had forgotten all about his things, he still needed to get used to the idea that he was never to return to the familiar house.

'I suppose you'll want to make a last round of the place anyway, and take your time to say goodbye to the other staff. Well then, I'll have Bates take you there as soon as he is back from Carlton House. Remember, give him a new colleague he thinks he knows and he'll never mind anything you say or do again.'

Nick bowed in acknowledgement of his new master's advice.

'Thank you, sir, I will do that. But sir, your carriage driving there and back just for me, I can take a cab as easily.'

Mr Manners shook his head slowly, as if terribly disappointed in Nick.

'Nick, I'm not really your master, remember? We're friends who pretend to be master and servant. So please stop calling me sir and please don't be servile to me. I can imagine you wouldn't want to keep Mr Darcy waiting for you, or hurry saying goodbye to a place where you spent so many years, but you can let Bates drive you around town. It's what I pay him for, unlike you he truly is my servant.'

Why couldn't he just accept Nick showing him respect? It was part of their masquerade, wasn't it?

'Nick, you must have seen me faint just now, you know I'm just a man like you.'

Of course he knew that.

'I saw Mrs Blackwood drink herself in a stupor daily, Frederick. I saw parts of other ladies you wouldn't want to be paid to look at. Still they were ladies and I addressed them accordingly. I couldn't very well have called them by their first name, not when so many of them don't even use their own spouse's first name.'

'All right, all right, I concede. You call me whatever you like in public. But in private I expect you to act like a friend, not a dependant.'

'Yes, sir. I understand, sir.'

Now Mr Manners truly looked like Frederick as he hung his head like a little boy during a scolding.

'I deserved that. I'm sorry, Nick. It's been quite the afternoon for me.'

Nick could not help feeling a little sorry for him, it must be hard to have control over everything in one's life and then faint at the sight of blood. Though it was a lot of blood, and not an easy thing to watch for any of them.

'Please don't think of my examples as judgement on your unfortunate accident just now, Frederick. You really couldn't help that, and it's not nearly as demeaning as being a drunk or a cheater. I have the highest respect for you, I am truly trying to be familiar but I can't do it all the time. Not yet, ask Anne how long it took me to be familiar with her.'

Frederick now put an arm around Nick and led him to Mr Darcy's little carriage, with Bob on the box and two large, placid horses in front of it. Poor Bob didn't like driving this team at all, he was used to having the best team in town in his charge. But they were fast enough for London traffic, and soon enough they were back at Mr Darcy's house, where Nick followed Simon to the back of the house but not after having received a loving kiss from Anne. Would they truly spend every night together from now on?

'I'll show you your room, Nick. It's just for two nights, Monday we'll be on our way to Derbyshire, but we need to keep up appearances and let you have a room of your own. I've had your stuff from the trip to Kent taken there already, I suspected you wouldn't spend your last nights in London with the Blackwoods. This is it, I'm sorry it's a bit small. You'll have something much better at Pemberley, the rooms on the second floor are huge, though terribly old-fashioned. To be honest, I wouldn't like to spend the night on that floor all by myself, it's cold and gloomy. But with Frederick to warm my bed I don't think I could be afraid of anything.'

See, even Simon still saw Mr Ma..Frederick as someone to feel safe with, to look up to, despite the latter proving unable to watch the afternoon's carnage. And while Nick was certainly not going to have a man warm his bed, he already trusted Frederick to protect him from the few things that could frighten him. Nothing physical, he suspected he was a better fighter than the stocky gentleman and he knew he could talk his way out of almost anything, the situation at the parsonage only proved that. No, the only thing Nick feared were men with prominence, who could exercise their influence to make life very difficult for smaller men like Nick. Having one of those men behind him and urging him to be friends rather than master and servant made Nick feel very, very safe, even if took some getting used to.

 _Author's note_

 _We are nearing the end of Revelations part 3, which means it is now available as e-book and on Kindle. Just in case you'd like to keep it for re-reading. Revelations will continue, I suspect with E &D back as the main characters, since there are quite a few questions I want answered. And what about you? Are there loose ends you want to see tied, characters you want to know more about, romances or events you'd like to see addressed? Please let me know in the comments, and you may find out more as Revelations continues._


	125. Chapter 125

Chapter 135

Finally, Elizabeth could imagine what Eric must have felt like at almost every concert. The prince's friends were all gathered around her in mindless adulation. They who had looked like reasonably sensible men from a distance, while they were enjoying superior music, turned out to be empty-headed, vain, and hopelessly enamoured of their master. He wasn't even their master, they were all high-ranking nobles in their own right, but they didn't seem to have a mind of their own anyway. It was annoying and very tiresome to be admired not for some superior quality, but because someone else showed an interest. Which was similar to what Eric experienced, though his admirers probably liked his looks, too. Elizabeth was well aware that neither of these men would have even looked at her twice if she hadn't been reasonably pretty herself.

Although the prince did seem to be the type to look further than the outside, Mrs Fitzherbert was not hideous but she was not an outstanding beauty, not at her age, nor could she have been even when younger. A person's nose didn't change much with age after all and she had a sizeable one. None of her features were coarse or graceless, but neither could they ever have been truly refined. Her eyes were heavily lidded, and age had not been kind to her skin, which was very light and seemed to have wrinkled more than say Mrs Annesley's, who was of a similar age, in her early forties.

Oh well, it was clear enough these gentlemen tried to please Elizabeth because they thought she was in their adored prince's good graces, having caught his attention so quickly and so totally. For he was trying to make eye-contact with Elizabeth even now, while he was undoubtedly discussing Eric's romantic music, a much more interesting subject of conversation than what Elizabeth and himself had been talking about. He seemed to want to include her in their lively discussion, but that would bring his whole entourage down on Eric and Georgiana, who might not appreciate being groomed by men of influence right before they'd have to face another hall filled with admirers. Let them talk to the prince in peace, while Elizabeth entertained a gaggle of gentlemen, like she'd seen Mrs Kemble do so skilfully in Newcastle.

It was much better not to have the prince paying attention to her, it would make Fitzwilliam jealous as well as Mrs Fitzherbert. Just like Nick Fowler feared Fitzwilliam because he had power over ordinary servants, so Elizabeth instinctively felt it was better not to be noticed by someone so much more powerful than her husband as the heir to the British throne. Despite liking the Prince, he seemed the kind of person she could get along with really well, he was kind, intelligent and even learned, she preferred to let their acquaintance end here. The guzzling of wine going on around her and in which he participated reminded her of the stories surrounding Frederick's clique. Nice enough at first glance, but who knew what was going on behind the scenes?

'Mrs Darcy, would you like another glass of wine?' one of the younger men asked. He had been one of those completely taken by the music, she couldn't help that influencing her opinion of him for the better.

'Thank you for your offer, Lord Every,' she replied as a matron to a youngster, when he must be about her own age, 'this is excellent wine, but isn't it a lot stronger than common vintages?'

At least three of the older men took turns telling her how Madeira wine was made on the far-away island, how it was aged, and how it acquired its sweetness and high percentage of alcohol. She still hadn't answered the young Lord's question, though, and she dared not be rude and refuse his offer altogether, but she could not let herself become intoxicated either, that would be very dangerous to her reputation and possibly even her virtue.

'I always drink my wine well-watered, but I would not desecrate Madeira wine that way. Therefore I will beg you to give me just the wine, one third of a glass instead of a full?'

He was young enough to comply, and she would make it last until they were ready to leave, which could not be long. Mrs Fitzherbert was keeping an eye on her watch, Elizabeth had seen her check it regularly. She could not want Elizabeth to linger, nor did Elizabeth want to do anything else with the Prince besides taking leave of him very politely. Too bad he had such a reputation for being a philanderer, or she could have enjoyed talking to him.

Elizabeth did not own a pocket watch, but by the time she was thoroughly fed up with her current company she was certain it was time for them to go. So far she had refrained from looking in Eric and Georgiana's direction, not to give their host the opportunity to catch her eye, but now she really wanted to know how her brother and sister were faring. She looked up and saw both of them talking with the other couple, they seem to have a good time, even Georgiana. Excusing herself to her companions she moved towards the little group and was received heartily.

'Mrs Darcy, you managed to escape my entourage! And now I suppose you are going to help Mr and Mrs Fielding to escape mine. Too bad, I would have liked to hear more about Mr Fielding's travels to Prague, I was so taken by his musical representation of the rough country around it. And I was looking forward to getting to know you, Mrs Darcy, we only exchanged a few polite sentences. Are you really going to the country to hunt?'

'I certainly am, Your Highness,' Elizabeth replied, tickled he should choose the topic that would scandalise most men. 'I can't wait to try my Christmas present.'

'The hunter was your Christmas present? Your husband must love you a great deal to gift you with a horse.'

Elizabeth smiled, maybe this could shock him.

'Actually, he gave me a hunting rifle, made especially to my size.'

'He did not! An English gentleman gifting his wife a rifle, so she can ride astride and shoot? Are you going to jump obstacles as well?'

'I suppose I'll have to during a hunt, don't you think? I've never hunted before, I'm going to have a lot to learn. Are you a sportsman, Your Highness?'

He didn't look like it, but who knew what kind of a rider he was. Though most chubby men were sedentary types. He did look slightly sad.

'I used to be when I was still a young man. But these days I'm mostly too busy to leave town, I love driving my own phaeton and ponies and I do ride whenever I get the chance but alas, no time for hunting trips. And usually there is a carriage waiting to take me wherever I want. I hear your husband has the most wonderful team in town, though I suppose he is an avid sportsman as well if he wants you to ride and even hunt.'

Elizabeth did not check her laugh and observed, 'I kind of take them for granted, his thoroughbreds, but they are really fast indeed, I left Kent an hour before lunch and arrived in time for this visit. Though I didn't have time to dress to newspaper standards. But you are right, as proud as Mr Darcy is of his team, he much prefers to ride. He cannot wait to go back to the country.'

'I can hear you are longing for it, too, Mrs Darcy. But I hope you'll do us the honour of waiting on us one last time before leaving. Maybe Monday evening, or the next? If you bring Mr Darcy I'll make sure to leave my entourage behind, and we can talk after listening to Mr and Mrs Fielding.'

'They're leaving on Monday, George, you were just in time to catch them in town.'

Good, it was better Mrs Fitzherbert tell him they could not come.

'That cannot be true! I was looking forward so much to hearing those magnificent compositions again, and to claiming Mrs Darcy for a whole evening of lively conversation. But there is still tomorrow, isn't there?'

Visit on a Sunday? He could not be serious!

'Never mind, I can see you're scandalized by my suggestion to have fun on a Sunday. But I'm certain Mr and Mrs Fielding here play their pianos on the day of the Lord, and not just hymns. You are never deprived of superior music, Mrs Darcy, as I am, all too often.'

He was right, of course, they did play the usual on Sundays. And the others enjoyed their efforts thoroughly and without a bad conscience.

'Can't you postpone one day, please? All of you? It would make me very happy, Mrs Darcy. And I would make it worth your while, Mr Fielding. I know young couples can use some help to form their own establishment, and I am known as a patron of the arts. I can help you make a name for yourself beyond the adulation and the papers, among people who truly appreciate music. Please think about it.'

Of course they could not refuse. Elizabeth didn't want to come back here but she could not admit to that or even show it in her expression, they'd have to go and appear pleased. At least she'd have Fitzwilliam with her, if only he wouldn't show his jealousy too badly.

Eric merely looked tired, already, and he had another concert in a few hours, but Georgiana could not help showing some alarm. She wanted to leave town, really badly, which was not like her at all, so it must have to do with her wanting to be alone with Eric. And rightly so, they had had no honeymoon or even more than a day's rest from concerts for over three months. And even on their very wedding they had been the subject of adulation and speculation. But they dared not refuse, that much was clear.

Help came from an unexpected quarter. Mrs Fitzherbert might be a mere mistress, she knew how to handle her man, be he the Heir Presumptive to the most important country in the world. She took him to the side for a few moments, then they both returned.

'I'm sorry,' the Prince now remarked, 'I'm often a bit selfish, people tend to give me what I want even if it is unreasonable. Maria tells me you haven't even had a honeymoon, and that you are very tired, Mr Fielding. In fact, I can see you are, and you have another show this evening. I will not make any more demands on your time, your music will keep, and if I cannot wait for next season any longer, or find someone else to play romantic music for me, I'll visit you in Derbyshire. Just myself and Maria, Mrs Darcy, don't worry. I want to see you ride astride and hunt, I think I can still shoot a few pheasants myself. Will you take your surprising little instrument with you, Mr Fielding?'

Eric was almost speechless with relief, but he did manage a reply.

'I suppose I will, Your Highness, there is no Zumpe at Pemberley. Though we never discussed it. It is not very large, but it may be too unwieldy and heavy to bring along.'

'We probably will, Your Highness,' Georgiana bravely said. 'If Eric wants to compose and practise he will need the right instrument. But first we are going to take a whole week off, he is tired and so am I. Thank you for understanding.'

She didn't believe one moment that this man would travel four days to hear romantic music, but Elizabeth wasn't so sure. She might want to herself, if she didn't have Eric living with them. Maybe he should have taught someone to keep the genre alive. Though of course he had been teaching Mr Clementi.

'Is Mr Clementi ready to play for an audience?' she asked.

'He played for an audience before I was even born, but romantic music is almost the opposite of his own style. I'm afraid he won't consent to perform until he has written his own music at the very least. No, I'm afraid he will take at least six months to meet his own standards and get the right material. Though he must have plenty of interesting experiences to write about, his youth in Italy, his apprenticeship there, wandering the country in his journeyman years, Tuscany, Rome, the Pantheon, Venice. Somehow, playing romantic music brings it all back, he'll start putting his life's experiences to music soon, mark my words.'

'And who is this?' the Prince asked, interested.

'Mr Clementi, Your Highness, a builder of beautiful pianos like your own, as well as a composer, performer and teacher of every music style known to pianists. He lives right here in London. He has been teaching me but is also learning the romantic style, with my help. We have become good friends, though he must be near sixty.'

'Ah, Mr Clementi, I know of him, he is a favourite of my father's. I never did dare invite him over but I suppose if he is the only one remotely competent in this fabulous new music style I'll take the chance. My esteemed father doesn't care much for newfangled things, he will resist a new kind of music, which means your Mr Clementi may want to perform for me instead. Good, I will send someone over to show an interest, so he doesn't lose his motivation to develop this new style with you days away in the North. Are his instruments any good?'

'Certainly, they're much like your grand piano, very high quality, beautifully decorated and very expensive. Same clear sound, too.'

'So you'd use your piano to teach him?'

'He has bought one of these, a larger, decorated one. When Mr Zumpe used to be his most fervent competitor. Mr Zumpe made this little piano, but he usually makes much larger ones. The sound is the same, though.'

'Very interesting, I could talk music and instruments for hours. But Maria is gesturing it is time to let you go to your next appointment, so I will, under protest. Good bye, Mr and Mrs Fielding, it was a pleasure to meet you and hear you play.

And Mrs Darcy, I truly wish you'd stay. You don't need to go to the concert, do you? You can have dinner with us and we can talk sensibly and drink wine.'

Elizabeth laughed merrily, what else could she do?

'I was not planning on attending the concert, Your Highness. I was up at seven to ramble through a lovely park in Kent, then left for London just before lunch and arrived at half past three. My maid managed to do my hair afresh, but you see me in the same dress I travelled in, packed off as soon as I returned. I have had a great time and I'm glad I came, but I am also rather tired and not up to entertaining someone of your intelligence and knowledge all by myself, I'd only disappoint you.'

But now Mrs Fitzherbert surprised Elizabeth by showing she was no stranger to being spoiled and used to getting her way. And, apparently, not afraid of the competition.

'Please do, Mrs Darcy, I'll give you a tour of the house and then show you to a room where you can rest for an hour, and my ladies will choose a suitable dress for you from my collection. I'm certain we have one in your size, they'll make you feel like a veritable princess. Please indulge George and myself, we'll send away all these men, and I promise you'll be home with Mr Darcy at ten 'o clock sharp.'

'Yes, Mrs Darcy, please?' the Prince pleaded, 'you can even have your wine watered.'

He said it as if it was a grand concession, and his cheeky expression broke Elizabeth's will, if that was the price she had to pay for them all to be able to leave on Monday, so be it. Frankly, she was dying to get a tour of the house, this one minor room was so magnificent the rest must be absolutely stunning. And Mrs Fitzherbert would be there the whole time.

'All right, you've convinced me, I'll stay for dinner. Fitzwilliam will not be pleased, but I'll make it up to him.'

She still wondered how the Prince knew she was worried about the wine, had he been listening in on her conversation with his hangers-on while talking to Eric and Georgiana?

Though Georgiana seemed rather shocked at Elizabeth's conceding, their host and hostess were truly pleased, and Eric really did understand her action. His sister-in-law was giving a powerful and spoiled man a tiny part of what he wanted, to get away with refusing him the rest. She had made a good deal as far as he was concerned, she obviously didn't dislike the idea of seeing the whole house, and he could imagine her enjoying dinner as well, in all its richness and exclusiveness. And with Mrs Fitzherbert around all the time her virtue would also be safe.

But it did mean he and Georgiana would have to be the bearers of bad news, telling Darcy his wife was not coming home, yet, but staying at Carlton House for another few hours in the sole presence of the Prince of Wales and his current mistress. Eric didn't fear Darcy's anger, he was a reasonable man and would understand there had been no escape for Elizabeth. No, Eric feared that Darcy would be crushed, spending every minute his beloved was away from him in acute distress. He was so protective of his young wife, and Eric suspected he still underestimated her. He'd be afraid she had let herself be taken in by the British equivalent of Don Juan, when as far as Eric could see it was actually Elizabeth who had charmed both the Prince and his mistress. Well, he and Georgiana were wise, married people now, and they would try their very best to convince Darcy that all would be well, really.

Of course Darcy could not fault Georgie and Fielding for returning with their beloved piano but without his beloved wife. But no-one, not even Manners and Anne together, could convince him to attend the very last concert of this season with the rest of them. He would stay in and wait for Elizabeth to come home, what if something had happened and she was upset when she returned? She'd need him and he had to be there for her.

When they had all said good bye and left, he fetched a novel from the library. He didn't usually read novels, but Elizabeth had recommended this one highly and he knew other people's troubles were perfect to forget one's own for a few hours. Which worked for almost an hour, she was right, it was well-written and even quite entertaining, but then his stomach started rumbling, breaking his concentration and reminding him he hadn't been able to eat at dinner time. Who could spend time on something as inconsequential as dinner when the light of his life might be seduced by the second most powerful man in the Kingdom at that very same moment? A man who had mistress after mistress, all smart and beautiful, and generally married.

Time came to a halt as his thoughts turned bleak and his stomach churned. He should eat something but he just couldn't, poor Elizabeth, sacrificing herself for her brother and sister. And for him, why hadn't she agreed to come back the next day, or Monday? Then she would have had him to protect her from the Prince.

Maybe she didn't want him around, maybe she was afraid he'd make a fool of himself out of jealousy. It was not unthinkable. It was even likely he'd be jealous if yet another man showed his admiration as blatantly as so many others had done. But what if she didn't want him there because she was actually interested in her powerful host? What if she wanted him to fall for her? So many married women had chosen him over their lawful husbands.

This despicable train of thoughts was fortunately cut short by the door opening. Blushing with shame as if the person entering could read his thoughts he looked up and saw Simon approaching very carefully, tray in his hands. Simon, still acting like a servant? Why?

'Mr Darcy? Frederick said you'd eaten hardly anything at dinner. He was worried and asked me to look in on you, maybe talk a little. Do you mind?'

No he did not mind. In fact he needed to talk to someone, for if he did not those despicable thoughts might find a hold in his mind and poison it, then damage his bond with the woman he loved and trusted. He trusted Elizabeth, why would he think such a thing?

'Don't underestimate the only woman you could love in all of ten years, Darcy.'

Simon's address had changed, not only was he suddenly as familiar as Darcy had asked him to be, his tone was more masculine and rather more decisive than he had ever heard it. This was the man speaking, not the servant. Surprised, Darcy looked up, Simon had put away the tray and now sat down right next to him.

'Your wife may be young but she is not naïve. What can a tubby, forty-year-old, average-looking man offer her that you haven't already given her? Riches? Expensive clothes? Status? You know she doesn't care about those. And our Crown Prince may be spoiled but I am convinced he is a sensible man, he does not force women to give themselves to him. There is no danger, all will be well. Won't you eat something after all? Your wife trusts us to keep you healthy. I've brought soup and a few pastries, nothing more.'

He was so right, and he was such an admirable man. Darcy was glad he was now independently wealthy as well.

'I will try to stop worrying, and I will eat, I'm hungry. And Simon?'

Still the man sitting there next to him, Darcy remembered this side of Simon from years of close companionship. When had he turned into a servant? Had Elizabeth done that to him? Or had the harassment over his preferences damaged him?

'Thank you. For everything you did for me all those years. I'm sorry that my love for Elizabeth drove us apart, we used to be such good friends.'

Now Simon smiled as if he instantly remembered all those times they spent together, well, at least partly together.

'It was my pleasure, despite my unfulfilled wishes I enjoyed most of them very much. And please don't reproach yourself or Mrs Darcy. I decided to take a step back when Frederick came to live with us: I didn't want to draw attention to myself. I may have gone a little too far...'

And he meant it, he really made his own decision to become the perfect servant! That was a huge relief, to part with someone who had spent a significant part of his life on him would be much easier for Darcy, knowing there would be no disappointment or reproaches towards him.

Simon's expression became soft for a fraction of a second, then he patted Darcy on his shoulder none too gently and stated, 'Come, you need to eat something. I'm sure Mrs Darcy will be faced with foie gras and ragout at this very moment and you know how she detests over-seasoned gourmet food. You may sympathise with her hardships but please don't aim to suffer the pangs of hunger instead.'

That was exactly how Manners described his friends showing affection, Simon even sounded like a college boy! Such a born actor! Deciding to turn the tables on him for a change, Darcy replied as bashfully as he could, 'I submit to your sound reasoning, please allow me to have some of this soup, and I won't decline a pastry either.'

And so Darcy ate his soup with Simon looking on benevolently. After that Simon even joined him by eating one of the pastries himself.

'Oh, that is very good, excellent in every respect. You have a great cook, Darcy, worth every penny you pay him.'

'And don't forget the exclusive ingredients he needs to buy, they cost almost as much as his salary. But it's all worth it, that is certain.'

Pretty soon the tray was empty of food, and Simon sent him one more look of great fondness then retreated back to his own domain. Leaving Darcy alone with his thoughts once again, though he did manage to get back into the action of the novel.

When he finally heard a carriage outside there was no-one to see him running towards the window, eager to ascertain it was indeed Elizabeth arriving, but also quite a bit interested to see the kind of equipage the heir to the throne would use to have a lady visitor taken home. But the carriage waiting outside was all too familiar and the people as well, checking the clock Darcy discovered it was past eleven, a normal time for Georgie and the others to return. Where was Elizabeth?

Of course they all tried to soothe him that all would be well but he could see the doubt in their eyes. Soon they all paired off and took their leave to go to bed, leaving Darcy behind once again, to worry even more. Still he did not blame Elizabeth, Georgie and Fielding had described how much pressure both Prince George and his lady had brought to bear on poor Elizabeth before she'd agreed to stay for dinner.

As the hands of the clock crept towards twelve, Darcy started to despair she'd even come home at all. What was happening at Carlton House? Could the plain, chubby middle-aged Prince have forced Elizabeth to do as pleased him? She couldn't want to actually be with him, could she? She loved only him, didn't she? He didn't want to doubt her but he couldn't help himself, and in an agony of feelings he waited and waited for what seemed like hours.

At half past twelve, the sound of shod hoofs on cobblestones announced Elizabeth's return, and amidst all his feelings Darcy was to glad to be mostly relieved she was coming home, and not at all angry at her for being late. None of this was her fault, she must have been aching to go home all this time.

Before the carriage had come to a halt Darcy had ran down the hall and burst out of the front door. He had no sense of dignity or sedateness left, he just wanted his beloved in his arms. Or did he? A tiny part of him did register that the expected fancy equipage was not there, not the heavy coach pulled by four solid greys each with a liveried groom, no gold plate or fancy ornamentation. This was actually just a high perch phaeton with a pair of magnificent chestnut ponies. Even their blazes seemed perfectly matched in the moonlight. A phaeton? That could only mean Elizabeth was accompanied by none other than the Prince of Wales himself, who had the reputation of choosing to drive himself in such a smart and quick conveyance.

But all thought of princes, carriages and even of horses instantly fled his mind when he saw his beloved coming towards him, enveloped in a priceless fur coat. She was as glad to see him, and even though a burly shape behind her proved it was indeed the prince himself who had returned her they could not but fall into a tight embrace. To have the light of his life back safely, and in his arms where she belonged was a relief beyond imagination. She did not smell as usual, but the thick fur coat might account for that, apparently it had come from some place of storage for it smelled faintly of moth-repellent herbs. Her hair was also different from usual, nice, but done up much more intricately than he had ever seen it.

'I'm so sorry to be late, my love, there was so much to see, we totally lost track of time.'

She held him at arms' length, fortunately her arms were much shorter than his own and she was not too far away, and said feelingly, 'You've been worried sick, I can see it. I'll make it up to you, I promise.'

It was hard to regain control of his feelings, but now he knew Elizabeth was safe and aware she was very late, Darcy did not want to humiliate himself further before his future monarch. He had shown his feelings much too strongly, he was not ashamed to adore his beautiful perfect wife, but very ashamed not to just have trusted her to return when the circumstances allowed it.

'Oh, to be young, beautiful and so much in love,' spoke an amused voice right in front of him. 'Please don't blame your wife, Mr Darcy, it's all my fault. I'm afraid I'm terribly spoiled and used to getting my way. Mrs Darcy did not dare refuse me her company for a few more hours.'

Darcy looked up from Elizabeth's delicious throat which he was planning to kiss next, it was bad manners to ignore anyone, not just the royal heir, they would have plenty of time for kisses and the likes later.

'Thank you for bringing her back yourself, Your Highness.'

'It was the least I could do, I knew it would be a bit chilly at this time of the year to use my private team, but you have no idea how long it takes to ready my official carriage. Mrs Darcy assured me she would not be offended to sit in a simple rig in an ancient fur coat if only it would take her home quickly to spare you further anguish. You are a lucky man, Mr Darcy, I've heard it took you ten years to find your true love and I assure you, it was time well-spent.'

He offered a surprisingly firm handshake, and Darcy could not help liking this man, despite what the papers said about his spendthrift and shameful affairs. And despite him saying he was spoiled without showing the slightest form of shame for being thus. He knew he was used to getting his way but obviously thought he had the right to expect people to do his bidding. Never mind, as long as he left Darcy's wife alone he was welcome to his entitlement.

'I'm very glad to have met your husband, Mrs Darcy, and to find him handsome, decent, and very fond of you. You deserve to be loved.

Mr Darcy, I'm looking forward to getting to know you, next season in London, or maybe a little before that if your brother-in-law's music keeps haunting my mind day and night as it does even now.'

Darcy bowed as deeply as he managed to acknowledge the Prince's kindness, though he had no idea what the man meant with his allusions to hearing Fielding play again before next fall. Hopefully he was not going to summon them to Carlton House in the middle of summer. Well, Darcy was not going to ask, better to let sleeping dogs lie.

'Well, Mr Darcy, Mrs Darcy, I'd better return to my own house before I'm spotted by some overzealous reporter, though for their benefit I hope they are allowed to go home at night. It has been a true pleasure to have your company, Mrs Darcy, thank you very much for obliging me. Feel free to keep both the coat and the dress, Maria doesn't fit them anymore, and she doesn't like to go out in public anyway, for obvious reasons.'

He took Elizabeth's hand and kissed it reverently, and Darcy thought of galloping Bucephalus across a certain long hill close to Pemberley, an incongruity but the situation needed his favourite horse as well as his favourite place to be. Then they shook hands once again, the Prince reminding Darcy of Manners, the same outgoing jolliness but underneath that, the conviction to know best and the iron will to enforce it.

'Thank you very much for your kindness, Your Highness, and will you please convey my regards to Mrs Fitzherbert? I've had a magnificent time. And my heartfelt thanks for the offer of coat and dress. Please do not be offended if I return them after all, it's not that I don't love them but I have little opportunity to wear garments of such magnificence and they belong to Mrs Fitzherbert, I'm quite certain she is attached to them, she did hold onto them for all these years.'

Well, someone at least was not impressed by the Prince's forcefulness. Pride for his strong-willed beloved filled Darcy, and he couldn't wait to tell her so.

'I bow to your superior knowledge of the female mind, Mrs Darcy. Come to think of it, Maria does get attached to clothes. Thank you for thinking of my domestic felicity. Good night!'

And with that he turned on his heels, climbed the high seat with remarkable agility for such a heavy man, and drove off. Shame it was the middle of the night, Darcy would have loved to check out that team.


	126. Chapter 126

Chapter 136

Elizabeth was very relieved when she came home to find her beloved slightly needy rather than angry or truly upset. He'd be tested a little further since Prince George was almost certain to give her a sentimental and very familiar send-off, but even that was worth it since it had gotten her home so much more quickly than waiting for His Highness' carriage. And meeting the man Fitzwilliam might realise his beloved was in fact not interested at all in the powerful and spoiled heir to the throne, despite his charm and interesting conversation. Oh well, if it triggered one of those strange spells she'd deal with it, he didn't know it yet but there had been reason to worry. Maybe there still was...

Fitzwilliam locked the door behind them, so the others were back already. Of course they were, it was incredibly late and Simon no longer watched the door at night, unless his beloved was out.

'Did you manage to enjoy yourself, my love?'

How calm and sweet he sounded, Elizabeth had not been afraid of her reception, she could never fear her beloved, but she had not expected him to be merely incredibly glad to see her. No sign of doubt, no reproaches, just pure joy to have her back.

'Very much indeed, my love. Can you believe it? Do you want to hear about it? They showed me the house, dinner was surprisingly sensible. Mr Hurst would have been disappointed at the lack of fancy dishes, though he would have loved the desserts.'

'I can't wait to hear it all, my love. Do you want to go to bed straight away or sit in the drawing-room a little longer? There is no-one left awake, though, they were all tired. Or eager for some time together.'

Elizabeth felt a smile forming on her lips, Fitzwilliam still had some trouble thinking of his baby-sister as a woman. And the day after tomorrow they would be off to Pemberley! For a few instances today it had seemed unlikely they would manage to flee town, but she really believed she had convinced Prince George that Mr Fielding needed the respite or risk losing some of his genius composing.

'I do want a drink of water, I tried to hold back on the wine but it was a long night and they were very generous with it. I had it watered down or I would not have come home tonight, Fitzwilliam. I'll tell you about that later.'

And she would. She promised she'd tell him everything, and though she had not kept that promise where Wickham was concerned she would do so now.

'But we can just go to the kitchen, do you know where Cook keeps the potable water?'

Though alarmed by her offhand remark, Fitzwilliam did not say anything besides, 'I do, ever since that mess with Janine and Theo I've kept direct contact with Cook, I know the kitchen well by now. Let me get that coat and put it somewhere safe, it must be worth a fortune. To think he'd just have given it to you.'

'It wasn't his to give, which characterizes our heir to the throne perfectly: generous and kind, but unaware of the feelings of others. Until he has his nose rubbed in them, which as you witnessed he accepts perfectly well. I suppose too few dare do that to their future king, though.'

Now her beloved beamed with pride.

'But you did it, like you taught me a very valuable lesson. I'm sure if you'd stayed, the country would have benefited and his reputation improved. But I'm not going to sacrifice my own happiness for the good of the country. I love you so much, Elizabeth, I've been in such an agony of fear all night.'

He had taken her in his arms, priceless coat and all, and held her so tightly she almost had trouble breathing. She had to be the happiest woman alive, to have run into a man who loved her so tenderly that he had held onto his love for her though she had broken his heart. And who loved her so exclusively he didn't even look at other women anymore, when plenty admired him wherever they went.

After exchanging a few loving kisses he did help her out of the coat, and stood gaping at the dress underneath. It was spectacular, Elizabeth had to admit, and she felt like a princess wearing it, especially with her hair done up in a matching elaborate fashion by two perfectly groomed ladies in waiting. It was a fashion from a different class than her own, and from a different decade as well, Mrs Fitzherbert said she'd worn it as debutante to St James', which had to be more than twenty years ago.

It showed, the waist was much lower than was fashionable these days, with a much tighter top and without the flowing skirts that Miss Fillinger seemed to have a talent for designing. Not that even one of Miss Filliger's creations would have managed to flow with this many pearls and glistening stones sewn on, it totally illustrated the word encrusted and weighed accordingly. But when Elizabeth had seen herself in the ornamental mirror of her guest room she had nearly cried out in admiration of the look her attendants had created for her. This was a wholly different level of dress than she could ever aspire to, and she was going to enjoy the memory of it thoroughly before changing into split skirts once they reached Pemberley.

Seeing Fitzwilliam's awed admiration Elizabeth was really glad she hadn't insisted on changing back into her own dress before returning. She'd felt a bit uncomfortable not leaving the priceless dress in Mrs Fitzherbert's care, but after what happened that night she didn't want to take the time to change nor offer her hosts the temptation, she just wanted to return home as quickly as possible, even if that meant sitting in a carriage all by herself with Prince George. Her discomfort was heightened with the hastily fetched fur coat added to the borrowed clothing, but on the other hand, the thick layer of extra fabric felt very snug and secure as well.

'You look incredibly beautiful, my love.'

To have him watching her with adulation felt as good as it was disconcerting to have another look at her that way. She would have expected Fitzwilliam to find it a little too much, she thought it was too much herself, though a girl liked to dress up every once in a while.

'But it's also a bit disconcerting, as if you're not you, not my dearest Elizabeth but some court lady far beyond my reach. Your hair, too, it must have taken two hours to put it up like that.'

Actually, those two ladies did that in half an hour. And they chatted almost as nicely as Fanny while they worked, except Elizabeth knew practically no-one they mentioned. Apparently they moved in different circles altogether, though even they proved to read the papers and knew of the shop in Cheapside and Frederick's New Year's Eve Ball. It appeared they thought that too docile to attend, more for the Queen's ladies, so to speak. These ladies seemed to have taken a page out of the Blackwood twins' book, or even Frederick's college clique's: they liked their parties wild. Spirits, a lot of men, though they were both as yet unmarried, and no hesitation at all to continue to celebrate life throughout the night and even on Sundays. Frankly, Elizabeth had been a bit shocked to hear their wild stories of what was going on the the very top layer of British society, but of course she would not let them know that.

'It took two ladies-in-waiting half an hour, they were very good. Still I prefer Fanny, she has a wholesome influence on me, whereas these two were of much better breeding than me but very, very naughty. They could use someone like Nick Fowler to keep them in line.'

'I suppose there are limits to what even he could do, my dear. It sounds as if things are indeed going on in Carlton House that can barely stand the light of day.'

'You are right, they'd never take orders from a commoner. They'd just as likely seduce him, I'm afraid. But they did not hold the worst of those parties at Carlton House, Mrs Fitzherbert is over forty, she prefers quiet and cultured gatherings over bacchanals.'

Though the current Lady of Carlton House did not eschew the occasional enjoyment of sinful practices herself, especially overindulging in spirits. Elizabeth was fast discovering that people sinned a lot more than she'd always thought, and though part of her feared for those of them that she liked, even loved, another part of her, that had awakened under Simon's guidance, relished how they had taken their lives into their own hands.

'Well, I'm glad you're back and in one piece. Let's go upstairs and crawl into bed, and you can tell me everything.'

Absolutely everything.

It was always such a pleasure to undress each other, and despite the late hour this time was no exception. Darcy started with his beloved's hair, it was not easy to find which pins to take out first, and eventually he asked Elizabeth to sit next to the lamp to be able to see what he was doing. Still he managed to take the creation apart and her hair fell over her shoulders, freed until tomorrow morning. It had taken quite long, and Elizabeth was impatient to start on his shirt and coat, so he didn't offer to brush it for her. Fanny would take care of that, tomorrow morning.

Before long they were lying in bed, snuggled up to each other, and they kissed and stroked to their hearts' content.

'Now, will you tell me about the Prince? Georgie and Fielding didn't have much time to tell us how the concert went, they had to leave right after dinner and came back knackered. Though I got the impression all went well, and they did tell me not to worry, that the Prince did admire you but that you and his lady could handle him. They said you stayed because otherwise he would have insisted on the lot of us going there either on a Sunday or postpone going to the country.'

He could feel her nod against his side, and she replied, 'They were right, and I'm not certain he will leave us alone once we're at Pemberley, though usually city folk don't care than much about what happens far to the north. But he really did love Eric's music, and there is a chance he will be unable to forget it. In which case he will not hesitate to send for Eric, he is used to getting his way and thinks nothing of inconveniencing people for his own comfort. The world is his playground, and both Mrs Fitzherbert and I had to point out a few times that I was not put on this earth to please him. That didn't anger him, he's not bad at heart, just selfish.'

What could this much older man have asked of Elizabeth that she didn't want to give him? She had hinted several times now that she had more or less escaped from Carlton House, which was still a bit worrying though she didn't seem afraid or even put out. And they certainly had parted on the best of terms, Prince George and Elizabeth.

She told him how she had rambled and talked with Mrs Fitzherbert, then watched the Prince and his friends during the concert. How she had talked to him during the break, and to his cronies afterwards.

'So while Mrs Fitzherbert helped Georgiana and Eric avoid having to stay in London to play for him again, she practically lured me into staying for dinner, by offering to show me the house. I cannot help it, I love to get a glimpse of people's lives, and her tour certainly didn't disappoint.

We did that right after Georgiana and Eric had taken the piano and gone home. I was tired, but the prospect of seeing in person all those rooms the papers speculated on was enough to keep me wide awake. I didn't mind looking slightly dishevelled by now, for it was clear the Prince did have an interest in me, I tried to shock him several times, by mentioning that I rode astride and had my own rifle, but he actually loved that, like you. I thought looking less than my best might put him off, though he did not accompany us on the tour of the house.'

See, it was as he thought, if his uncle and most other intelligent older men were still charmed by Elizabeth, a developed man like Prince George would most certainly be interested, he did not get his reputation as a philanderer out of thin air.

'Mrs Fitzherbert really enjoyed giving me a tour, she started by walking from the music room through folding doors into a smaller room that was decorated solely with Chinese objects, in strong colours and a totally different style from what we are used to seeing. I was stunned. The next room was even smaller, about the size of our dining room. Then we crossed another set of folding doors into a traditional ante room, huge but not for Carlton House, and furnished with lovely rugs and expensive French chairs. I wanted to linger and look at the paintings, but Mrs Fitzherbert obviously thought nothing of that single room and took me right to an incredible staircase, less lavishly decorated but with a priceless chandelier watching over it and such a unique shape of the stairs. We moved up a floor and I saw the staircase leading to the top floor, which was even more grand, and very bright for all that is was in the middle of the house. Then we came into the fabled octagonal room, which was astounding. Not because of the décor, that was much the same as the other rooms except for a few angry-looking marble statues of old men, but because of the lighting. It had no windows to the sides but a beautiful glass roof like a huge bell-jar high above us, and three door openings without actual doors but draped in velvet and brocade. We went through one into a huge hall. I've never seen anything like it in my life, my love, it was two stories high and there were real columns all around it. Huge columns of yellow marble inside a house! Except Mrs Fitzherbert said they weren't actually made of marble but some Italian technique that resembles marble perfectly but can be made to look exactly as one wishes. I couldn't see the difference, though I suppose this is less costly. Imagine getting a marble column that size from Italy to England.

The roof was incredibly high, like the library where we attended the lecture on the renaissance, but this hall was even larger and the roof was made of squares of wood with the glass fitted inside. The floor had carpeting all over. Mrs Fitzherbert liked to see my admiration and I didn't hesitate to show it, I'm still a country girl after all, my love, I was so impressed by miles of carpeting, lavish gilding, oceans of velvet and the most expensive and exclusive statues, ornaments, China and paintings, so many paintings! Portraits, but also landscapes and seascapes, so incredibly beautiful.

'I'm afraid we don't have time to view everything, Mrs Darcy, so you'll have to choose: do you want to see the formal chambers, the throne room and the formal dining room for instance, or would you prefer to skip the state apartments and let me take you to the top floor, to the armoury, maybe to George's private quarters, he won't mind showing you around either, and since you loved the garden so much, maybe the conservatory? George is planning a magnificent new one but much more formal, we should enjoy this one while we still can since it actually has plants in it.'

I asked her to let me think for a moment, but of course I already knew what I wanted: see those parts of the house no-one else ever saw.

After a few moments I said, 'I choose the top floor, Mrs Fitzherbert, though I couldn't possibly bother the Prince of Wales in his private chambers. It's too much honour but also rather improper. The conservatory sounds much more suitable, and I love nature, even confined to a building.'

Mrs Fitzherbert wasn't offended by my frankness, but she was very much amused.

'I assure you George wouldn't mind at all, I'm quite certain he rather likes you. But you're young and newly married, and I'm also quite certain your cleverness hides a strong sense of right. So we'll skip George's rooms for now, and start with the armoury. The state rooms are more of the same anyway, if you've seen one, you've seen them all. I've lived in all kinds of houses, Mrs Darcy, and it's the people that make the difference, expensive furniture doesn't make up for lack of love.'

I thought of Anne and could only agree, though I wondered whether my hostess had ever lived in anything less comfortable than Longbourn or Charlotte's house.'

Everyone knew Mrs Fitzherbert had been married two times, and had an independent income from her marriages. But she had most likely lived by herself for some years, and in London that might mean in a small apartment.

'I wouldn't be surprised if she'd lived in less than that, remember, this is a large city and she wasn't always Prince George's consort. It would have been interesting to see her rooms, for I'm certain she has her own.'

'She does, I did see them, they were on the top floor and surprisingly modest and in excellent taste. I'm afraid Mrs Fitzherbert has no illusions about her life with the Prince, she seems loath to get used to splendour. Imagine expecting to be discarded in due time.'

'That is so sad. But she wasn't sad at all, was she?'

'No, she seemed pretty happy. She took me up that beautiful staircase, onto a gallery that looked down upon the octagonal room. It was a marvel, so beautiful with the sky overhead. Of course it was starting to get dusky outside, but still it was beautiful, the pure colours, the velvet hangings, the gilded ornamentation, everything. We passed several chambers, including her own, which she showed me, and another, more elaborately decorated one with a gorgeous four-poster bed with satin drapes. The room was very feminine, with a walnut dressing-table and a beautifully carved walnut wash stand. The bed was a generous size, almost a double.

'After our tour, you can rest in this room until it is time to dress for dinner. I will find you a suitable court dress, though we will be with just the three of us I'm certain George will be pleased to have us dress up for the occasion. My ladies will attend to you, they are very good, they're from excellent families themselves.'

I did wonder where they were at that moment, if they were ladies they could hardly be in the servants' quarters, could they? But I didn't ask. Somehow the chamber bothered me, it was too richly furnished for a commonplace guest like me. But it had a good lock on the inside so I thanked my hostess and we resumed our tour.

The armoury was magnificent, arms everywhere, from modern to ancient, from efficient to gruesome. There were suits of armour as well, and arms from exotic cultures, from as far as China, Japan and Mongolia. You'd love to visit that, anyone would. I guess we may have spent as much as an hour up there, and then we went back through the house, through the back door and to the conservatory. Fitzwilliam, I want one of those, I can do without all the riches, but I'll never forget the scent of orange blossom in that beautiful warm place. The orange trees weren't that attractive at all, and the flowers are much less pretty than some of our most persistent weeds here in Britain. But the smell in that conservatory, and the oranges Mrs Fitzherbert showed me, one can really eat those! She said most of theirs went to the confectioners for desserts and sweets, and I remembered the beautiful cake I'd had during the concert. It must have been flavoured with orange or lemon, Mrs Fitzherbert said they even used the rind as a potent condiment.'

A conservatory, what an excellent idea! It would make a valuable addition to their estate. But where would one get orange trees? Well, someone was bound to know, and he'd get a few and build a place where they could survive winter.

'And you'll have one, my dearest, your very own orange tree. Do you want a confectioner as well?'

She smiled sweetly and kissed him.

'I guess our regular cook will find some recipes, and if not we'll just peel them and eat them. The oranges, not the cook or his helpers.'

'And after the armoury, did you get your well-deserved rest?'

'I certainly did, that is why I was so late: I overslept, I must have been pretty tired not to hear the knocks on my door. I had locked it, so they couldn't shake me to wake me up. When I finally woke, it was past eight, I had slept for a whole hour. Now I did hear the knock, and upon my opening the door two ladies entered, with a magnificent and very elaborate dress. Well, you know, you took it off me.

They helped me wash and put it on, which was quite an accomplishment since it had those side hoops. Have you ever seen a dress like that? They're hopelessly out of fashion but at court apparently they are still worn by everyone. That is what Mrs Fitzherbert told me, she was wearing them herself though she admitted she preferred modern fashion, and had been wearing a very smart dress during the afternoon. Anyway, those ladies arranged the dress and told me how to walk in it, and then they did my hair and made up my face more than I liked. They let me keep my necklace, said it suited me and they didn't have a better one. My slippers, too, were judged acceptable. One hour, they needed no more to gild me so much that when they finally allowed me to look in the mirror I did not recognise myself. I looked like a princess. They let me walk towards the mirror and Fitzwilliam, it did look good, I cannot deny it. But I wondered how the skirts would fall back into place when I sat down and got up afterwards. Still, there would be just an older couple and myself, so why worry, even if one of them was the Heir Presumptive? He was wearing breeches all day, though his hair was totally up to date, I have to admit.'

This was turning out to be a rather long story, and they were both tired, but Darcy wanted to know the rest.

'Mrs Fitzherbert came to take me to the dining room, I excused myself for oversleeping but she laughed it off and said, 'You must have needed it, we're just very glad you agreed to stay. Even though we have guests very often and know a lot of interesting people, somehow our entertainment is always the same. People at this level of society are so sophisticated they never say anything interesting, they're afraid to make a bad impression. It makes them bland and predictable. Your lively manners are like a fresh breeze to us, Mrs Darcy, and your person is no less interesting, you'll see.'

I'm certain Mrs Grenfell would have been devastated to hear that, but somehow I wasn't surprised at all, I met almost a dozen of their hangers-on and they had little of interest to say. They were very good at guzzling expensive wine, though.

We crossed the gallery, now lighted with beautiful lamps, and descended the staircase, really, in that dress I did not walk but glided elegantly.

'You look very elegant, Mrs Darcy,' my hostess complimented me, 'I wore that dress to my debut at St James, years and years ago. It was a beautiful time, but it ended in an unhappy marriage. I never thought I'd end up living like I do now.'

She did not specify whether that last fact pleased her or not, and her tone of voice did not betray her either. I chose to believe she was glad to be loved, be it by a philanderer. After crossing the octagonal room again we entered one opulent, high-ceilinged room after another.

'George has requested we start in the dining room. It is also our public music room, Mrs Darcy, I suppose he hopes you'll tell your brother-in-law all about it and make him so curious he will agree to come play again. I wouldn't be surprised if his favourite brand of piano has been added to George's collection by then.'

'If he does buy a Zumpe, maybe he should bring Mr Clementi with him. He knows which piano's have the right sound. Mr Zumpe makes outstanding instruments, but he is not a musician himself.'

'Thank you for pointing that out to me, I will tell him if needed. Please do not mention it yourself, I still hope he will forget all about this new kind of music until it's in the papers again. It will save your Mr Fielding a world of trouble, though George always uses his influence to better an artist's lot, he compensates handsomely for the time he takes up, and he really knows how to spread someone's name to relatives, acquaintances, connections, you name it. Not just in Britain, abroad as well. But with Mr Fielding so recently married I suppose he wants to spend some time with his girl, not with an elderly heir to the throne with a taste for music and good wine. Let me handle it, Mrs Darcy, if he really wants one of those piano's I'll give him your advice.'

Do most men want a woman to mother them, or is it that women cannot help doing it?'

Darcy didn't know either, his mother never did, and Elizabeth certainly didn't do it. But they had been married less than a year.

'I have no idea, my love. Maybe women who have had children do.'

'Mrs Fitzherbert didn't mention her having any children, but of course she wouldn't.

All this time we were walking through the most amazing rooms, and Mrs Fitzherbert commented, 'You will get to see the throne room after all, since we need to cross that to reach the circular room. You'll like the circular room, if you like music, that is. I kind of took that for granted, but maybe you are fed up with piano's, living with two musicians? I suppose they have to practise a lot?'

I couldn't help laughing, imagine disliking music and hearing Georgiana and Eric play all day long.

'They do put in five to six hours of practice each day, and only half of those in their private quarters. But I like music, and I'm looking forward to seeing any instruments the Prince holds superior to the one in the room where Mr Fielding played. For that was a magnificent piano-forte indeed.'

'I suppose the two instruments are equals, but I'm not an expert. Do you play yourself, Mrs Darcy?'

'Indeed I do, I'd dare call myself a gifted amateur by now. I've had lessons from one of the best masters in London, maybe all of England.'

'I can see you smile, your brother-in-law taught you. Maybe you'd like to play for us, after dinner?'

'Indeed I would, if His Highness can bear to listen to an amateur. He must be used to hearing the very best performers.'

She looked very sly and observed, 'I'm quite certain George will adore your playing, Mrs Darcy. Come, we're here. And I think George is, already. That is quite an honour, he usually likes to make an entrance. He will be stunned to see you in this dress.'

I didn't make anything of her outrageous compliments, but I felt surprisingly at home in these fancy rooms. I think it was the dress and how it made me glide, I felt way above my station. Or maybe the lack of daylight made everything seem more commonplace.'

Darcy suspected his beloved had merely become immune to all the riches around her, mere wealth had never made much of an impression on her, and seeing too much of the same French furniture and priceless paintings would soon become boring to a mind like hers.

'When we entered the room, indeed circular in shape, and brightly lit so I could appreciate the splendour of it quite clearly, I saw a rather modestly sized table laid for three. The only thing modest about that table was the size for the rest was stunning, the China, the crystal glasses, the tablecloth, the candles, the chairs, nothing offered my eyes a moment of rest.

Well, maybe the good-natured figure of the Prince himself. He was dressed much the same as before, his cravat was maybe a bit more ornate and his hair had been done afresh, but there was a comfortable aura around him. Any stateliness or pride had fallen away from him, and he approached me like any other man these days: with open admiration. Why is it, Fitzwilliam, that older men seem to like me so much? Do all gentlemen secretly like impertinence? I treated him with respect, but did not guard my tongue overmuch.'

Yes, what was it? It had to be whatever had caused him to fall in love with her, though it took him quite a while to actually see her attractions. Like, a week? Most men fell for her instantly, but they hadn't been in Hertfordshire, and Elizabeth was not the country girl she used to be. He flattered himself that none of them would have recognised her qualities in the company she kept at that time, though maybe he had just been lucky.

'I'm sure it is, my love. Though I think you're beautiful as well, and not just in that dress.'

She nodded and continued, but not before she'd kissed him.

'Well, I can tell you I wasn't pleased with his admiration, I had not given him any encouragement. I decided there and then to be as respectful and as formal as I could without being cold or offensive. Starting with a deep curtsey.

'Please, Mrs Darcy, can't you see I'm in a very informal mood? I know we've just met but I feel like I've known you for years. Won't you just treat me like a friend for this one evening?'

And then I understood what Nick Fowler must have felt like when Frederick was pushing him to be informal, it was incredibly difficult to do! This man was miles above me, how could I not address him with the respect that was his due?'

She did not actually expect a reply, so Darcy kissed her instead.

'I said, 'I'll try, Your Highness.' And that he would have to be satisfied with, and he seemed to be for he smiled very kindly. Mrs Fitzherbert wasn't jealous at all, it almost seemed as if she was trying to direct his attention towards me more than towards herself.

'Doesn't Mrs Darcy look like a princess in this dress?'

Now he really looked at me and almost gaped.

'Indeed she does. I cannot say I'm fond of this habit to dress in a style that no sensible person would still wear, but it becomes you very well indeed, Mrs Darcy. This is one of your former favourites, isn't it, Maria? You must be glad to see it in use once again. Now, enough talk of dresses, Mrs Darcy, I want to pick your mind on more interesting subjects, and maybe hear a little about how and where you lived before you made every paper in town. I've read them all, and they seem rather fond of you. Maybe that is why you give me this feeling we've know each other for a long time.'

I'd read in those papers that Prince George hardly ever let anyone get a word in edgewise, but not tonight. He showed a real interest in what I had to tell them, about growing up with four sisters in a small village and many other things. It was personal, not a future monarch trying to find out how his subjects lived but an intelligent person trying to get to know someone he liked. Dinner was pleasant, plenty of good food but rather more sensible than I expected. Only the constant supply of wine struck me as being rather decadent, though he accepted my drinking mine very well-watered, as he had promised when they asked me to stay for dinner. And dessert was incredible, he certainly has a sweet tooth. There was such a choice of cakes and tarts and sweets, beautiful fruit and cream, that I almost regretted having eaten anything else. Though I should have expected it after that lovely cake we had during the concert.

'You like sweet things, too, Mrs Darcy! We've caught you out, you do have a vice!'

'I confess, I do like confectionery, we eat pie ourselves almost every day, but nothing like this, not at all.'

After dinner I played the piano, creditably, even well, and my audience of two praised my skills, I think sincerely. That room had the best acoustics I'd ever heard, not even one of the halls we've been to could beat it. And the instruments were a marvel, not just another grand piano, but a harp, violins, several kinds of trumpets. The harpsichord was the same Eric used, I suppose they took it back through the throne room and all those other rooms.

After admiring the décor of the room we chatted some more, until suddenly I wondered what the time was. I asked Mrs Fitzherbert, and she admitted it was close to twelve already. I'm afraid she knew all this time, my love, and didn't say a thing. But I did enjoy myself and never thought of you sitting here, waiting. In agony, and not undeservedly so, for when I announced I had to leave immediately, in quite a bit of panic for I realised I would have to cross all those rooms again and trudge up those stairs to change back into my own dress, a deep silence fell.

'Would you consider staying the night, Mrs Darcy?'

Somehow Mrs Fitzherbert didn't sound as if she meant by myself in that room with a sturdy lock on the inside.

'What Maria means, Mrs Darcy, is, will you please spend the night with us? Both of us, in my private quarters? Our staff is very discrete, no-one will ever know.'

'We have done it before, it is very satisfying for everyone involved.'

Part of me was shocked, my love, but can you believe part of me was flattered as well? Of course I didn't even consider taking them up on their offer, I have no wish to do that with anyone else but you. But had I indulged in the wine I might have, we will never know.

I refused politely, admitted I felt flattered but that you were most likely waiting up for me. They didn't seem ashamed at all to propose a night of sin to an almost complete stranger, I suppose strange things are going on in that house, Fitzwilliam. Nor were they at all offended by my refusal, they seemed to have expected it, but hoped I'd agree anyway. I managed to not lower myself with excuses, nor show any sign of reproach or being scandalized.

'Do you want to change back to your own dress, Mrs Darcy? It will take about half an hour to have the carriage readied.'

I did not want to spend another half hour here, nor undress in a room that looked like it was designed to house a mistress. But I was wearing a small fortune, and wanted my own dress back.

'I'll ring for my phaeton and ponies, it's very quick, you can be home in half an hour. Never mind your dress, we'll have it sent over tomorrow. Maria, you have a thick coat fetched and take Mrs Darcy to the foyer, I'll take care of the phaeton. Don't worry, Mrs Darcy, we'll have you back with your husband in record time. Are you afraid he'll be angry? I suppose I'll have to make excuses for you in person, I want you to remember this evening with pleasure.'

'And I will, Your Highness,' I said, 'I had a magnificent time. Thank you for showing me the house, and for all those delightful dainties, and most of all for treating me like a sensible person.'

Then everything went really fast, the Prince disappeared and Mrs Fitzherbert spoke to a servant, then took me to the foyer through all those rooms, including the huge hall with the pillars and the miles of carpeting. By the time we got to the foyer, the same servant was waiting with a thick fur coat, and helped me in. And when that was done, seriously, hoofbeats could be heard outside. How can anyone ready a two-horse team that quickly?

I had to climb the phaeton, the driver's seat was so high, but it looked very fast indeed, and the Prince drove it himself. I had to sit right next to him but I didn't mind, I still liked him a lot. We rushed over, he knew the way perfectly, and when I uttered my surprise he said, 'I see it as my duty to know all my people.'

When I obviously didn't believe that he laughed and added, 'And of course my driver told me where to go. I do have an excellent memory.'

The little contraption was incredibly fast, of course the streets were deserted, which was for the best or I'd be all over the news papers on Monday and not in a good way. And you know the rest. Are you mad at me?'

She sounded like a twenty-one-year-old girl all of a sudden. But there was nothing to be mad about, how could she reproach herself with anything? Apparently the rest of the world held to other standards of propriety than he had always thought. Than she had always thought. Neither of them could help that, she had done exactly the right thing.

'You did nothing wrong, my love, so why would I be mad at you? How could I ever be mad at you? I'm just glad to have you back, even if you are a tiny bit intoxicated. For I suppose that is why you were suddenly afraid I'd be angry with you. I'm not even angry with Prince George, or his lady, they offered something they thought of value and accepted your refusal. We'll have the dress and the coat returned tomorrow, and on Friday you can change into anything you like at Pemberley, even breeches, and we'll have our horses saddled and ride into the sunset. I'm done with worrying what other people will think, even Mrs Reynolds.'

'Even Mrs Baker?'

That was the Elizabeth he knew and loved.

'Well, maybe not Mrs Baker, but she will be in town, and we will be four days away from her. She will never know. Fanny won't dare tell her.'

'Fanny won't care, my love. She just wants to see me happy.'

'As do I, my dearest Elizabeth.' He stroked the smooth soft skin of her breasts and flat stomach, and suddenly remembered a conversation they still needed to have. Well, despite the time of night there was no time but the present.

'Elizabeth, my love, are you serious in not wanting to get the protections Anne mentioned? In short, do you want a child yourself now Jane is having one? Are you sure?'

She did not freeze or stiffen, her warm shape in his arms only snuggled a bit closer to him as she said, 'I am sure, yes. I still don't want to be fat and red faced with stringy hair, but holding little William did something to me, he was so sweet and pretty despite my cousin being his father. I'm sure I could love a baby, which I wasn't before. And sharing it with Jane will be such a comfort. If I can get with child, Fitzwilliam, we have been married for more than six months and nothing happened, yet.'

That was the real reason she suddenly didn't mind having a baby anymore: she wanted to prove she could. It was the worst reason to have a child if that was the only one but she was not lying, holding little William had convinced her babies were actually very sweet and cute. She might be ready, no, they might be ready, for this would not be her child alone, it would be theirs. There was no doubt in his mind that she was able to have children, his father-in-law's assurances that theirs was a prolific family had stuck in his mind and Elizabeth's fears could not change that.

'All right, I'm behind you then. Your father told us your mother never had much trouble carrying or bearing the lot of you, let us trust to his wisdom and enjoy our time together until we are blessed. Then I will be there to support you, even if you do get fat and red faced and weepy. Fanny will never allow your hair to get stringy, my sweet.'

And so for a few moments they lay together, savouring the other's nearness. Until Elizabeth started to stroke him in rather exciting places and he reciprocated, their last day in London starting with some serious loving.

End of part 3


	127. Chapter 127

Chapter 137

As Frederick sat at the breakfast table with Anne, Georgiana and Eric, he still wondered why he was all ready to go to church when he could still be lying in a comfortable bed, warmed by the most wonderful and most beautiful man in the world. Why bother, since his soul could not be saved anyway? And he couldn't blame Anne for his own religious observance, after all, he had started to join the family service before she had even accepted his proposal.

And where were Darcy and Elizabeth? They were never late, something must have happened yesterday. He felt responsible but not guilty, one just didn't say no to the Heir Presumptive. Besides, he still couldn't believe Elizabeth falling for the Prince's charms, and if she hadn't yet returned Darcy would have been still awake and sitting in the bay window, waiting.

'I'm pretty sure there is nothing to worry about, Frederick,' Georgiana observed, 'she must have been very late and they know what time church starts. They'll be here. I just hope there will be time to tell us what happened.'

He really had to watch himself, what was happening to him that anyone could read his expressions?

Not just right now, yesterday Nick had pointed out quietly that he was simpering over Simon in his smart coat, he couldn't afford letting people know his true feelings. If he could no longer control his facial muscles his role as a leader of society was over.

'Don't scowl, Frederick, you'll frighten me. You're at home with your friends and your fiancée, you are allowed to show your feelings. In fact, since I am to be your beloved wife I insist on knowing what is going on in that intricate mind of yours.'

Anne was a true delight, and she was right, he was among true friends here.

'I'm sorry, my dear, I'm afraid I've never had the blessing of being able to show my true feelings, of just being myself. I'll get used to it. And to going out with Simon in public. Kick me if I simper over him, he decided to join the other staff to church, I suppose I may meet him in the aisle.'

They definitely had a different sense of humour, his college friends would have been diverted by such a wry remark, had he been able to admit to his forbidden love to them. This little group of soon-to-be relatives looked at him with feeling. Though Anne was in a similar situation, and she didn't seem to feel sorry for herself at all.

'At least you and I get to walk down the aisle at all, Frederick, Simon and Nick never will.'

'Do you actually want to walk down the aisle? I don't suppose we have to if we're to be married in a small, private ceremony.'

'You're right, I'd rather meet Nick there today. I'll throw him one look of love, and hope he'll dare to reciprocate.'

She was not serious, she would never risk their involvement getting out. And then the door to the breakfast room opened, admitting the missing master of the house and his lovely lady.

'Elizabeth, you came back!'

Not very subtle, Georgiana. Of course she was just seventeen, and her sister didn't seem insulted by her exclamation. Elizabeth merely laughed mysteriously.

'You have no idea how close a call I had, dear Georgiana.'

'You're not serious!'

'I most certainly am.'

'I cannot believe Mrs Fitzherbert would allow her man to seduce a much younger woman in her presence!'

Frederick could not either, she must be making fun of them.

'That she did not. Instead she was the instigator. Invited me to spend the night with both of them. Intimately.'

She was deadly serious. Well, it was starting to become a habit, being stunned into utter silence. Darcy! Most likely he was ready to rush over and challenge the Prince of Wales for this depravity.

But no, Darcy didn't seem at all angry but rather incredibly happy.

All the others' thoughts had apparently taken the same direction and he looked at all of them in turn, seriously, then observed mildly, 'I'm merely very glad they accepted her polite refusal. I'm not Don Quixote, charging at windmills! I know when I'm outclassed and I hope moving four days' travel to the north will cause them to forget all about her.'

'But three people, really? Is that even possible?'

Poor Eric might be the true innocent among them, though why he should be shocked at the thought of three people together and not by two men was something Frederick had trouble understanding.

'You've read Pierre's exploits, haven't you?'

Well, at least Elizabeth wasn't shocked, whatever a guy named Pierre had to do with it. Nor did Georgiana seem to be.

'We read all of it. I suppose Eric thought that was the writer's fantasy, not something people really did.'

'Do you mean all of that is real? People actually do that? And also in a maze, and the temple in the garden? And in a stables?'

Judging from his reaction, Darcy had done at least one of those. Probably the last, they had spent a mere two weeks at their estate so far, in fall, and though Frederick supposed Darcy had a temple somewhere at Pemberley, even if it was most likely inherited from his father, he doubted Pemberley had a maze, they cost a fortune to keep up and were way too unsophisticated for a man like Darcy, whose grounds were reputed to be nature at its best.

Elizabeth did not show self-consciousness, but she did reply.

'I suppose the story has been made up, Eric, but I for one am no longer surprised by the things people apparently do in private.'

All right, now Frederick felt a little left out. He supposed they were talking of the book Elizabeth had gifted Georgiana with on her birthday. Something must be rather funny for Georgiana started laughing, and then she addressed Frederick himself!

'I'll lend it to you, Frederick, don't worry, we will not leave you wondering what we are talking about. I suppose it's not entirely useless for you, either, people will think you're married, at the very least you need to know what you're supposed to be doing with Anne.'

She could really read him like a book! Blast, he was not used to people being able to do that. And besides, he might not ever have been with a woman, he was twice her age and a former member of a rowdy college clique: he could tell her a few things!

'I appreciate the offer, dear Georgiana, and I will certainly accept it and enjoy reading your book. But I assure you, while I have indeed not engaged in those acts, I've certainly seen my share of them, remember, I used to throw those parties for my friends.'

Why did he have to say that? Why did he behave like a boy towards Georgiana, trying to prove himself a man of the world? They knew he was not an innocent, any allusion to his college clique could only damage him in Darcy's and Elizabeth's eyes.

But it did have the desired effect, Georgiana was finally shocked, her large blue eyes really looked at him, plain, boring Mr Manners, with a mixture of distaste and fascination and she blurted out, 'You mean they didn't do that in private? You actually saw what they were up to?'

Instantly checking the expressions of the others to see whether he'd answer that question or evade it, and finding mostly curiosity and no outright disgust, he elaborated airily.

'Grenfell liked to flaunt his prowess, yes, and not with a single lady of sin either, he preferred to be well attended. And the others did seek out a private space, but they sometimes needed me there, or I preferred to keep an eye on them when they'd had too much spirits and I didn't trust the girl in question. Some of them like to gather some extra income from a customer's person or property, you know, silverware, watches, jewellery. The guys didn't mind my occasional presence, we were very intimate, you see.'

What a subject for breakfast on a Sunday, just before church, but it was clear that though his companions disapproved of hiring low women for amusement, they did want to know what was going on in the world around them.

'Very enlightening, dear Frederick,' Anne said with what he was almost certain to be irony, 'I'd like to hear more some day soon. After I've borrowed that book as well, I'm very curious. But now I want to hear what Carlton House was like, I've read so many speculations about its grandeur, was it really like that?'

And Elizabeth was pleased to describe every room she had visited, the gist of her conversation with Prince George and his lady, how she'd played a magnificent piano in a room with the best acoustics she'd ever heard, and how the older couple had proposed they'd all spend the night together in the Prince's very own bedroom. Too bad Elizabeth hadn't, for if she had, would she have had a story to tell! Of course he understood her refusal, he wouldn't want to be with anyone else but Simon now he'd found him.

When Elizabeth's tale was finished it was time to go to church, but Frederick was certain very few of them would be totally concentrated on that day's sermon. Darcy would thank his Lord for letting his beloved return to him unharmed, Elizabeth would pray to be forgotten by the Prince of Wales, Georgiana and Eric would consider playing for the him again in that magnificent round room Elizabeth had told them about. And whatever would Anne be thinking of? She was so beautiful and her conversation was starting to become as informed and as entertaining as Elizabeth's. Maybe she was sorry to have agreed to their engagement so quickly, when here was an opportunity to meet a lot of very highly ranked single men.

But no, Anne wasn't like that. She wanted respect, and some excitement, but not at all like the amusements Mrs Fitzherbert's ladies-in-waiting enjoyed, as described by Elizabeth not half an hour earlier. Partying from dusk until dawn, in a large group of like-minded people of widely different ages but all from the uppermost layer of society. No music or dancing, few servants, no cards or other games. Just talking, drinking potent spirits, sometimes even smoking opium, and all the inevitable baser amusements intoxication and a feeling of privacy were wont to result in. Despite having provided very similar entertainment for his former clique, Frederick disapproved. Not in principle, but in execution, for the newspaper reports on Prince George proved that the few servants attending these occasions talked. Of course they did, even the most privileged servants would try to make a few bob extra if one didn't take proper care of them. Things would come out, time and time again.

Elizabeth had even mentioned the Prince being very alert to this possibility. And wanton fornication, it was just so...debasing, especially for the young ladies involved. Frederick infinitely preferred professionals. Though he realised what Elizabeth and Anne, and even Georgiana, would say if he mentioned this in their presence, he could not help it: whilst he had lost very little respect for his college friends due to their eagerness for baser entertainments, he valued his new lady friends ever so much more for being faithful to their own partners. If they would spread their favours he'd respect them less, which was a heinous thing to think when he was committing an even worse sin himself.

But wouldn't he be disappointed in Darcy and Eric as well, if they were to be unfaithful? And even Nick, despite his past, had gained Frederick's approval mostly through his dedication to Anne. Maybe he wasn't as much of a hypocrite as he thought. Still, only a lady involved such debauchery could pay the ultimate price, to bear a child out of wedlock, or to a man she was not wedded to.

Still in his church bench, though a luxurious one in the Darcy's private pew, he found himself glad after all that Elizabeth had not fallen for the Prince's charms. And he also hoped the older couple would forget about her, and about Eric's music, sooner rather than later, so none of their own party would be tempted to join those goings-on at Carlton House or some other town house or estate where the Prince's friends or confidants lived.

Driving through the countryside with their party divided between their own carriage and Manners', Darcy discovered Saturday's events were very easily forgotten. Though not as intimate as travelling by themselves, sharing a carriage was rather entertaining as well. They mostly had Georgie and Fielding riding with them, but at the end of the first day of travel Anne had asked to join them, and of course Nick Fowler came with her, the other couple enjoying a few hours with Simon and Manners.

The only personal staff they had left among them were the two ladies' maids, and Fanny of course chose to sit with her husband, Dora preferring to squeeze in beside them over riding with Manners' driver on a much larger box seat. Darcy wasn't surprised, he could not approve of such a young girl sitting unchaperoned with a man like Bates, it just didn't feel right. Of course he knew Dora was not a lady, but she was a kind and well mannered and she deserved to be protected from the sort of man Bates was reputed to be. Neither Simon nor Mrs Annesley had been able to recommend his behaviour when asked for their opinion, and Darcy didn't need to ask anyone's opinion to know the girl shouldn't travel with Hugo either. The Pemberley stablemaster was leaving the next day with a team of hired horses to return Darcy's ornate carriage to Pemberley, where it would most likely be stored in one of the large barns. It was taking up too much space in town, the slow team had their own carriage, which was much more suitable for a busy town with narrow streets. Daisy and Darcy's black would accompany Hugo, but Darcy did not want to rely on whatever help Hugo had hired for the trip to keep Dora safe. Two men and one shy maiden, that was even worse than Dora sitting on the box with Bates. Fanny and Bob would have a whole week to themselves once at Pemberley, as long as they were travelling they would make Dora feel welcome by day and enjoy their time together at night.

During the course of their four-day journey, it was as if Nick Fowler was starting to change. By the time they neared Pemberley it happened that Anne and her guard were sitting opposite Elizabeth and himself, trying very hard not to touch each other and succeeding admirably.

Fowler's usual servility seemed much diminished, he was describing a scene from his youth in London, proving himself a talented storyteller. Darcy had no trouble imagining a serious boy of about fourteen learning how to defend himself and his younger siblings from local bullies. He did wonder why Fowler's parents never intervened when their son started to sneak out at night, to join his older friends from next door in their excursions to add to their family's meagre income. They probably never knew what their son was doing.

'When I realised they were breaking into homes it was too late to back down, they had told me too much to just let me go back to being the neighbours' kid. Fortunately they let me stand watch, of course it would have gotten me hanged if I'd been caught, but they were always careful, staking out a shop until the owners left, or breaking into a rich home when the people had fled the city in the heat of summer. I think even they eventually ran afoul of a rivalling gang or the watch, for one day they were gone from the house, fled or caught I still don't know. But I decided there and then to end my career in crime and find myself a proper job with the skills they'd taught me. Even at that age I realised I could protect things from the likes of me as well as risk my neck stealing them.'

Elizabeth loved it. She always loved hearing people's stories, and Fowler was from an almost opposite walk of life, being a city boy from very humble origins. He was a charmer, though, and totally devoted to Anne.

'Is it my imagination, Nick, or do you talk differently?'

His beloved was perceptive, more than anyone else. Nick's thick London accent was indeed lessening. She even managed to keep from sounding insulting, which was a miracle since the burly guard seemed almost proud of his background.

And indeed, instead of being insulted the fellow beamed at Elizabeth and said, 'Thank you for noticing, Mrs Darcy! Anne and the others have been working on my accent, I'm glad our hard work is paying off. I've been living among a different class for years now, I know what it's supposed to sound like. But it's da...pretty difficult to keep up. Not just the accent, but avoiding certain words and expressions and finding different ways to say things.'

Darcy couldn't help laughing at Nick's near blunder, but even as a common servant he would have had to adapt at Pemberley, Mrs Reynolds would never tolerate such language in her household.

'It'll become easier at Pemberley, Fowler. No-one will have a London accent, and you'll rarely hear those expressions you are trying to avoid using.'

His courage had also risen, before their trip being addressed by Darcy would have silenced the fellow instantly, would almost have caused him to hide behind Anne's slender shape. But not anymore. An overacted difficult look was replaced by a genuine smile, transforming the burly guard's plain face to something approaching attractive. Even to Darcy, who still considered him decidedly beneath Anne, and not just because of his birth.

'I never considered that. I'm glad you told me, Mr Darcy, or I'd have started off at the wrong foot entirely. I'm Mr Manners' servant, of course, so they cannot hurt me, but being warned is better than trying to make up for a bad start.'

Now Darcy felt himself deadly serious as he answered, a bit too much so, maybe, he knew his staff and he knew Fowler could defend himself. He'd recently heard every detail of his education after all, Fowler was not in any danger, if anyone the others would have to watch out.

'You may have heard stories of bullying among my staff, Fowler, and I know you've been the victim of worse, but please do not think I tolerate anything of the kind. As soon as I found out I took measures, and the staff at Pemberley has always been above suspicion.'

Well, except Bruce, but he seemed suitably chastened and besides, Fowler could teach the young pup a thing or two about fighting.

'If anyone bothers you, do not hesitate to speak to me in person. No-one should live in fear of another human being.'

Darcy hadn't liked fearing the Prince of Wales' power, still didn't like that man's interest in Elizabeth, for the first time in his life he understood what it was like to be delivered to someone with more power and he didn't like it, not at all. No-one should feel like that, not even the despicable Will Collins. Elizabeth had told him some of her cousin's past as she'd heard it from Mrs Collins, and it had caused his hair to rise. Finding a parish with suitably traditional tenants to stomach Collins' sermons was on his list of things to do on a rainy day while in the country.

'Thank you, Mr Darcy, I will. Though I have heard nothing but good about your staff at Pemberley, I am certain nothing like what happened to me or to Bob could ever take place there.'

Of course he knew about Bob as well, servants talked to each other about their own lives, and Fowler had easy manners, was easy to talk to. He had spent hours in their servants' quarters and was rather intimate with Simon. Manners didn't even consider him a servant but a friend. Well, that was all for Anne's benefit, for Manners wasn't generally sentimental with servants. Bates certainly didn't have any privileges, and still he didn't seem discontented. And Fowler did learn quickly, his general appearance was already much more gentleman-like, and not just because he was wearing a fine coat instead of a livery. He also knew not to dominate the conversation and merely listened attentively as Anne and Elizabeth talked of Mr and Mrs Collins and their cute baby. Apparently he'd given his host in Kent some practical advice on how to deal with unfavourable circumstances at the work place, and Darcy suspected Fowler was right in his view on Elizabeth's cousin's situation. Well, if Mr Collins managed to find a way to make working for aunt Catherine bearable so much the better.

They were already on his own lands, and Darcy felt a twinge of excitement rising up inside him: finally they would be free from reporters and demands on their time! The explorers' rooms and their communal space had been readied to his precise instructions, the furnishings and décor had been left undone so Anne and Georgie, and Elizabeth, could enjoy themselves with the first mission together: the exploration of the attics. And once those rooms were in use he and his beloved would have their own part of the house to themselves, like those heavenly two weeks of honeymoon. No public appearances, no social calls, no entertainment until their relatives and friends arrived in April. Of course they would have meals together and spend some days and some evenings in each other's company, but hopefully the others would spend at least one day out of two in their headquarters on the second floor.

'These are your grounds already, aren't they, Darcy?' Anne asked. 'That church looks familiar. I always adored the little bell tower on top.'

Watching Fowler as Anne pointed out the true extent of Darcy's grounds, he was surprised to find the guard not unduly impressed. That was remarkable, for even Darcy himself was impressed by the acreage he might call his own. Though he sometimes felt the responsibility for so many farms and villages and inhabitants as a burden, they all contributed to his income, and he saw it as his duty to make certain everyone on his land had the ability to live, if not well, then at least adequately.

Of course there were some who owned their own farms, Peter's father-in-law the most important one of those, but Darcy generally had a really good understanding with them: Darcy used their services wherever possible, and in return they respected his influence on their friends and neighbours. All in all Darcy dared state his tenants were well cared for, with few really poor families depending on charity. Everyone went to church regularly, and he attended the yearly harvest activities in each village. Having Elizabeth with him would make this year's effort so much more gratifying. Last year he had been suffering from a broken heart, and he had leaned on Georgie's rare presence to keep his tenants from noticing. This year he would bring his lovely wife, who would show an interest in prize cows, pigs and poultry, be stunned over giant pumpkins, potatoes, carrots and leeks, and who actually knew about embroidery, crocheting and other crafts, so her praise would be ever so much more valuable to the goodmen and wives of his various villages.

'Yes, that is one of mine, if you like the church you should see the sawmill and pond, so picturesque you'll think you've landed in a happy, innocent girl's dreams. We can visit if you want, but it's about half an hour's drive from Pemberley.'

'You own all the land from here to your estate and that is half an hour's drive, yet?'

Of course, Fowler didn't know how far Pemberley still was. Now he was impressed all right.

'Yes, I own most of it, some farmers own their own steadings but not many. And from Pemberley it's another ten minutes to the northern border of my grounds.'

The city-born guard could not picture so much property, that much was clear. For a few moments his former humility seemed at the verge of returning, but then Anne unobtrusively took his hand and she said gently, 'I'm heir to a similar acreage and I suspect Frederick has about the same. It's not that uncommon.'

Of course it was a rare privilege to own such extensive lands, but somehow her touch restored Fowler's self-confidence, and he merely nodded politely and looked out the window as if to trying to conceive of the value of what he saw there. A single man possessing so much acreage, when this city-bred man's parents and siblings most likely didn't even own their own house.

Darcy was wrong to suppose that Nick was not unduly impressed by his new host's property and obvious wealth. Anne's support had merely enabled him to hide his awe better than he had managed at first. Nick was indeed only now starting to realise the true difference between a wealthy trader like Mr Blackwood and the people in whose company he now found himself, and rather intimately. Of course he had known that Mr Darcy and Mr Manners were much more esteemed than his former employer, but he had not truly realised the extent of their riches and their influence. He now understood Mr Blackwood's respect towards Mr Manners, and something more like deference towards Mr Darcy, though that was mostly due to the latter's reticence. Mr Manners did not have a lower standing than Mr Darcy, but his easy familiarity towards people of all walks of life meant that no-one really felt the need to show him much obeisance. And, he realised, that was how Mr Manners wanted it. He'd have to try even harder to be familiar with his new employer, whereas Mr Darcy would actually appreciate being treated with respect. He would never forget Nick's humble beginnings, though he had clearly voiced his appreciation of Nick's efforts to adapt a manner of speaking more fitting to his current company.

Though his interest in the view originated in a studied avoidance of a difficult situation, Anne had after all warned Nick against appearing servile towards Mr Darcy, there was plenty to feast his eyes on outside the fast-moving carriage. The landscape was supremely beautiful, the road flanked by venerable old trees with either green meadows or ploughed fields on both sides. Small patches of wood could be seen in the distance, and hedges of blooming shrubs and small trees separated the fields from each other and from the farmhouses. The occasional villages looked prosperous, the houses well-kept and very neat. Roofs were generally thatched, but some were tiled or slated. Livestock, mostly cows but also a few scattered sheep and horses, were sleek and placid, Nick knew nothing about any kind of animals, but he could see these were in perfect health and fed exactly right. Mr Darcy's tenants were obviously doing quite well, there was no sign of poverty wherever Nick looked, though some of the houses were small, and all the people he saw, in the fields, in their garden plots or around the buildings, were hard at work.

They were all silent for some time, except when one of the others pointed out something remarkable. Anne was reminiscing, often discovering places she had frequented as a child, a shaded walk beside the road, several large horse chestnuts in a tiny village they passed through, another church, an orchard which she was certain would bear the loveliest plums in fall. Of course the trees were merely in bloom now, the number of blossoms promising a good harvest. When they crossed a decently sized river she exclaimed, 'Look at that little gravel beach beside the river! We used to play in the stream there, didn't we? I can't believe it's still here, it hasn't changed a bit!'

'It hasn't, has it? I never thought much of it, but if there had been a flood even once that little beach would have washed out. I suppose it's been there for at least fifteen years.'

Mr Darcy's face was a study in emotions watching his cousin digging up memories. He seemed to have mostly conquered his guilt over having left Anne to fend for herself when she was stuck at Rosings under deplorable circumstances, of which Nick had gotten quite an impression a week ago, but her reminiscing did bring some of it back, mixed with pleasure over her acute memory and obvious enjoyment seeing Pemberley again.

'How long since you were here, Anne?' Mrs Darcy asked softly. She was not untouched by Anne's eager comments, either.

Anne took her time making an estimate, then looked at Darcy, 'I'd say at least a decade, do you agree, Darcy?'

With a pained look he replied, 'I suppose you are right, Anne. Aunt Catherine visited regularly, at least once a year, but she never brought you along. Nor did I ask for you to come. I'm still so sorry, Anne, I never wondered whether you might have wanted to.'

'Never mind, Darcy, I couldn't have come, four days of travel was too much, even one hour was. I couldn't face it. Besides, how often did Uncle Spencer drop by?'

'Not more than once or twice in all that time, I'm certain. Nor did Spencer. Fitzwilliam stayed with me for a few weeks each year at least, in the hunting season.'

'I suppose we were just not that close as a family then, Darcy. Mother dropped by regularly to keep an eye on you, I'm sure. She had such grand designs on you. I suppose you'll miss her terribly, maybe I can make up for her desertion just a tiny bit.'

Good, Anne's remark seemed to pull Mr Darcy out of his sad mood, he smiled from ear to ear, a funny sight since he was usually so serious, and spoke with feeling.

'Imagine being with a true family party, Anne. It has taken me that same decade to find someone to start my own family with, and now I have you and Georgie as well, and so many new relatives and friends. I often wondered why the house was so large, you know. And still when everyone is here come April there will be rooms to spare.'

And so Nick started to see more and more that Mr Darcy was just a man, despite his dignity and his reticence he needed other people and love as much as anyone. He loved his wife, he loved Anne, he treated Nick with absolute fairness despite not really agreeing with his seeing Anne, and Simon adored him.

They ascended a sizeable hill with beautiful woodland on both sides, no sign of habitation here. Used to a city of millions, Nick felt a bit strange, just a handful of people in the middle of the wild woods. No-one else seemed to mind being all alone, they were used to it. But then the carriage started to go back down hill and the most incredible sight lay before him: a lovely green valley with a stream feeding a larger stream right in the middle of it, and on the opposite bank, quite high up the next hill, a magnificent house. It was huge, and Nick knew it was further away than it seemed, so it had to be even larger than it looked from here. Just incredible!

Anne was also impressed, even though she grew up in a house this size and stayed at this very place regularly in her early years. But though Rosings was grand enough, Pemberley was just unbelievable, not merely the house, it was also how it was situated right in the middle of a gentleman's dream of wilderness. A real wilderness would probably not be as beautiful a composition of lush meadows sprinkled with trees and shrubs, it was like Mr Collins' garden but on a huge scale. Imagine this place in full summer, with the trees in leaf and the meadows riddled with flowers! In comparison, Rosings was a mere square lump of stone squatting in an old-fashioned French formal garden.

Imagine him having an opinion on Rosings, Nick thought. A week ago he hadn't even known such places existed, and now he presumed to find Mr Darcy's abode much more impressive than Lady de Bourgh's, even before he had seen so much as a square inch of its interior.

'I take it you like the looks of my estate, Fowler?'

As kind as that sounded, Nick still had to suppress an inclination to bow or at least look away from his soon-to-be host, but he knew Mr Darcy didn't like his cousin being with a servile man, so he forced himself to meet the gentleman's eye.

'Very much so, Mr Darcy. Even a city boy can recognise the perfect blend of nature and your family's accomplishments.'

That was a point scored for Nick, Mr Darcy was obviously impressed with his observation, and Anne's look of approval sent a shiver of delight and anticipation right through Nick.

'Better keep an eye on that fellow, Anne, or he may turn into a poet,' Mrs Darcy observed in her usual pert manner. She was quite a few notches over any lady Nick had ever met before, excepting only Anne, and apparently Mrs Darcy did not come from a respectable family like Anne's or Mr Manners'. But she made Nick feel a little more at home in this company, and Mr Darcy's love for her made that gentleman seem a lot more human.

Anne was surprised to recognise Mrs Reynolds from the last time she visited. She was much older of course, weren't they all, and she looked tired and thin because of her illness last winter, but she was still unmistakeably the calm and competent housekeeper she'd always been.

'I hardly recognised you, Miss de Bourgh, you used to resemble one of your cousins most of all, sunburnt and with your hair blown about, and your hands and clothes covered in mud and the likes. But now you're every inch a lady, and engaged to the charming Mr Manners!'

Mrs Reynolds had never seen Frederick before in her life, but he was certainly charming now, and she'd probably read all about him in the papers, like everyone else seemed to have.

'Let's seek out all our old haunts, Anne,' Darcy offered, 'I can think of quite a few right off the top of my head.'

That would be very nice, if they found a way to include Nick. He and Simon were feeling more than a little uncertain, Simon had greeted some of his former colleagues and introduced Nick to them, but now he was clearly uncertain what to do. Anne didn't know either, she supposed it would be easiest for them if they went to the common-room, but she felt they would do better to separate themselves from the Pemberley staff straight away, to avoid falling under Mrs Reynolds' strict regime.

Georgiana had disappeared into the house right after their arrival, eager to explore the second floor where they would be staying, like the adolescent she still was, pulling along her husband who certainly wasn't. Anne wished she could follow, but she was an adult, and she couldn't leave Frederick and most of all Nick and Simon standing there.

'Why don't you let me handle the niceties and take Simon and Nick to our new quarters, Anne? Have them arrange our luggage to your satisfaction?'

She could do that, yes, though Simon didn't need her help. But then, Darcy and Elizabeth didn't need Frederick's help either, it was their staff, not his.

'Don't you want to go exploring? I thought all young people did.'

That did it. Why was Frederick always pretending everybody else was younger than himself?

'You're not that much older than I am, Frederick. If you want to be an explorer, you will have to come with us and actually do some of it. You don't need to talk to Darcy's staff, he has become pretty good at it. Come!'

Bossy Mr Manners melted and bowed, taking her hand and kissing it.

'I'm yours to command, my dear Anne.'

And he turned towards Mrs Reynolds and said, 'It was a pleasure to meet you, my lady, I am looking forward to actually talking with you. Now, I have my duties towards my fair fiancée.'

After he'd bowed and was walking off with Anne she could hear the elderly housekeeper sigh, 'Was that gentleman really the Mr Manners from the papers, Mr Darcy?'

Darcy sounded amused as he replied, 'It most certainly was, Mrs Reynolds.'

'He does look like his description in the papers, but I just could not believe he'd really come to Derbyshire. Such a well-bred man, he certainly lives up to his name with his perfect manners.'

Anne turned her head towards Frederick to hide a smile, and of course he noticed.

'What did she say? I hope she wasn't insulted with my leaving before we'd talked a little?'

Why would Mr Frederick Manners care what a housekeeper thought of him? It was rather endearing, and Anne felt obligated to tease him with his one weakness, his need to be universally liked, but it was hard with the image of his vulnerable moment in the London church garret still before her mind's eye.

'Have you ever been teased with your name, Frederick?'

'Of course, who hasn't? Only those without friends I suppose.'

He had no idea how right he was. No-one had ever teased Anne, mostly because she'd never had anyone in her life to tease her. A strong hand took hers and squeezed just the tiniest bit, undoubtedly to remind her she had friends now. Without acknowledging his hold on her hand, just like a real fiancée would, Frederick continued.

'Come to think of it, it was often those with little humour who used my name to make a point. Teachers mostly, the elderly kind, telling me to mind my manners. You can imagine how entertaining that was. Though I admit I was more than a handful. We all were. We only respected those who could force us to behave by being stronger or more powerful. The only one who ever understood was my wrestling tutor, he could floor me but he never did to prove anything. Because he was faster and stronger I actually listened to him. Of course there were no women involved in my education from my seventh birthday, in hindsight I guess a little more subtlety might have saved me from at least half the foolish things I did.'

Anne was thrilled to have Frederick tell her about his youth, but all too soon he stopped short, saying, 'But you asked for a reason. Something to do with Mrs Reynolds, I suppose.'

'She said you lived up to your name with your perfect manners.'

Instead of the 'I told you so' look Anne had expected, Frederick was quite obviously pleased. Another soul won, and if an elderly housekeeper didn't have the right to make threadbare comparisons, who did?

'Now if I'd had a Mrs Reynolds to raise me, things might have been different.'

And Anne hadn't a clue whether he meant that or was making fun of the old lady lacking sense of humour, but by now they had reached the top of the stairs, two flights of them, and were beyond Anne's knowledge of Pemberley. Time for some serious exploring, Anne had no idea what to expect.

'So no-one of the regular staff ever comes here?'

'That is what Mr Darcy told me, Nick. Apparently our new master wants to try out whether you and I can take care of two married couples abroad. We can, but for the sake of propriety we'd really need a lady's maid as well. Though I suppose Fanny will take care of Dora for the time being.'

'I'm afraid poor Dora will feel very bad about that. She has done so well, never saying anything she shouldn't, but she gets shut out all the time.'

Nick really felt that, but he obviously hadn't meant either Anne or Frederick to hear. When Frederick turned towards Nick to address his observation the latter almost cringed.

'I'm sorry, Mr Manners, I know it's not my place to criticise.'

Seeing her beloved behave like a browbeaten servant hurt Anne almost as much as it did Frederick. He had never given Nick any reason to fear him, he had been nothing but kind and respectful towards the man he regarded as a kind of fiancée, like Anne did Simon. But she couldn't blame Nick either, he had grown immensely the last few days under the constant attention of such superior company, but he was still at the mercy of others, and one couldn't just lay aside years of servitude as if it were a garment no longer needed.

As gentle as he would approach a skittish horse, Frederick now addressed Nick, hiding his disappointment as only an English gentleman could hide his feelings.

'I know we're not being fair to Dora, Nick. If I promise to make it up to her will you believe me?'

'I'm sorry, Frederick, I suppose I'm a bit overwhelmed by all this, I don't know what came over me. I felt very small all of a sudden. You've always been kindness itself to me and I react as if you're about to box my ears.'

'Fair is fair, I do remember clouting the very breath out of you, Nick.'

Good, he had his sense of humour back, that was the way to handle poor Nick.

But Nick didn't find it funny, he hung his head and looked altogether irresistible. Anne practically threw herself at him, and as his strong arms closed around her she could feel his body strung like a wire, and not with heat.

'Let's go exploring, I've been here only rarely myself,' Simon said, ignoring the whole situation. Frederick looked as if he was going to protest, he wanted to talk about what happened, he wanted to be liked, not feared, but Nick just wasn't up to it any more today. He needed a little time to adjust, and Simon knew. Showing the three of them, including Nick, that he was not always bossy and in control, Frederick did accede to Simon's suggestion. Simon in front, Frederick right on his heels, and Anne holding hands with Nick, they started with the hall to their left, trusting to Simon to show them the way.


	128. Chapter 128

Chapter 138

Mrs Reynolds, or rather Mrs Eliot, her temporary replacement, must have hired extra staff to clean the entire second floor, for whichever room Georgiana and Eric explored, they were all specklessly clean. Bare, certainly, the old fashioned oak-panelled walls looked dreary without the occasional picture or some other form of decoration, and the windows were like gaping holes without even the simplest of hangings. But there was potential here, Fitzwilliam had excellent taste in decorating but somehow it was all so modern. This floor practically breathed history, and Georgiana couldn't wait to hunt for fabrics and decorations as well as suitable furniture. Not from the same period as the rooms themselves, that would be depressing, the few chairs and tables remaining and those cabinets too heavy to move out were solid chunks of massive wood, making the gloom even more oppressive.

No, they'd find lighter chairs and tables, not so much in colour as in build. She didn't mind the dark wood, it had a nice old feel, but she wanted the furniture to be a lot more elegant. It didn't matter whether it was older or more recent than the rooms themselves, she knew what she liked and she'd choose that. Hopefully there would be some really flimsy fabrics for curtains, to make the whole a bit less solid. It would take a lot of work to make the rooms habitable, but it would be fun. Already she felt the strain of the last weeks slipping away, and judging by Eric's demeanour it wasn't much different for him. It was a perfect moment to take a little break from exploring, or rather, to explore something different. Eric seemed to have had the same idea for he took his brand-new wife in his arms, and they kissed passionately. There was no opportunity to take things further but they went as far as they could, counting on being disturbed sooner or later.

And of course they were, not by servants but by their party of friends, a welcome sight to Georgiana for now they could actually choose which rooms to use.

'It's just as I remembered, terribly gloomy. The panelling must have cost a fortune in oak and walnut, but it's gloomy nonetheless. Did you find anything remotely suitable?'

Simon was totally at home here and as familiar as he'd ever been whenever they were in private, but poor Fowler seemed very much impressed by Pemberley's magnificence.

'I think we did, quite a few, actually. They are large, and some have a door connecting them, like our apartment in town. And we won't have to strip a room for the piano, they're totally bare now.'

Of course Eric mainly cared about his piano. Their piano, for it had been as much Georgiana's present, and she planned to play it a lot.

They now continued their explorations together, and finally found a room large enough to serve as their headquarters, where they would plan their journey and teach and learn. Like all the other rooms on this floor it had a relatively low ceiling, and the naturally dark wood panelling reached from floor to ceiling, where these days it was more common to have panelling to waist height, painted in a neutral colour, with decorated wall paper above it.

The room was very clean and this time it wasn't completely bare, a huge rectangular table stood right in the middle of it, with ten matching chairs. It was perfect for poring over maps, however had it gotten there? It was solid and fit the room really well, but somehow Georgiana was convinced it was not contemporary with the room itself, it was much too elegant for that. And what would its original use have been? Then it struck her: Fitzwilliam had ordered it made for them! But he couldn't have, the time was too short. So he'd probably sent someone to the local craftspeople to find a table like this already made, and this was what that person came up with. It was magnificent, and just what they needed.

'Your brother has outdone himself, dear Georgiana. Just look at that magnificent table, if that isn't brand new I'm very much mistaken. How does he do it, arrange things on such short notice? I cannot wait to spend our evenings sitting at that table. And what about our bedrooms, shall we choose them close to this room? Simon and I would like to have adjoining rooms with one of those doors between them.'

Georgiana supposed no-one would think anything of that, but if Anne and Nick were to do that the cleaning maids might talk. Though Anne could leave the key on her own side.

'Let's take a look at what rooms are available on this side of the second floor. I'm certain we'll find the right ones.'

And they all did, Anne and Frederick choosing adjoining rooms, with their partners on the other side. Georgiana had to admit that Anne had made the right choice, Nick was turning out an excellent companion. Though they had seen little of either him and Anne during their four days of travel, when they did all get together for dinner in some quaint little inn it was obvious they had used the long hours of transportation well, for his accent was much reduced and he used hardly any coarse expressions at all anymore. Maybe he did not have the natural sensibility Eric had, Georgiana was convinced her beloved husband would have grown up a gentleman even in the backstreets of London, though that probably just proved how much she loved him, at least Nick was polite and kind, and she was certain he'd get over his servility if they all treated him fairly.

He and Simon had a very practical view on how to get the necessary furniture down from the attics in time for them to get settled before nightfall, and their little group of six was as close and as comfortable as it had been with five.

But then it was time to have lunch, and it was obvious Nick was not feeling comfortable at all with his role between servant and partner to a lady.

'Come, Nick, it's time you get to know the Pemberley staff, notably Mrs Reynolds. Though Mr Hugo is also quite a character, I'm afraid you won't recognise him once he's back, he's very much in charge here. Of course we're visiting staff, they have no say over us, I'm looking forward very much to making use of that privilege.'

Simon's easy way of speaking helped Nick immensely, and his face cleared altogether. Georgiana had heard what had happened to him in the Blackwood household, and she could imagine he'd feel much safer with Simon to introduce him to a lot of strangers.

'You're not lunching with us?' Anne asked, disappointed.

Now her man showed his true spirit, taking her in his arms gently, kissing her throat and face with so much love.

'I'm sorry, Anne, but that was never an option. We're staff, we're not supposed to mingle with the genteel folk. Mr Darcy is very kind to let us stay on this side of the house at all. But Simon and I will have each other, just like you and Frederick will be together. Don't worry, I'll be fine.'

And he would be, probably more so than he would be dining with the family. Georgiana would be very much surprised if a man like Nick had any table manners. Though he would have to learn them if they wanted Simon and him to be true gentlemen abroad. Oh well, that was what Fitzwilliam's huge present was for. They could dine up here sometimes, they could even have a few people over, like Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam, and maybe Mr Bennet, who according to Elizabeth knew a lot more than he let them believe.

It was so good to be back! Of course there were the usual pleasantries to be exchanged with those of the staff that were present to receive them, but that was as it should be, they were not on their way through this time, they were going to stay. Mrs Reynolds was looking much better, though the elderly Mrs Eliot was still present to perform most of the housekeeper's duties. Fortunately the weather was relatively fine, it would do Mrs Reynolds good, and it would enable them to start rambling and riding immediately.

Georgiana and Eric had disappeared right after their arrival, and the others had soon followed, but not before Frederick had charmed Mrs Reynolds, of course.

'You seem very pleased to have returned, Mrs Darcy, and yet you were so much admired in London.'

'You have no idea, Mrs Reynolds,' Fitzwilliam observed smugly, 'she even had the Prince of Wales at her feet.'

And he told the ladies about her visit to Carlton House, leaving Prince George's improper proposal out of the conversation of course. Elizabeth was glad to hear him proud of her instead of keeping a hurt silence about it. But now she wanted to see her new horse, and then maybe spend some time in their private rooms. Travelling with friends was entertaining, but they had had so little private time for months, she was really planning to catch up as much as possible.

'We didn't read anything about your visit in the papers, Mrs Darcy,' Mrs Eliot dared suggest.

Did that mean they doubted it had really happened? Imagining what an article would have said had a reporter seen her being returned by the Prince himself in his private phaeton, way past midnight, Elizabeth could not but smile in relief.

'I suppose a few hours' visit in the afternoon to a private occasion they couldn't attend doesn't rate an article, Mrs Eliot. Besides, we used Mr Manners' team and he is out and about all the time, maybe they didn't realise it was us going to Carlton House.'

After a short description of Carlton House and the Heir Presumptive himself and the fabulous sweets he served his guests they took their leave and went straight to the stables, it was of little use to wash before petting a horse after all.

Crossing the front lawn, her beloved took her arm in his and kissed her right behind her ear. A shiver ran through her, she knew what he wanted and she couldn't wait herself. But first she'd meet his magnificent present and maybe say hello to Peter and the rest of the stable-boys.

'Did you mind my mentioning your visit to the Prince and his liking you so much?'

'Actually, I'm glad you feel it exactly for what it was: a fun visit to a beautiful house and kind people. Nothing more and nothing less. I'm glad you're not jealous.'

'I was, very much so, when you didn't return.'

'Not towards me, you weren't, my love. Nor to the Prince. When I came back you were merely very happy.'

'I had to use Bob's advice when he talked to you like that, I imagined riding my favourite horse, that always seems to make me very mellow.'

'It was something to be proud of anyway, my love. You've shown admirable restraint, even to Wickham, and he is not a powerful man, you need not fear angering him.'

'I still hate him, though. I hope we'll never have to see him again. Though I'm not in any way jealous of him, not anymore. I know you feel nothing for him but kind concern.'

Was this the right moment? When Fitzwilliam had just confirmed he truly hated Wickham? Elizabeth was looking forward to solving the mystery of Wickham's parentage, and though she feared Fitzwilliam's reaction it was not because she was afraid of him, she was merely afraid to make him unhappy. But Frederick was right, she could not keep a secret from her beloved, he'd notice she was keeping things to herself and imagine the worst.

'Fitzwilliam? There is something about Wickham I have been meaning to talk to you about.'

His reactions was not hopeful. He stopped in his tracks and looked at her with concern and even a little apprehension.

'I could sense you'd had some kind of row, but then you were nice to him. Not too nice, exactly right for your relationship as brother and sister.'

'There is no love lost between Wickham and myself, he cannot seem to stop trying to impose on my feelings. Well, actually he used to, I've settled him for good. But that is not the point, it's something that goes way back, before we even met, before I was even born.'

'You mean to say you weren't but that I had been? It happened in the years that we were good friends, Wickham and I?'

'You're not that much older than I am. No, this happened when you were a little boy.'

Nothing for it but to blurt it out, there was no way to bring this diplomatically.

'Your uncle Spencer and I agree that Wickham may be your illegitimate half-brother. I'd like to try to find out whether there was anything more than a steady friendship between your father and his mother.'

Fitzwilliam's expression of pain, shock and disgust exceeded anything she had expected. If she had known he'd take it so badly she would probably have refrained from mentioning it. She did not want to hurt her idol, her beloved! She did not want to risk losing his respect!

After a long, long, painful silence he took her in his arms and rested his head on hers in defeat.

'Damned useless jackass!'

What had she done? Her calm, collected beloved reduced to venting his feelings in terms they had been trying to wean Nick away from?

'All my life he has been dodging my steps, envying everything I shared with him and would have shared with him, trying to steal my father away from me, and my sister and even my wife! And still I have had to bear him in my life, exert myself to further his career when I'd just as soon see him drop dead or at least disappear from my notice forever. And now you tell me he may be my half-brother? And uncle Spencer supports your belief? Does he know? Does Wickham know?'

So it was possible to feel a twinge of fear for the person one loved more than oneself. Fitzwilliam was no longer beat, but intensely angry and he was frightening. Towering over her he held her so firmly it almost hurt, and his usually cold and detached anger seemed to burn instead, making it all the more real. But Elizabeth was not going to let her own foolishness ruin their bond, and she forced herself to look at him and reply calmly and with a steady voice.

'I don't think he does, no. And your uncle told me your mother had her suspicions.'

'No, indeed, he doesn't know, or he would have tried to use his knowledge against me long before now.'

The anger was gone, just like that, and his head was back against hers, his grip loosened.

'My poor mother. And I never had a clue, I worshipped my father.'

He took her face in both his large hands, but very gently, very tenderly. Then he kissed her softly on her lips.

'I'm sorry, my love, I frightened you, didn't I? Hurt you even? I love you more than anyone, I shouldn't let the very mention of George Wickham make me fly in a rage like that. And taking it out on you is downright despicable. I asked you to tell me everything you had on your mind, and that is what you did. I should be grateful to you for respecting my wishes. Please forgive me.'

And Elizabeth was glad he felt that way, she had been frightened for a few seconds, she loved him so much that to see him beside himself was absolutely terrifying. But to admit that would only make him feel even more guilty, so she gripped his neck instead and pulled his face down towards her to be able to kiss him and whisper in his ear, 'Don't be so hard on yourself, my love. You have every right to hate Wickham, and he need never know you two may be related by blood. And you may very well not be, apparently his father kept Mrs Wickham away from the master of the house.'

'No, my dearest Elizabeth, I'm afraid my uncle isn't like his big sister at all, he does not tell anything but the absolute truth. If he says my mother told him she knew my father cheated on her, and that she suspected he had sired his steward's wife's child, I believe him. My father may even have known, hiding it to protect his name and his estate. He always loved George more than he loved me, I knew that, and in time I started to resent George for it. Which young man wouldn't have?'

'And yet you were good friends for quite a long time?'

'We were, and I could understand why my father loved him, he was much more likeable than I ever was. I loved George, too. Until he started to show signs of his moral weakness and lack of restraint, and hid them from my father. Again, I'm sorry for my reaction, my love, you couldn't help it at all. I need a little time to come to terms with this, what to do with it.'

'I don't think your mother really knew, she merely suspected. It's still merely a suspicion and any proof has most likely been lost. You can easily forget about it, my love.'

'And I may decide to do that. So you're not angry with me? I couldn't stand to fall out with you over bloody Wickham!'

She looked up at him with surprise at his language, and he laughed and hugged her so tightly she nearly squealed. But she was glad to find him back to reason, and relieved to have told him. Frederick had been right, this was the right thing to do, if it hurt Fitzwilliam so much to know that the man he detested might have been his father's son as well as his favourite, they should not attempt to clear up the case. It wouldn't change anything, Fitzwilliam was the elder, and illegitimate sons did not inherit. Even Mr Richard Darcy hadn't wanted his legal heir to miss out, though he had not known how badly his terrible example had led the younger astray. If Wickham was indeed his son, Elizabeth still doubted, Fitzwilliam did overrate his uncle's surety. But at least he was back to a good humour.

'Come, let's find your new horse, and maybe listen to Peter gushing over it, and over his missus, and his son. Maybe we should take some time soon to explore the attics of the barns, where we keep the hay. Who knows when we'll make ourselves a baby, and I'd like him or her to grow up a sensible person, with an eye for those depending on him. Having been conceived in a haystack should give our child a suitable start in life, much better than a hardwood bed covered with satin and down.'

Shaking her head, Elizabeth took his offered hand and followed her beloved husband across the large stable yard, ending up in a brand-new set of paddocks behind the large stables that housed the carriages.

'What do you think? I was so impressed with Mr Miller's paddocks I wanted some myself, watching the thoroughbreds frisking and grooming I just knew they needed that as much as we need to touch and be with our own kind. My steward has been a very busy man, arranging the construction of these and preparing a little welcome surprise for Georgiana and the other explorers.'

'The paddocks are beautiful, just look at the horses being together like that. You had them built after we came back from Newcastle? And you got Georgiana a present? That is what changed my feelings towards you, my love, hearing from Mrs Reynolds how good a brother you were to her.'

'Imagine Mrs Reynolds saving my life without even realising it.'

He kissed her, not caring which stable hand might see them.

'It's not just for Georgiana, I had Nathan find a huge table with plenty of chairs for the lot of them to use to pore over maps and maybe dine together sometimes. You know they may yet succeed in civilising Fowler, but a gentleman is not solely a well-dressed man who uses the King's English.'

'You like him! Don't deny it, I can see it in your eyes! But you know, Mr Hurst doesn't have the best table-manners either.'

'And he is from a respectable family at least. I've known a lot of gentlemen who were less-than-true gentlemen in more ways than one. Ladies, too, I'm afraid. Maybe Fowler is an improvement on Mr Hurst, he makes a lot more sense, anyway, and so does Simon. As does Nathan, who managed to find this unique present within a week. I'm sure you'll get to see it before the day is done. But now I cannot wait to show you your new hunter, according to Mrs Norman he is the sweetest horse ever. Come!'

And he practically pulled her over to one of the paddocks, where three sturdy horses immediately gathered to greet them. A fourth held back, and Elizabeth was a bit overwhelmed to see that horse look so much like Colonel Drummond's Bucephalus that they might have been brothers. Except for their attitude, which Elizabeth guessed might be the reason Fitzwilliam even dared suggest she trust her life to this one, for there was no doubt in her mind that the stunning light bay horse too shy to push himself forward to get his share of the attention was her very own hunter.

He was elegant, much more so than any horse she'd ever seen besides said Bucephalus and their own thoroughbreds. He was slightly smaller than the three he shared a paddock with, and Elizabeth guessed he was not that much taller than Daisy. His legs were long and slim, his midnight black mane and tail long but not particularly full, his forehead significantly broader than the rest of his face, which was rather narrow from the front and slightly concave in profile, a marked difference from his feisty copy Bucephalus' nose. He was a beautiful horse, and though his muscular body promised speed and stamina, his dark eyes were soft and gentle.

'He looks just like Bucephalus, Fitzwilliam. Are you certain he is not too much to handle for me? Bucephalus tested even your riding skills.'

'He looks a lot like him, I admit, and he is as sensitive, but he lacks Bucephalus' strong will. A stallion wants to be master of everything, this gelding will mind you as easily as Daisy ever did. He may be slightly less stolid, but he is certainly not fearful. Mrs Norman suspects there is quite a bit of Arabian blood in this one, he is hardier than most of the other horses she has ridden and she is used to the best hunters. The concave nose and the way he carries his head and tail seem to support that theory. Arabians are often smaller and slimmer than English horses, and they are sensitive to people but not so much to their environment, they don't shy easily if they trust their rider. I suspect his breeder made a mistake putting too much Arabian blood in his line, causing this horse to stay smaller and slimmer than an English gentleman likes to see his hunters. But his loss is your gain, my love, if you manage to win his trust he will give you everything he has, and he has a lot. Let's go in and make our acquaintance, I haven't handled him either.'

They closed the gate behind them, the other horses soon accepting they were not the centre of attention today. Once they were back to minding their own business, the new horse approached the two of them and carefully examined their offered hands and even their clothes.

As soon as Elizabeth thought it was all right to touch him, she could feel his soft nose and smell the typical scent of a horse, a smell she had gotten used to quickly once she and Fitzwilliam had come to an agreement. He still smelled slightly of horse most of the time, though she supposed she did, too, despite regular washing. They generally rode together, after all, and Fitzwilliam was as fastidious as she was with changing riding breeches and coats after exercising their horses.

'Does he have a name?' she asked, suspecting he hadn't or she would have heard it by now. Though Fitzwilliam never named his horses, he had no problem calling them by name when an animal already had one.

'No, he didn't. And we have more than one bay in our stables, so I guess you'll need to name him. But I suppose you'd do that anyway. I'm starting to see the sense in that, if you want to create a bond with an animal you rely on to keep you safe, you should think of him as a kind of person, not a thing.'

'I'll think of something once I get to know him better. Or maybe he already has a name after all, you say Mrs Norman has worked with him a lot, she must call him something. I liked the name of that beautiful black stallion, Cavort. It seemed so fitting.'

By now, her new horse had lost most of his initial shyness and was nudging her to gain her attention. He was so beautiful, she could hardly believe she could ride such a dainty creature, he looked as if he could fly.

'I think he is the most beautiful horse I ever saw, my love,' she said to her beloved, 'thank you for such a princely gift. I cannot wait to ride him, though I suppose I will be afraid at first.'

'At least you can ride him astride, my love, I'm sure that will feel much safer. Do you want to try tomorrow? I've arranged for Mrs Norman to be there, she knows him best and she may be even better at instructing than Peter. She taught him, after all.'

'Didn't she say he was the sweetest horse she ever rode? I believe it, just look at his face, his big brown eyes, and doesn't he have tiny ears?'

Elizabeth was falling in love rapidly, and actually looked forward to the next day and those to follow. But now, she wanted half an hour with her beloved before it was time for lunch. As if he knew, the bay horse whuffed her hand one last time, then walked away to join the others. He didn't seem very shy anymore, and it was obvious this was the way to keep horses, even if it was still too early in the year to let them loose in the large meadows beyond the landscaped garden.

Planning to join his sister and the rest on the second floor, Darcy was pleasantly surprised to find himself led to their own bedroom on the first floor instead. Of course Elizabeth wanted to fresh up a little, and change into a more suitable dress, she had been wearing a travelling dress for four days in a row after having been dressed up to within an inch of her life for months on end. Though to him it looked fine, he knew Georgiana didn't like wearing a wrinkly dress either, somehow it bothered the ladies.

But when they entered their own bedroom she did not walk straight to the dressing table but rather to the bed, where she removed his coat quickly and efficiently, it was a hunting coat and not too tight, and subsequently pushed him to the bed. Then she sat on his face, road dust, wrinkly dress, horse smell and all, and lifted her skirts, still wearing her sturdy boots and stockings!

After a few moments of confusion at her unexpected behaviour, his excitement went into overdrive, and he availed himself of the opportunity offered with energy, even greed. It was as good as ever, and somehow those boots and her skirts draped all over him heightened the sensation.

He no longer felt angry towards Wickham, if the wretch really was his brother he was even more a victim of circumstance than Darcy. Instead of feeling jealousy, he merely felt love and admiration for his young wife, who had the London scene at her feet and didn't care a bit. Not even about catching the Prince of Wales' attention.

Then she turned around, still giving him access to her most intimate parts, hidden under her skirts but not in the sturdy drawers he supposed all men wore to be able to bear the chafing of their tight pantaloons. And when she expertly opened the front of those pantaloons and made use of the stretchy wool of his underwear to access his tackle he stopped thinking altogether. Well, except for a short moment to berate himself for again using coarse language, be it just in thoughts. It just wouldn't do for a gentleman to form such habits!

When her ministrations caused his excitement to grow too quickly and too high, he gently righted himself and disengaged, sending her a loving look to excuse himself for his lack of control. She did not speak, but acknowledged him by kissing him ardently, apparently not minding her own taste on his tongue.

Slowly they undressed each other, starting with the boots, after which he took his time savouring her taste and rising excitement. Soon their lust was almost on a par, moaning and breathing quickly, and after another shuddering release his beloved pushed him back to the bed and mounted him, riding his frantic movements with an expression of ardour. Then she laughed, not slowing down at all.

'Oh, I'm going to be very stiff for a few days when I pick up riding astride, I can feel that riding side-saddle uses different muscles. No, don't stop, it's good!'

But he didn't want her to be in pain before she even got on the horse. So he flipped her over easily, not even slowing down, then speeded up until she was panting and clutching his arms, totally overcome with heat.

When they finally lay back he was exhausted and his stomach hurt with the effort, but his mind was back to its usual calm and he felt wonderful. His beloved in his arms, smelling slightly of horse, his present well-received, what more could a man want?

'I suppose a real bed with down covers does have its charms, my love. Can't we just teach our children respect instead of trying to have those excellent traits born into them? Do you believe children can be influenced by their mother's mindset?'

'I cannot truthfully say I ever gave the matter any thought, dearest Elizabeth. Though I suppose children mostly resemble their parents, both from birth and from being raised by them. Look at George Wickham, raised by our steward, the most dependable man I ever knew, and yet his behaviour was as bad as his mother's and my father's combined. '

'But he was indulged by your father, and I suppose his mother. His poor father couldn't have made up for that, not even if Wickham had had a share of his father's righteousness. And your father wasn't all bad, I heard plenty of praise sung to him when we were visiting Lambton.'

'True, my love, he was a good man, with a rough edge, well hidden. Not at all like our brother-in-law, who was mostly bad news. And even he has turned out an excellent officer, I heard nothing but praise. Well, my love, as much as I'd like to forget all about him, I cannot. It feels wrong to not pursue this, so I guess we will have a mystery to occupy our time during our stay here: find proof of George's parentage, either written or directly from a witness. We'll find the truth, and if we don't, we'll forget all about him after all. Come, let's dress for lunch, we have enough of a reputation for lechery as it is.'

Good, he had impressed his little wife, being able to face the horrific Wickham as his potential half-brother. Hard work done, the fun could begin, searching the house for treasures and proof.

'Nathan will let us look through any old stuff left in the attic of their cottage, you know Wickham's family lived there until his father passed away. Though Mrs Brewer looks like a very neat woman, she may have thrown out all the old dusty stuff.'

After lunch, the others were keen to return to their new quarters to make them habitable as soon as possible, though Darcy had had rooms prepared for all of them to use until their explorer's haunt was ready. He guessed that might take awhile, since they all wanted to choose their beds and other furniture from the attic, which would then have to be brought down the stairs, cleaned and possibly repaired. It might take a week to have those rooms readied, and since it was supposed to be entertainment they'd better take the time to enjoy the process instead of rushing.

'These rooms are just beautiful! It's as if we've gone back in time about fifty years!'

Hopefully, Elizabeth wouldn't want to move upstairs as well, after all the trouble he'd taken to decorate the lower two floors to all the modern standards.

'Isn't it just?' Georgiana gushed, 'let's go upstairs right away, I can't wait to see the attics.'

'Shall I take Nick downstairs to get a set of lamps? I cannot imagine the attics here being much less dark than those in town.'

Simon was bright enough proposing to do a servant's work yet again, but Manners and Anne obviously objected. Couldn't they understand that Simon would feel embarrassed to see his former colleagues working while he stood by watching? When he knew exactly where the lamps were and whom to tell he'd taken them?

'If you please, Simon,' Elizabeth offered. 'We cannot do it ourselves, and to ring for someone would make people think, and not in a good way. In return I'll watch the lamps so you can explore with Georgiana. Did they treat you well during lunch, Nick?'

'I have no complaints, Mrs Darcy. I felt very welcome and the fare was excellent. You were all so right to tell me to watch my language, thank you so much, some do have an accent but a totally different one, and I didn't hear one inappropriate word, not even from the cook. You should have heard Mr Blackwood's cook when things got busy. Or maybe not. Anyway, the two elderly housekeepers are so dignified they're almost ladies themselves!'

Darcy couldn't suppress a laugh and observed, 'They are from very good families, Fowler, but without the independence to live as ladies. There are more of those than you'd think. Some choose to live with relatives, some marry well, and some find an occupation. A bit like my cousin Colonel Compton, who is a second son and has had to pursue a career in His Majesty's service. Although ladies are not allowed to become officers, they often serve as housekeepers or governesses in other families.'

Fowler nodded as if he understood, and his polite remark proved he did.

'Your kind explanation makes me glad that Miss Sophie and Miss Angelina had their own fortunes. They were not raised to support themselves. And now I also understand why Mr Blackwood said he'd find them husbands if they weren't married at the age twenty one. It was his way to protect them from want.'

Taking a quick look at Elizabeth, Darcy could see her expression serious, hopefully Fowler wouldn't think she disapproved of his participating in their conversation.

'I was one of those girls with marriage as my only career option, Nick. I didn't have a fortune, nor the formal education to be a governess, and no rich relatives to need a housekeeper. My father's estate was entailed on his closest male relative, his brother's son, because he only had five daughters, no son to inherit the property. Fortunately I never realised our predicament before both my eldest sister and I made an advantageous marriage.'

'But so many men admire you, Mrs Darcy, if you hadn't met Mr Darcy you could have picked any other gentleman!'

So Elizabeth had made another conquest, and one Darcy didn't regret in the least: if Fowler liked her, she would be safe wherever he was. He was faithful, brave and very observant. Darcy saw Elizabeth's expression soften, and considered thinking of her riding her new, as yet unnamed horse, astride, wearing her split skirts, her hair escaping the pins and streaming behind her...but no. He was not going there, Elizabeth was admired wherever she went, Fowler was no longer a philanderer but a man devoted to another woman, who was just as admirable as Elizabeth and who loved him. There was no reason to be jealous of his beloved being kind to another man. She was allowed to have friends.

Still, under the influence of Elizabeth's ravishing smile even the former womaniser melted, as she replied frankly, 'Thank you, Nick, such a genteel compliment! But I lived in the country, you know, I would never have met even one rich, educated gentleman if I hadn't married Fitzwilliam. Those gentlemen would have admired some other lady, almost certainly one of which the London ladies approved more.'

That provoked Manners, who bluntly observed, 'I have noticed that fashionable ladies rarely approve of other ladies who catch more attention of rich men than they do themselves. They didn't need an actual reason to dislike you, Elizabeth. In fact, I think they liked you better than they would have any other Mrs Darcy.

But Mrs Darcy is entirely right in stating she would never have gained her spot in the London scene without her husband, Nick, because she would not have been in a place where they could have met her.'

Nick bowed before this shocking news, though in a dignified way, not as if he were berated. More as if he was glad to understand the world he lived in just a little bit better. It would do him a world of good to know that most housekeepers had been spoiled gentlemen's daughters at one time, at least those of the older and most respected houses.

'I'm very confused, almost shocked to hear that a genteel lady could be so unfortunate as to have no fortune, nor any skills to make a living. I thought those above me always led safe, sheltered lives, and had no reason at all to worry. At least the Colonel always knew he would have to support himself, and had time and, from what he told me, his family's help to build a career of his own.'

So cousin Fitzwilliam had talked seriously with Fowler? That was quite unique, he didn't used to do that with servants.

'Generally, it is more accepted for a young lady to live off some relatives' charity than for a man, which is why second and third sons are always prepared for their future. But you are right, Nick, not all young ladies would do well as a dependant in a large household, it would be better for young ladies with few prospects to be prepared in advance for what the future might hold.'

That certainly struck a chord with Elizabeth, who observed, 'I guess it never really occurred to us that we might be in trouble, though my mother often lamented over the entail, mostly for herself but also for us. I suppose I expected to just get married, although not necessarily with a rich man. At the very least I expected my eldest sister to make an advantageous marriage and support the rest of us, though in hindsight even Jane's considerable attractions might have paled by a mother and four sisters depending on her. It would certainly have been better to have been prepared. My younger sisters couldn't have aspired to a position like Mrs Annesley's anyway, but Jane and I could have. Though you can imagine I would not have been the perfect candidate for a position as a dependant, Nick.'

Elizabeth had so little trouble relating to the fellow, it was as if to her he was one of them already, not a servant from a totally different walk of life. And yet, she generally had no trouble at all keeping a sensible distance to the staff, she was never overly familiar and they all respected her, even Simon. Why did Fowler seem to know exactly where he stood with Elizabeth, showing her every civility but answering her questions and even addressing her remarks freely, when he seemed ready to bow or bolt whenever Darcy himself said something?

'I most humbly admit I can, Mrs Darcy. It would have been a sad day indeed when a lady like you would have had to bow before others of less worth.'

Could it be that Fowler was more comfortable with ladies than with gentlemen, because he had known so many? Intimately?


	129. Chapter 129

Chapter 139

Looking at Mr Darcy, Nick was afraid he'd really gone too far this time. But Mrs Darcy had that effect on him, there was something about her that set him at ease, and her pert remarks just asked for a charming return. Mr Darcy had a reputation for being very jealous of his pretty young wife, and during their trip to Kent she had more or less confirmed that reputation to at least hold a grain of truth. And here Nick was flattering her right under Mr Darcy's handsome nose! His expression seemed merely thoughtful, but who knew why? Maybe he was planning ways to get rid of his cousin's irritating lover.

'You know I never realised Mrs Reynolds having been raised a lady either?'

Simon was so good at reading people's moods. And he wasn't afraid of breaking them.

'I used to consider her superior attitude a bit overdone, as well as her insistence on absolute order within the household. I did not like her having power over me, generally personal staff can get away with a almost anything as long as they please their master or mistress. But since Janine and Theo, and becoming a housekeeper myself, I have started to appreciate her ways more and more, and now I also understand them: she was raised to be the mistress of her own household, not run someone else's. Shall we fetch the lamps, Nick? We can be back by the time Mr and Mrs Darcy have admired the rooms we chose for our personal use.'

As Mr and Mrs Darcy nodded their approval of Simon's action, and Frederick once again showed his admiration of his lover openly, Nick was only too glad to escape their company for some time. It was so confusing to be familiar and respectful at the same time. How did Simon do it?

With satisfaction, Nick noted that Anne had already nudged her fiancée, who quickly wiped his bemusement off his face. It couldn't hurt here, among friends, but he shouldn't form the habit.

'She really likes you, Nick,' Simon observed once their companions had moved towards the large room with the magnificent table, and they were themselves descending the staircase.

'I remember feeling her disapprobation when she first came to town, right after their honeymoon. She thought I was too familiar with her husband, and she disapproved of Mr Darcy favouring me over the rest of the staff. I suppose she was right, Mr Darcy's favour did cost me because the other servants were jealous and decided to make my life miserable over it.'

'I can imagine how you must have felt, Simon, unable to look for help for fear of exposure. Do you really think Mrs Darcy likes me? Should I stay out of her way? She as good as confirmed the rumours that her husband is very jealous of her attentions.'

'I wouldn't worry if I were you, she is not attracted to you in that way, it's just her liveliness towards someone she is starting to consider a friend. It took me months to get to that stage from being considered a personal servant who lacked proper respect. You merely accompanied her on a two-day trip. It must be your famous skills with the ladies.'

That was a very dangerous road for people's minds to travel, Nick hoped Mr Darcy at least would not take it. To hope that they didn't know of his past as a philanderer was futile, Anne had told him Mrs Darcy had found out from the staff. He merely hoped they could see how much he loved Anne, that his roving eye was a thing of the past.

'I'm sure the Mrs Darcy you met was not the same who proposed to take me to Kent and let me ride inside the carriage with Anne and herself, Simon. I think she must have been a little more like the Miss de Bourgh I met at the Blackwoods', used to servants being invisible and unheard. You probably were the one to teach her we are people, too.'

'I suppose it was me, and Fanny did her share. Say, Nick, you do realise Dora is head over heels with you, don't you? You cannot keep pretending everything is just jolly, you'll have to address this sooner or later. Preferably sooner, since she will have a difficult time being left behind in the servants' quarters.'

'Are you certain? I know she likes me more than she should, but head over heels, really?'

'Maybe you should take your head out of those spun-sugar clouds where you have been keeping it the last weeks, and take a good look at her. Then tell me she isn't in love with you.'

'For how long did you say? More than a week?'

'Ever since Anne and Frederick announced their engagement. As if she suspected you of loving Miss de Bourgh and her engagement made it safe to pursue you.'

Damn.

'She knows I'm in love with Anne, but she thinks hopelessly. I may have inadvertently made it worse: at Rosings we both had a bit of a shock seeing Anne's room there, and I held her while she cried over those memories. I did remind her I don't date colleagues, but no-one knows better than I that you cannot force love, nor stop it altogether once it's there. What do you propose I do? Give her the lecture again, though it's too late?'

'The truth would be best, but I suppose Frederick won't approve of telling her about us.'

'She doesn't talk, you know, and it would make it possible to include her a little more. You know one of the menservants at Rosings loves her, a really nice chap called Frank.'

'That is four days away, Nick. Five or six by post. And she told me she wants to stay with her mistress, she wants to see the world, I guess. I'll mention it to Frederick, if you take care to discourage her.'

'I'll be on my guard, she'll be watching me. I've had girls in love with me before, Nick, and Dora is like a sister to me. I don't want her to feel hurt, but I never did anything to give her hope, I even acknowledged my love for Anne when she confronted me with it. Thank you for telling me, I do feel sorry for her, I might have made it much, much worse not knowing.'

By now they had reached the common-room, where Mrs Eliot and Mrs Reynolds presided over their staff, of course while doing something useful, like hemstitching napkins or polishing some silverware from around the house. So they were both ladies come on hard times, either after the passing of their husbands or because of an entail, or other circumstances beyond their influence. Well, if there was one thing Nick was good at it was making friends with ladies, of every description. These elderly dames would be no exception, except he'd keep them at a proper distance, of course. Too bad they weren't young and pretty, or he could have used them to show Dora he really did not date other staff.

Simon addressed them as charmingly as Nick would have done.

'Ladies, may we prevail upon you for half a dozen lamps to aid in the mistress' efforts to explore the attics?'

Mrs Reynolds got up and proved her lungs were on the mend by talking at the same time.

'Watch yourself, Maud my dear, Simon here has an atrocious reputation for being a charmer and a flatterer. And I have already heard that Nick is not much better.'

'But they're both so handsome, Maria,' Mrs Eliot protested, 'I just cannot believe they are merely playing with our feelings.'

That worthy lady could have been a professional actress, and Simon and Nick both bowed before her talent.

'I am but your humble servant, Mrs Eliot, without the slightest intention of breaking your heart.'

Simon was nearly as good, Nick felt totally at home here, the atmosphere was so much friendlier than he had expected of the great Mr Darcy's household. But then, Rosings had been even more homely behind the scenes, whereas Nick was certain the front of the house was very formal indeed.

'My friend Simon is right, we live but to serve, and maybe get the tiniest bit of love in return.'

'Oh, you young men! If I were but half my age... I was a ravishing beauty years ago, you know,' Mrs Eliot said, 'I had strings of beaus, and I married the best one, the one who truly loved me. He was a captain in the navy and left me a beautiful son and daughter. I just wish he could have seen them grow up, he would have been so proud. Still, we were very happy, and I hope both you boys will find someone special some day.'

'Thank you, Mrs Eliot,' Simon said, back to his normal voice and attitude. 'I greatly admire your son, he does so much good for the people who depend on him. His sermons are always worth listening to. I hope you will keep visiting when Mrs Reynolds is back to her usual health.'

'Oh I certainly will, young man, Maria and I have found each other's company very enjoyable, we would not let go of our friendship for anything. I assure you, you will see quite a lot of me yet. And you, Nick? While Simon is charming Maria out of her best lamps, you can tell me how you like it here. Little Dora tells me you used to serve as chaperone for two young ladies, which strikes me as extraordinary and at the same time very interesting. What did you do when they were in doubt which dress to choose, and when they were crossed in love?'

As Simon walked away with Mrs Reynolds, Nick wondered how much Dora had told this motherly lady, had she confessed her crush? Dora knew Nick was in love with her mistress, she had never been a talker, but if she fell for the elderly lady's charms it could bring great mischief to all of them. Maybe he should tell Anne about her maid as well as have Simon tell Mr Manners.

'They had a maid to help choose dresses, ma'am, but if they wanted to hear my opinion I offered it. I know quite a lot about dresses these days. And though they were very sensible girls, they did suffer from the effects of love once or twice. Of course they would not seek comfort with their maid, and their mother wasn't very suitable to confide in, so I'd listen to them and even hold them for a few moments. But never without witnesses, they are twins and very close, usually where there was one you could find the other, making it easier to prevent misunderstandings.'

The elderly housekeeper nodded and observed, 'Very proper, young man, you see, Dora also told me about your conquests, and I immediately wondered how far you would take them. So your young charges were safe, but what about the more impressionable members of the staff?'

It was so obvious that Dora had told her about Nick, at the very least his philandering and maybe even her hopes for him. How could she, they had not even been at Pemberley for a whole day! Nick was sadly disappointed, he'd had such high hopes for the little maid, thought she could have come to the continent with them, but if she was a talker after all...

'I admit I have been free with my favours in the past, Mrs Eliot, but my master's family has always been off limits, and I have never dated my colleagues, nor will I. I promise there is no danger of improprieties from me, no matter what you may have heard. In fact, I am trying very hard to mend my ways.'

'Excellent, that is what Maria and I wanted to know after hearing of your inclusion in the master's party. We were warned, you see, and Maria and I waylaid little Dora to gain more knowledge than we'd received so far, after which I offered to talk to you myself. It's easier for me, you see, since I raised my own boy, I know how to relate to young men. Mrs Reynolds never had any children of her own, and had some shocking experiences with a young man formerly of this household. Not a servant, but not a young master either.

I am relieved of my worries about you, but in the course of our conversation with Dora I couldn't help but notice she seemed to think your change in behaviour might be for her benefit. She said you'd told her you didn't date colleagues, but she didn't seem to take that very seriously. I can see you are very serious, though. Let me warn you, Fowler, that girl is going to break her heart over you, and you'd better make certain there will be someone to pick up the pieces. According to gossip Simon is not to be trusted with maids or I'd urge him to be ready to help her, little Dora has seen much change these last months, and she has no friends among the staff, yet. She knows him and trusts him, but we do not want her to attach herself to him instead.'

If this lady could spot Dora's crush within an hour of their arrival it had to be serious. He had warned the poor girl, but he had warned Anne, too, and she had fallen for him. He had known himself that falling in love with an heiress was to get hurt but he'd done it anyway. Love just didn't work that way. What a mess! And poor Dora, all alone in this huge house with people she didn't know, separated from the only people she did know.

But wait, Fanny and Bob were here, too. Nick tended to forget them, they were so inconspicuous. Yet they were kind, and married, and Fanny had a string of little sisters and brothers she'd miss horribly. And it was her first time out of town, away from her family. Maybe Fanny would need some support herself, and Dora had been through the same thing when she left Rosings with Anne.

'Thank you for your observations, Mrs Eliot. I think I know how to support Dora if she is indeed misleading herself over my affections. I did warn her, you know. I will talk to her as soon as my duties allow it, and I will seek out Fanny and ask her to keep an eye on Dora. Now I think it's back to work for me, there will be some heavy lifting to do.'

They would choose a perfect bed for him and Anne to share every night, every single night, for at least as long as they stayed at Pemberley.

'You obviously love your work, Fowler. I am certain we will have an excellent time getting to know each other.'

And just then Simon and Mrs Reynolds returned, had they been waiting for Mrs Eliot to finish her investigation into Nick's character? Probably. Never mind, it was laudable for those two ladies to care about the people who worked for them. No bullying in this servants' hall.

'Can you believe how much beautiful furniture and fabrics you had in your attics?'

Elizabeth so loved to snuggle against her beloved at night, and then talk a little about the day's happenings.

'We, my love. They're your attics as much as mine, even though my ancestors were kind enough to stock them. But no, I still cannot believe what we found. I knew there had to be some interesting pieces, but now I feel a bit stupid to have let Nathan spend about a week scouring the local crafters' shops for a huge table, when we had several up there gathering dust.'

'It's the way you always did things, my love, and besides, none of those was as handsome and as practical as the one you got them.'

'But I didn't choose it myself, it was the only one available. If it had been less beautiful I would have bought it anyway. But I'll learn, I've already learned to appreciate old things, and I'll learn to look for them before I buy something new. Though I still prefer my own improvements over Georgie's mishmash.'

'There is a time and a place for everything, and I think your sister's style of decorating is very appealing. But probably not for a drawing-room. Though I suspect Colonel Drummond may be living in precisely such at this very moment.'

'I wonder whether his estimable lady has taken your advice to visit the glassworks and if so, whether she bought everything there.'

'I wouldn't be surprised, they had so much of beauty, and she so loves her ornaments. Did you ever hear from the Colonel, about the Drummond hunter?'

'Actually, I expect a letter from him to be waiting for me here, I told him we'd be moving soon.'

'Good, I cannot wait to hear about Cavort. Such a beautiful horse, though not at all like my new gelding. Shouldn't they look more or less alike in build if they are all hunters? Bucephalus looks a lot more like mine.'

'Your horse and Bucephalus are both hunters, remember, and Cavort is in fact an army horse turned out too elegant, like Bernice, but I admit, more handsome. It will be a lot of work, though, to create a consistent type, and your horse proves that is not always easy: add too much Arabian to improve the head and the stamina, and the size falls off, as well as the sturdiness. Cavort is the kind of horse that pleases most gentlemen, should he breed true to his own type with hunter mares, his offspring will be coveted despite being in fact mongrels. But if some are throwbacks to his block-headed army horse ancestors, his value as a stud will soon diminish or vanish altogether. Then he'll just be a beautiful curiosity. Much depends on him, and on Bucephalus' ability to improve on the army horse mares without losing their stable characters. I know I'm not an expert, but I have high hopes for both stallions, and Mr Miller and Smith's interest proves they have, too.'

Enough about horses, Elizabeth wanted to hear what her beloved thought of that afternoon and evening's happenings.

'How do you think things worked out with Simon and Nick?'

'I suppose Simon is very pleased with things as they are now, but Fowler seems to still be struggling. It wouldn't surprise me if he felt much more at home in the common-room than in our midst. That is my honest observation, not some wish to be rid of him.'

He was very endearing when he expected to be misunderstood.

'Oh, I understand, and I agree, he would be happier with the other servants at this very moment. It's difficult to fit in with a wholly new set of people, especially when you've looked up to those as some kind of powerful, superior beings all your life. And then you find out they are just human beings who worship their wives and have all kinds of other weaknesses, and still you are supposed to treat them with deference. I'd feel like fleeing back to what I knew, especially if that is Mrs Reynold's domain. She rules, but with a gentle hand.'

He snuggled even closer, he didn't think adoring her was a weakness but most other men would, Elizabeth was sure.

'And yet I think Nick will adapt, and faster than either of us expects. I've heard you use more inappropriate language than him the last two days, though I admit you had good reason, and there is hardly any trace of his London accent left. Do you suppose he will adopt the local manners of speech? Some people do that effortlessly.'

'I suppose Fowler is one of those, but I don't think Anne will offer him the opportunity to be with the servants much, he will mostly hear civilised English spoken, and very likely a lot of French and German.'

'I thought they looked cute while choosing a large bed for Anne's room, but not too large so the maids wouldn't get suspicious.'

'There weren't going to have any of our staff over, were they? To be private?'

'Really? So they are going to let Simon and Nick stoke fires, sweep ashes from the hearths, carry firewood, change washing water, remove laundry and take care of the chamberpots? I don't think so.'

Even in the dark Elizabeth knew she'd scored points, Fitzwilliam had not realised how many truly humble jobs the maids took care of every day. He'd be impressed that Elizabeth did, and he'd love her even more for it, maybe enough to forgive her for discussing Wickham with Earl Compton behind his back.

'Point taken, my love, Manners and Anne will never suffer their lovers to be thus humiliated. Of course they'll not mind others doing it.'

'Neither do we, my dear. But better make sure to have the maids in just once a day at the same time each day.'

'Was there anything in the attics you'd like for yourself?'

'I didn't see much, I promised Simon I'd take care of the lamp, remember? Well, I did, even though I was curious. But I have everything I need right here. And we can go up there any time we like, can't we?'

'We will have to at least once, just you and me, to find evidence of Victoria Wickham and my father.'

'You're not planning on telling Georgiana?'

'Do you think I should? Never mind, of course you do. Which means telling Fielding.'

'And I confided in Frederick this one time, Fitzwilliam. He told me to tell you.'

'The master of intrigue told you to come clear with me?'

'He said intrigue would put a strain on our marriage. You're not angry I told him before I told you? Was planning not to tell you at all until I had evidence?'

The strong body beside her squeezed hers gently, and his voice was still calm.

'When I almost bit off your head when you did tell me? No, my love, without Frederick's support you would probably not have had the raw courage needed to tell me something like that. And as it turned out, rightly so. I'm not proud of taking it out on you.'

'You did not. Why do you gentleman types seem to think you are not allowed normal feelings? Why shouldn't you get angry, or sad, or disappointed? I'm your other half, I want to know what you are feeling, even if it's red-hot anger.

Somehow I still feel responsible for chaining you to Wickham, Fitzwilliam.'

And that was true. Though Elizabeth knew she was not responsible for Lydia's lack of restraint, had even pleaded with her father not to let her go to Brighton, she still felt bad whenever Fitzwilliam suffered from having to deal with Wickham, just because it was having married her that inexorably bound him to his worst enemy.

'Dear, dear Elizabeth, love of my life.'

His voice was like that of an angel, so calm and pure. 'You know how I feel about that, and nothing has changed: if I had told the world what a worthless piece of sh... rubbish our brother-in-law was, your father, or at least your sister's companions at the camp, would not have let your sister come anywhere close to him.'

Elizabeth had long since concluded that her father hadn't cared what happened to Lydia at all, until he realised her elopement rubbed off on her eldest sisters. Had that not been the case, she was convinced he would just have put Lydia out of his mind and resumed life as before, leaving her to reap the consequences of her own foolish behaviour. But Elizabeth had also come to realise that Lydia's uselessness had been at least partially to blame on her father: he had never done anything to try to educate her or instil some morals or values in her. Nothing. A governess might have helped to at least teach her some religion and thus conserve her respectability. Fate had been very kind to three of the Bennet girls, but painful as the realisation was, not thanks to their father. Still, she couldn't help but love him, he had always been a good father to her.

'You know I tried to get papa to stop her from going, Lydia would have found a way to discredit herself in Brighton without Wickham's help. But it was of no use, he just didn't care.'

'I know, my love, and still I kind of like him. My dear Elizabeth, I love you more than my life, do you honestly think I care how silly your relations are? I admit, I do not have your father's talent to laugh at their foolishness, but I'm pretty certain he has had years of practice. And I also admit they have annoyed me at times, but who cares? You have accepted my worse-than-silly relations without hesitation, you've been insulted time and again by Aunt Catherine and yet you would have visited, and you were prepared to welcome Anne before we all found out she was actually superb company. We do not choose our relations, my love, we can only bear with them. And if Wickham is indeed my half-brother by blood this whole discussion is futile anyway, for then it won't matter which of us saddled the other with him. Imagine Aunt Catherine's face when I tell her. I seriously think it may kill her.'

'Then she is a hypocrite, for she was seeing a commoner herself, and I guess a less talented one than Mrs Victoria Wickham. Wickham himself cannot help what his mother did. Of course it is my firmest believe that your aunt is a hypocrite.'

'I can say very little in my family's defence, except that uncle Spencer adored his wife.'

'And undoubtedly, someone will object to that, too. I love you so much, and I'm so glad to be back at Pemberley with you.'

'You have no idea how much it means to hear you say that, Elizabeth. You know I love you more than anyone, and I'm glad to be at Pemberley with you, but I'd just as soon live anywhere else as long as I can be with you.'

That was very sweet of him to say, but someone she couldn't imagine Fitzwilliam working for a living, bowing to a superior. It was much better this way.

It had been a lot of hard work for Nick and himself but it was worth it, lying in their very own room in their very own bed, without having to sneak through the house past midnight. They had merely retired to their own rooms, Simon's containing a beautifully designed but simple-looking narrow bed, and after undressing there and tossing and turning a little between the sheets and blankets, Simon had used the inside door to enter Frederick's more opulent room. In a state of total undress, why not? No-one was going to see him.

Frederick's bed was a double, ornately carved four poster made of some tropical hardwood, it was in horrific taste but Frederick had taken a fancy to the exotic style. Simon couldn't fault him for it, it was totally in character for what explorers' quarters were supposed to look like, a jumble of outrageous styles just thrown together, and while they hadn't gotten any further than a bed for everyone, they had seen enough quality pieces to furnish all their rooms to their liking. But the Darcy attics proved they had been solid, sensible gentlemen for generations, for while the quality was outstanding, this bed was the only truly exotic piece.

It weighed a ton, and even taken apart Nick and he could not have lifted it. Frederick had pitched in with his formidable strength, and even Mr Darcy, who did look more ravishing than ever sweating and heaving, had certainly managed to lift more than Simon had expected.

Despite having his meals in the common-room with Nick and Mr Darcy's staff, Simon had experienced a sense of belonging today that he had rarely felt before, even with Mr and Mrs Darcy present most of the time.

And now, tired but with the satisfaction of a job well done, though his muscles would ache tomorrow, Simon had a less ravishing but much stronger and even more influential man holding him. A solid man, who liked to take charge, but who carefully hid an incredibly tender and vulnerable personality where no-one had been able to find it, until Simon had broken the hard shell of fifteen years of institutionalized education to discover the love of his life.

'I will be stiff as a board tomorrow, Simon, so I'm guessing you will be worse. And Nick, I've never seen anyone give so much as you two did today.'

'It's because we have most to gain, my love. To be with the one we love I suppose we'd suffer a little muscle ache for a few days.'

'You know I Anne and I are just friends, and don't think I didn't see you ogling Darcy all worked up. I am the one who should be happiest with our new arrangements, no more sneaking about at night fully dressed, the most beautiful man of all, no exceptions, in my arms. Sometimes I wonder, my love, whether I'm good enough for you.'

'Rubbish, Frederick, you know I love only you. I'm pretty certain that aching for someone I knew to be unavailable was my way of coming to terms with what I am. It's easier that way, you can experience the feelings without the danger of having to act on them.'

Simon stroked the massive chest and arms with tenderness, the hard muscle and the profusion of hair all over them didn't mean the man inside that strong body couldn't be hurt, or lonely. As Simon had had his years of adversity, of struggling with his own nature and a hopeless but nonetheless very real and deep love, so had Frederick been very lonely and in denial of his aberrant feelings. He'd had to face the fact that he was going to Hell, and that his preferences would at the very least cost him his respectability, and very likely his fortune and even his freedom or his life if they ever came out. Despite Frederick's privileged position in life, Simon suspected he was more damaged by his past than Simon had been. He at least had had a happy youth with loving parents and siblings, Frederick had never known love from the moment he went to school at seven years of age. By the time he had been allowed to go home for the holidays, his mother had passed away, his father unable to give love to a child. An only child, he'd had no-one to turn to, he had grown up, but he had never been raised.

'I've never seen you mentioned in the papers otherwise than as a catch, Frederick. You're good enough for anyone. And still I know I am good enough for you, despite being the wrong sex for the rest of the world, and despite being a commoner.'

There was no answer besides being taken in a firm embrace, contrary to popular opinion Frederick was not a man of many words, not with the person he truly loved. He preferred to show his dedication physically, and his hands on Simon's slender figure, and his sweet kisses, said more than words ever could. Predictably, tenderness soon turned into passion, and the hardwood four poster became the scene of such heated kissing and fondling, licking and sucking, and finally so much heated ardour as it hadn't seen for at least a few decades, if ever.

Sitting against the elaborately carved headboard, sweating and out of breath but still touching each other with small, gentle caresses, Simon knew his beloved had something on his liver. But they had time, this was the countryside, he'd get it out once he was ready. It took no more than a few moments before Frederick scraped his throat and asked, 'Was it very bad to be relegated to the common-room for your lunch? I was about to protest but I just couldn't, people would talk. I was proud how you managed to hide any feelings.'

Dear Frederick, to worry about him when things were ever so much better than they had ever been.

'I didn't hide anything, my love, I have no problems eating with the staff. I like them, and I have been close to you so constantly the last few days, it's like a dream come true. Lugging furniture around, like that time in London you saved me from being crushed by the harpsichord. Though I'd just as soon let you and Nick handle the really heavy stuff, man he is strong!'

'I'm so relieved to hear that! And Nick, did he mind? I didn't think so.'

'He was actually relieved to be back among the kind of people he knows. I've been very close to Mr Darcy for years, I'm used to switching between roles, so to speak. He is not, I think he didn't realise the difference between a Mr Blackwood, and Mr Darcy and you. The size of Pemberley overwhelmed him for some time, until he found out the staff here was much the same. I'm afraid Mrs Eliot did give him a hard time.'

That got a reaction from Frederick, all right. He sat up straighter, and his hands stopped their caresses momentarily.

'About what? He didn't even have the time to do anything wrong! And yet he felt better in the back of the house?'

'She had heard things about him, that he was a philanderer, she was merely trying to protect her charges. He is very charming, you know, few maids could resist him. Can resist him, Dora is head over heels with him and I'm very certain he didn't encourage her at all. On the contrary, he doesn't date colleagues and she knows it.'

'He does look out for her. So he didn't mind? About the housekeeper?'

'I got the same lecture from Mrs Reynolds, and we both thought it was sweet of them. We're your staff, we can do as pleases us as long as you approve. That, Nick understands all too well, which is why he was charm itself in the common-room.'

'Do you think he is still afraid of me? It seemed that way. Nobody has ever been afraid of me, nobody I don't want to, that is.'

'Nick is not afraid of you, my love, but you have to give him time. He likes you, but he wants to serve you, you're his master. I have the same thing with Mr Darcy, and I've known him for years, chased him with a wet towel, laughed and joked with him while travelling. And yet he inspires such respect in me that I cannot call him Darcy unless I really force myself to.'

'He asked you to be familiar?'

Simon merely nodded, but it was dark so he added, 'He did.'

'That is not a little thing, Simon. I'm impressed.'

And strangely enough, Simon felt immensely pleased with that. Had he inadvertently been lying to his beloved, was he in doubt after all whether he was good enough for Frederick?


	130. Chapter 130

Chapter 140

Today, the others were going back to the attics to add some furniture to their rooms besides beds, and though Elizabeth loved to be with them, trying her new horse was even better. She'd join the explorers when they were ready to hunt for decorations, hopefully turning up some boxes with old letters as well.

It seemed like a lot of bother to put on a dress for breakfast and change afterwards, plenty of reason to instead pick one of her riding skirts and a beautifully patterned blouse with lace decorations. It would be wise to wear a pair of those woollen undergarments, though they might be too warm for spring. But taking a riding lesson astride on a horse would hurt her legs enough without chafing them as well, and her woollies were virtually invisible beneath the flowing fabric. Her sturdy boots completed her outfit.

No gentleman or lady had ever seen her thus attired, and she felt slightly nervous to join the others at the table. Of course Fitzwilliam's obvious excitement helped, he was so pleased and looked at her with such love, it reminded her of those first few days together at Pemberley. He insisted on holding her hand all the way down the stairs and to the breakfast parlour, and every ten steps he bent down and kissed her tenderly.

Thus they met Anne and Nick at the bottom of the stairs. Those two were all business towards each other, and parted with a mere nod on Anne's side and a polite bow on his, each to his own sphere. But not before Nick had bowed flamboyantly to Elizabeth, and respectfully to Fitzwilliam, and Anne exclaimed, 'Elizabeth, you look marvellous! I thought you were going to dress down in the country, but here you've brought a whole new ensemble!'

And she meant it, she hadn't even noticed the skirts were split. Not yet. Then when Elizabeth showed her by taking a large step, she was even more impressed.

'So these are the famous riding skirts! Well, I'll not be ashamed to be seen in one of them, although mother would have a cat. I want a blouse like that, too, and I'd wear it in town. You could start a whole new fashion...again.'

Seeing Anne in a setting like this, amidst the riches of a gentleman's country estate, the change from the languid, sickly creature she had been to this vibrant, kind, and beautiful young woman suddenly struck Elizabeth all over again, and she just had to embrace and kiss her.

'Elizabeth? Did I say something? Darcy, you too? Did something happen?'

Even Fitzwilliam couldn't help hugging her, right there in the large hall.

'I suppose Elizabeth and I had a similar experience, Anne. Somehow, this hall reminded us of the old you. Seeing you like this made me very happy. Am I right, my love?'

'You are. Anne, I remembered you sickly and depressed, and now you're so alive! I'm so happy for you.'

They both got their hugs right back, and all three took their time composing themselves.

'I hardly ever think of that anymore. Really. I'm just too busy enjoying myself. We had such a good night, Nick and I, thank you so much for everything you did. I can't wait to ride a horse myself.'

Then they entered the breakfast room, and of course Eric and Georgiana were already there. They had probably been practising before breakfast, despite having their honeymoon there was work to do.

'Good morning, everyone!,' Georgiana called out happily, 'Elizabeth, you keep crediting others with your fame in fashion, but I really believe you're selling yourself short. If this is your country attire, I'm glad no-one cares what is happening in the northern countryside, or we'd be overrun with fashion reporters after all, Mme Beaution in front!'

Flattered, because Anne and Georgiana did not praise insincerely, Elizabeth observed, 'I'll ask Mrs Norman to make you several, you'll need them if you are going to ride astride. Then we can look our best together.'

'So you're going to try your new hunter today, Elizabeth?' Frederick asked, just having entered the room. 'I like this skirt or these trousers, or what you call them: right now you seem to be wearing a skirt, but when you moved a little I could see you can easily sit astride a horse. Are you nervous?'

Elizabeth searched her soul before answering, 'I suppose I'm not. Mrs Norman will be there, and I trust her even more than her husband. She knows the horse and wouldn't let me ride him if he were dangerous.'

'What is his name, Elizabeth?' Georgiana now wanted to know.

'He doesn't have a name, but I'm planning to name him, I'm just waiting to hear whether Mrs Norman has already given him a name to work with, she knows him best.'

Georgiana nodded. 'Good idea, a name should fit its bearer.'

And indeed Elizabeth was not nervous when they approached the riding paddock, where Mrs Norman was already present with Peter, her adoring husband. Of course they greeted the other couple heartily before starting on the action.

'Do you want me to try him first, ma'am?' Peter then offered, 'so you can see how he reacts?'

But Elizabeth didn't, she wanted to ride her horse right now, without delay.

'Thank you, Peter, but I suppose I'll just hop on and do whatever Mrs Norman says.'

A big grin proved Peter appreciated his mistress' bravery and trust in his beloved missus, and without delay he helped Elizabeth get into the saddle. Sitting astride for the first time in months, she was glad to be wearing her woollen underwear, for though it would soon get too hot to wear it, at this moment it protected her skin against the rubbing of the hard saddle.

The bay horse waited patiently until Mrs Norman said, 'Just use your legs as always, ma'am, but maybe a little less firmly. He is much more sensitive than Daisy.'

Elizabeth did, very conscious of the warm, strong body beneath her. Still, she was sitting so much firmer than on a lady's saddle, there was no comparison. And with the slightest pressure of her heels, he stepped forward at a sedate walk, enabling her to try out his reaction to the reins and her seat. She tried to make him step towards the right with just her left leg, and succeeded. Then she sat down into the saddle firmly, exhaling, and he stopped.

'Very good, ma'am, I can see I'm hardly needed at all! You have not forgotten how to ride astride.'

And then she set Elizabeth to work as never before, riding circles and eights in the paddock on her seat alone, then repeating everything at a trot. On a side-saddle, trotting was pure torture, so Elizabeth had done little of it recently, and it was quit a task to do so now, all the relevant muscles had deteriorated through lack of exercise. But she'd soon get them back, and it was a real thrill to have a horse like this, with a longer stride and more energy in everything he did for her. And to have him do all that for her without question, he was so willing, and he clearly enjoyed the work.

Finally, Mrs Norman let Elizabeth canter a few minutes to the left, then to the right. Then they were done, and Elizabeth thought high time, her muscles were protesting.

'Excellent, ma'am, you have forgotten very little, and you're really talented! Do you want to walk him dry yourself? Peter can do it.'

'I'd like to do it myself, Mrs Norman, and thank you so much for your lesson. Do you have time for me to ask several questions?'

Mrs Norman came towards her and fell into pace with the horse, her figure very trim in her own coarser riding skirts with a simpler blouse.

'Would you please call me Sarah, Mrs Darcy? I keep wondering why my mother-in-law is standing behind me all the time, I'm used to being just plain Sarah.'

That didn't surprise Elizabeth one bit, she could not imagine anyone more down-to-earth than Sarah Norman.

'I will, Sarah, if you'll call me Elizabeth. You're my teacher after all, my life is in your hands.'

Much more easily than Elizabeth had expected, Sarah smiled and affirmed, 'I will, Elizabeth, but only because you asked me to. You're not just Peter's mistress, but also rather famous. You deserve respect.'

'Thank you, Sarah. You have a tremendous talent, and I'm so happy with the work you put into this fabulous horse. Now tell me, have you named him? You've worked with him for months, you must have used some name to refer to him, or to address him with. You know him much better than I do, and I want his name to fit him.'

Colouring a little with embarrassment, Sarah said as if confessing a terrible sin, 'You really know people, Elizabeth, for it would have been impossible for me to work so intensely with an unnamed horse. I called him Barley, for barley sweets. They have the same colour and he is so very sweet. We used to get a few barley sweets at the harvest fair when I was a young girl and I always loved them. I never thought you'd ever find out I'd named him.'

'I think Barley is a fabulous name, he ís sweet, and exactly the colour of barley sweets. You know I got those, too, on market days? Remember, I'm from the country, my father has an estate but not nearly as large as Mr Darcy's. Our carriage horses worked at the farm whenever they were needed, and we had one lazy old riding horse besides my father's hunter. It's a very good name for a horse, not too much of a mouthful. Barley it is then. Oh look, he already minds it!'

And indeed, Barley's ears flicked towards Elizabeth when she spoke his name this last time. She scratched his neck to acknowledge his attention, and his large head lowered almost towards the ground, whuffing and grunting.

'I'm so glad you've taken to each other already, Elizabeth! I've gotten attached to him, I always do with the horses I train, and I know I will have to part with them eventually, but it's so much easier when I trust their new master to truly appreciate them. I see no reason not to go out with him tomorrow, you will be with the master, who has perfect control over his horse, and you can avoid jumps until I've taught you the right way to take them. His gallop is as comfortable as his canter, and he never loses his head, not even in the presence of a nervous hunter. We've tested that with Peter on my father's most bothersome young stallion. Barley just doesn't care, he likes running, but he always minds his rider. He is incredibly hardy, the other horse may run faster, but Barley catches him in the end on pure stamina.'

'Thank you so much, Sarah, I'm so happy with him! Do you still have time to sew, with your little boy and your father's hunters to ride as well as Barley? Mrs Fielding and Mr Darcy's cousin Miss de Bourgh need these skirts, too, they will also be learning how to ride.'

'Mr Darcy asked me to give them lessons, but I didn't realise they would need skirts, too. Frankly, I do not see how I'll ever find the time, not even with my mother to help out. Shall I just give the pattern to Mrs Reynolds, so she can let the seamstress have it to adapt for your relatives?'

Somehow, that didn't feel right.

'But then the seamstress can make as many as she likes, and you will make nothing off your invention.'

Sarah realised that instantly, and was lost for words for a few moments, until she observed, 'Begging your pardon, Elizabeth, but do you think many gentlemen will let their ladies ride astride? Do you think there will be a large market for riding skirts?'

Not many gentlemen would, no. But seamstresses did not only work for the few gentlemen in the county.

'Sadly you are right where ladies are concerned, but I've heard a lot of farmers' daughters ride, and always astride. They might like a beautiful skirt. Why don't I discuss this with Mrs Reynolds, she undoubtedly knows how to deal with the seamstress so you receive your due for developing the riding skirt. And I will let you know what she comes up with. We can just pay for the pattern so you'll have something, though I'd prefer you profit from other sales as well.'

'You are more than fair, Elizabeth, and I am very glad you and Barley are such a good match. We'll see each other the day after tomorrow then, for another lesson?'

They made an appointment for their next lesson, after which Barley had cooled down enough to eat his reward of grain and go back to his paddock. Fitzwilliam helped her from the saddle, after which Peter took the reins and led Barley away.

'Elizabeth, I'm stunned how well you rode a new horse after months of riding a side-saddle. Do you like him? Never mind, I can see you do, your eyes sparkle, though I suppose your muscles hurt more than a little.'

'They do. I think I'd like a bath straight away, for I wouldn't want to be too stiff to ride tomorrow. Sarah thinks we can go out tomorrow, she expects no difficulties. We've arranged another lesson the day after. I can't wait, my love, not for the riding out, nor for the lesson. Thank you so much for your beautiful and lovely gift, Fitzwilliam, Barley is the perfect horse for me.'

'So you were right, he had a name already?'

'His colour reminded Sarah of the barley sweets she got on special occasions, and since he is as sweet and as special as those were to her then, she thought it a fitting name, though she never expected me to ask for it or keep it. I agree Barley is a good name for a horse and especially this one, for he is indeed sweet, and the colour of barley sweets. I also loved those, though I got them more often, at least every month.'

'I am glad you like him, and his name. Let's get you that bath, your legs are shaking. Thank you, Mrs Norman, you're a treasure!'

The good woman didn't even blush at Fitzwilliam's gallantry and why should she? Her own husband worshipped the ground she walked on, and though he didn't own a big slice of Derbyshire, Sarah didn't seem to care about that at all.

Their first night at Pemberley in their very own room had been magical. Last night, that room had only held the bed, but Nick knew Anne had big plans for the decorations, her own little piece of heaven, like Nick's had been in the Blackwood attic but much larger and less secret. Actually, it would be theirs, they had picked out the bed together, a sleek double with clean, flowing lines and a lovely horsehair mattress. And the comforter Mrs Reynolds had provided proved she was really happy to see Anne again, is was so thick and soft, much nicer than the one Nick had on his narrow cot in the adjacent room. He had chosen to furnish his room according to his stature, bare and simple. He did not expect to spend much time there, anyway, and the spare time he did spend by himself he would be reading, Mr Darcy had included Nick in his invitation to use his huge library, an offer Nick planned to avail himself of. And not just to to 'improve his mind', though that story had reached him through Anne, and had made both of them very curious about the book with the naughty content.

'Hello there?' a gentle voice interrupted his thoughts. 'I'm Pauline, one of the general maids. Are you with Mr Darcy's friends? I haven't seen you before, have I?'

Actually, Nick had seen Pauline from across the table in the common-room, where she had served the staff lunch and dinner. She was about twenty, Nick estimated, and rather pretty in a full-bosomed, red-cheeked way. In his former life, he'd have tumbled her without hesitation or remorse, except that she was of the same household as he was now.

'Hello Pauline, I'm Nick. I did indeed arrive with the party yesterday, I'm in Mr Manners' service as his fiancée's personal guard. Miss de Bourgh is Mr Darcy's cousin on both their mothers' side.'

'Mr Darcy's mother is deceased, isn't she?'

'True, but Miss de Bourgh's mother is still very much alive. I saw her just a few days ago.'

'As a guard you must see so many important people!'

Another one? Nick didn't need another wide-eyed maid following his every move, what was it that attracted them to him? He was older, not handsome, constantly on the move with his master and mistress, and he didn't encourage them at all. Or did he, but without being aware of it? Better ask the others, maybe there was something he could do to prevent this from happening again and again.

'I haven't been a guard for very long, but I've met quite a lot of interesting people. Well, actually, seen them, not met them, we're not acquainted or anything. But they are generally nice. Before Mr Manners hired me I chaperoned two girls in London, twins about your age.'

'They say Mrs Darcy is not twenty one, but I cannot believe it.'

'I think she turned twenty one just last winter, so you'd better. Have you worked here long, Pauline? And have you met Dora, Miss de Bourgh's maid?'

'I was hired especially for spring and summer, because so many guests are expected. I've been here for a week now and I like it a lot. My dad didn't want me to come, he says cooking and cleaning for him and later for a husband was good enough for my mother and should be good enough for me. But I have three sisters and they need clothes and shoes, and the youngest is really smart. If I earn enough here, maybe she can study to be a nurse and escape the village and being some farmer's wife.'

'Is your father one of Mr Darcy's tenants?'

'He is. I don't want to be like my mother and scrub my doorstep every day and wash my curtains every week. I want to live and see the world.'

That was it, she wanted Nick to help her find a position. Well, he could try, and if the sister was as smart as Pauline thought maybe there was a chance of her being sent to a nursing school, he supposed all those villagers needed care every so often, and midwives, too.

'Thank you for telling me, Pauline. I may be able to do something, but not today or tomorrow, it will take time.'

The girl laid a hand on his and looked as if she was trying to seduce him. But she wasn't, not really, she hoped to use him and was prepared to pay the price.

'Never mind, Pauline,' he said calmly and kindly, 'I don't require payment for a little favour, especially not that kind. I'm not even sure I can help, but I will try. I don't do that at all with the people I share a household with, you know.'

Maybe she would tell others, he could hope, though he wouldn't bet on it. And he would ask Mrs Eliot to talk to the girl, to convince her that most men would abuse such an offer. He had a feeling the lady would not fire a maid for trying to get help for her sister, but Nick would have to be careful, he already had this reputation.

'I've met Dora, she is nice. And she is Miss de Bourgh's maid, that is such an honour. She said Miss de Bourgh promised her she could stay after the wedding, but do you think a married lady in London can have a young girl like Dora as maid? Is it true that Simon only flirts with the maids? Mr Manners' valet? You must know him well.'

She sighed deeply and muttered, 'He is so beautiful, and so kind. He thanked me for the soup, yesterday evening. My heart just stopped.'

So much for girls falling for Nick! Apparently he was only useful to solve problems, whereas Simon was to be mooned over. Well, let them moon over Mr Manners' beautiful valet, Nick and he were equally unavailable, and yet they would both have to maintain their reputation as flirts to avoid speculations over their true loves. There was no way Nick could seduce any of the ladies present, so maybe he would have to size down to maids. But then again, he had promised Mrs Eliot he wouldn't even think about it. Oh well, Simon would know a solution, he had played this game for years. Nick would have to face Dora and tell her not to make herself unhappy over him, but to let him teach her to read and write well, then send a letter to a certain Frank in Kent.

As Pauline left to resume her duties in the house and the kitchen, Nick welcomed Simon to his table and poured coffee for him.

'Was it as good for you?'

'Yes, Simon, it was just perfect. No sneaking about, no waking at dawn, just total bliss.'

Simon nodded, and added, 'I can even stick around, help Frederick dress and do his hair, then leave the room together. No-one will think anything of it. No-one will even see, the maids come in at noon to change water, sweep the hearths and lay fires and remove the laundry and the waste. Then they go back downstairs.'

But all was not well in paradise, and Nick looked his question at Simon's sudden frown.

'It's just that, well, Frederick has a date in mind that he will propose to Anne, for the wedding. It's pretty soon, and he will refrain from festivities, but still...'

'We'll manage, Simon, really. I never expected to find love, and I bet you never did either. So it's not all roses, but it's so much more than I ever hoped to have.'

'You are right, we'll make the most of it. Rub it in mercilessly until they feel so guilty they'll do anything for us.'

'Or relish the love between them, and our friendship, for that makes this more than an ordinary marriage.'

'We might do that, too. Though I still prefer my option, Frederick wouldn't hesitate to follow up on an advantage...'

'You are so right, well, playing on guilt it is. I'll think of something I want.

Have you seen Dora? I wanted to talk to her but I cannot find her.'

'I think she is helping the housekeepers with some embroidery or something. Apparently they cannot see everything as clearly as they used to, and Dora is pretty handy with a needle and thread.'

'I never knew that, I never saw her set a single stitch.'

'She says she hasn't the patience to finish a whole piece, but she made Mrs Reynolds very happy. I suppose she will be back here any moment now, looking for a glimpse of you.'

Nick told him about the other maid, and Simon looked thoughtful.

'There is no female company to suit our reputation out here, I've always pretended to do without while at Pemberley. I think Hugo does without until he has leave in town. So you can just continue your 'I don't do that within my own household' routine. I'll do the same. Hugo will return in a few days and he'll spread our fame along with his own.'

Hugo, of course! He'd brag and try to include Simon and Nick in his stories. Good. One possible problem taken care of. They finished their breakfast, and as Simon got up to leave, Nick asked, 'Can you tell Anne I have a problem to solve right here? I need to know that Dora is all right, I haven't seen her since our arrival. And once I know she is, I'll have to crush her heart, dammit. And tell Mrs Eliot that her hired maid has an unsophisticated view of men that may get her in trouble.'

'Which maid?'

'Her name is Pauline, she's young, attractive, and ready to fall in love with your handsome face. You thanked her for the soup yesterday evening.'

Simon's face touched his palm for a few seconds, then he looked up and groaned.

'When will I learn not to thank young maidens for a bowl of soup? Never mind, I'll be cold and arrogant tonight, nip this in the bud. Can't trust a valet, you know.'

Simon left, head still shaking, and within ten minutes Dora came into the common-room, her face lighting up when she saw Nick.

'Nick! You're here! I've missed you so much!'

She tried to embrace him but he couldn't let her, he had warned her, she knew he loved another, and before that he'd loved anything with a skirt, he had not given her a single reason to fall in love with him. Her face fell at his cold reaction, heart breaking, but it had to be done.

'We need to talk, Dora.'

Despite the kind tone she almost started crying, she knew, she just couldn't help herself.

'Dora, why? I warned you, didn't I?'

Now she was crying, but he couldn't comfort her, it would give her hope and cause her to keep an eye on him all the time.

'I know, you warned me, not just once, but twice. And the mistress warned me, again, said you and Simon would never be true to a girl as Bob is. But you're so nice, and strong, and everything I wanted in a man. I'm sorry, Nick, I didn't choose to fall in love with you, you know, it just happened. No-one ever sees me, just you.'

He had to try, though he knew what she would say.

'That is not true, Dora, I remember someone who was very obviously in love with you, maybe not a slightly dangerous older man like me, or a sophisticated beautiful man like Simon, more like a faithful Bob. Kind, and observant. More handsome than Bob I guess.'

That pulled her out of her misery for a few moments, and she looked at Nick with a question in her eyes.

'Someone is in love with me? Really?'

'Yes, at Rosings, Frank. Remember him? Tall fellow, very sensible, missed you a lot?'

'Frank? You think he is in love with me? But he treats me like his sister, he never said a thing.'

Slightly better than Nick expected.

'And he is a boy, not a man.'

Or maybe not.

'He is as much a man as you are a woman, Dora. He led me back to the parsonage, then pleaded me not to harm his mistress or Hughes, since they were both getting on a bit.'

'That is so like Frank. So you say he is in love with me? Did he tell you?'

'We only met for twenty minutes, Dora. But it showed, he was so glad to see you. I bet he was devastated when you left. Think, Dora, what he talked about when I had left, and how he looked at you. Am I right?'

She took her time, Nick had expected her to just call him a boy and ignore him, but she seemed to take Nick's words seriously.

'I think you're right, he did show all of the signs, didn't he? And he begged me to write, except I couldn't promise because, you know. He mentioned the two of us being so close, do you think he knows? You think he was jealous of you? It could very well have been, though he was very respectful of you.'

'I wouldn't be surprised if he suspected, he seemed very astute. I will help you to improve your writing starting tomorrow, Dora. Mr Manners and Miss de Bourgh will agree, and they will not blame you for never having learned. You cannot help it, you never had the chance. And I'll help you write your letters to Frank, and to read his replies, until you can read and write them all by yourself. Because I will always be your friend, Dora, and I want you to be happy.'

'But I wanted to become a lady's maid, and live in town.'

'Well, you'll just be writing to him, nothing more, nothing less. See what happens. If you find you can love him, you can always decide then. He will be so happy to hear from you, and it will give you someone to think about. Just after lunch tomorrow? Right here?'

'I'd rather not have anyone see me struggling. Can't we go somewhere private?'

Nick looked at her intensely.

'You do not want to be alone with me. I understand. Right here it is then, and I'm still very sorry. Can you ask Miss de Bourgh whether she'll see me for a few minutes? I can brush her hair, and keep her dresses from wrinkling. I cannot sit here and do nothing, Nick, it makes me miserable.'

'You always found something to do at Mr Darcy's town house, and I'm sure you'll make yourself indispensable here. Give it a little time, Dora. But I will talk to Miss de Bourgh. Gossip says she'll soon get married, she'll need you to help her dress and do her hair. And we'll still be friends, Dora, and Simon likes you. And next week Fanny will be back to work and you can talk or work together. Don't worry, everything will be just fine.'

And it would be, even if Nick had to make it so all by himself. Dora did not mention Nick's love for her mistress again, for which Nick was grateful.

After Elizabeth's bath and the inevitable consequences, it was time for lunch, and then Elizabeth said she meant to get to know Mrs Eliot a little better, and see how things were going in the back of the house.

'Mrs Reynolds and I still have the tour of the house to plan, remember? And I want everyone to know I am aware of the work they do day in, day out. Not just the housekeeper and the cook, but also the maids and the kitchen helpers. We'll see plenty of the gardeners and the stable staff, but house staff want some recognition, too.'

Showing his approval, Darcy decided his duties as a landlord were also due some attention, so he sent for his steward and then spent some time catching up on his mail. Letters of business went to the pile he'd discuss with Nathan, and soon he came across a thick epistle from Colonel Drummond, the letter he had expected and was looking forward to reading.

That kind man indeed described how his wife had changed their entire drawing-room into a fantastic image of her family's past. Persian rugs, flimsy exotic fabrics, intricately carved hardwood furniture now reigned supreme, perfected with glass versions of everything. Vases, lampshades, a chandelier, apparently everything could be made of glass in Newcastle, and Mrs Drummond had bought it all.

 _But to be honest, it looks amazing, and it makes Penelope very happy. I have kept my promise to stay away from her pristine part of the moors, except when we go there together, of course. We only ride, not hunt, and I leave my hounds at the manor. Penelope is doing really well riding astride, the side-saddle hasn't been used much since she set aside her feelings of shame and just tried. Except this once, when I set aside my own feelings of shame and tried Bernice with the lady's saddle in the riding paddock, just to know what it felt like. And to call your bluff, Darcy. Have you tried already?_

 _I dared young Daniel to try it as well, and he did, as did Williams. That man is a hero and a perfect choice for a stable master, and about to be married according to Penelope. We all looked a little white around the nose afterwards, but no-one laughed at us and Kendrick didn't comment, he only looked sour. He does that a lot these days, he knows his promotion was in fact a punishment._

 _The stable hands are back into the servants' quarters of the main house, and the extra common-room in the stables is being made over to accommodate the new horses. Though we decided to change the stables' set-up altogether and make more use of paddocks such as Mr Miller has, it warms my heart to see the horses standing together, grooming each other, running, rolling in the dust, and sharing their meals like friends._

 _Bucephalus is doing well with the new mares, and Mr Miller will take him when those are all in foal. Cavort is now living with us and has bred the hunter mares that were not yet in foal from last summer. That is all we can do for the Drummond hunter this year, except for that young scamp Daniel who is working himself to a thread keeping Bucephalus fit and training Cavort and two hunter geldings I plan to sell to make room for Penelope's new hunters. She wants to join the hunt this fall, and her mares are too old for that. She is absolutely fearless astride, your lady saw much clearer than I did, and not just in the case of Penelope's riding: Williams has made our stables a much better place for staff but also for Penelope herself._

 _I hope I will be able to join her in the hunt, things are heating up abroad, your brother-in-law's regiment is leaving for Kent within the month for specialist training, and from there to Spain. Please let that go no further than you and Mrs Darcy. Penelope has good hopes I will be spared another tour of duty on the mainland on account of my age, but I feel less than sure about that. I will have to see to believe. But since I wouldn't be in the thick of the fighting anyway, until then I'll worry more for those who will be in the line of fire, like Lieutenant Wickham and the other rifles. Your brother-in-law has been commended several times by his new superior, I am glad I allowed him entrance to the Rifle Corps and had him promoted, he has proven altogether worthy of the faith bestowed upon him. Despite your differences, I hope you will be able to enjoy the knowledge that you made it possible for him to improve himself. His removal to Kent will no longer endanger him with regards to his weaknesses, I think, it seems he has embraced the life of an officer, and I have heard his wife is expecting so all must be well with your sister, too._

Wickham a valued officer? Colonel Drummond certainly rated a man on his aptitude, not his past. And apparently Wickham was an excellent soldier indeed. Maybe Darcy should leave the past where it belonged, far behind him, but it was difficult to do when the man in question still seemed determined to get at his wife. Elizabeth still hadn't told him what had happened between them and he hadn't asked, finally having learned that some things were better left alone. Georgiana barely remembered what Wickham had done to her, and Hertfordshire remembered his debts and his lies, the ones he told about Darcy now undoubtedly exposed as well. Was there still a need to hate the man so fervently? Shouldn't Darcy just get over it and just think of him as another brother-in-law? Or a brother, part of his mind insinuated. But there was other news in the letter that was of more moment. Lydia was with child again already? That would hurt Elizabeth to hear, but he would tell her anyway. There was no reason at all to assume she wouldn't be expecting a child herself in a few months or maybe a year, and though somehow it was still a very sensitive subject she would want to know about her sister as soon as possible.

At least the Colonel had decided in favour of Cavort and to have Mr Miller and Mr Smith involved in the Drummond hunter, that was an excellent idea since those two men were true experts on the subject of horses, and they would have the right contacts to find new lines of stable-tempered stock for the future.

The rest of the letter contained some news on the Kembles, the state of the camp in general, and warm greetings to Mrs Darcy, also from Mrs Drummond. Darcy decided to wait a few days writing his return, to be able to give a full account of Elizabeth's first rides into the country side, and her first lessons in taking obstacles. That would also give him a few days to gather courage to ride the side-saddle, maybe he could raise the stakes by having it on his own black instead of Daisy. Or maybe not.

A knock on the door announced his steward, and before they continued to business matters, Darcy obtained leave to visit and search their attic for possessions of the past inhabitants.

'I think there were a few boxes with old stuff, and since we didn't need the space we just pushed them into a corner in case someone would want them. I'd expected Mr Wickham to come for them, if anyone, not you, Mr Darcy. But you are welcome to them.'

'He is Lieutenant Wickham now, Nathan, and I guess he will not be returning for keepsakes of his parents. The Rifle Corps is serious business. Still, they're very happy with him, I suppose there is a place for everyone in this large and beautiful country.'

'Amen to that, sir. I'm just glad not to be living in France right now.'

And with that truth they turned to the business ahead, schemes of crop rotation and planting, letters to and from suppliers, transporters, buyers, a plea for help from a tenant's wife over her husband's prolonged illness, all of which Nathan had already replied to or acted on, Darcy's task was merely to keep track of everything and make some final decisions that had been waiting for his arrival.

Two hours saw their business concluded, after which Darcy joined his sister and her fellow-explorers, finding Elizabeth among them once more, eager to greet him with a hug and a kiss.


	131. Chapter 131

Chapter 141

After a warm embrace and kiss, Fitzwilliam wanted to know how Elizabeth's meeting with Mrs Reynolds had been.

'It was as if we never left, my love, really. Except for Mrs Eliot's presence, and a few extra maids to help prepare for our visitors, everything was just as it had been. Mrs Eliot is very nice, very effective. I suppose she wasn't raised to be a drawing-room ornament, you know she is ten years Mrs Reynolds' senior but she doesn't show her age at all. They're very good friends.

Anyway, we talked a little with the staff, new and old, and then we made a plan for the tour. That reminds me, we need to send word to Mrs Annesley about the centrepiece for the dining room. Seeing it again I think I know which one I'd like, and Mrs Reynolds agrees, but I'd like to have your opinion as well, it's your ancestral home after all.'

By now they were back in the attic, and this time, Eric offered to mind the lamps.

'I've seen my share of old stuff for today, Elizabeth, please take my place for a few hours. This is a magnificent place to order my thoughts, I won't be bored.'

He was almost back to his own self, a few days of quiet travel and the solicitude of Pemberley had worked wonders already, but...

'Aren't you a bit sorry you didn't choose to go to a nice little guesthouse for your honeymoon? I mean, you're still beset by us, instead of having some time all by yourselves.'

'With you I can be very frank, Elizabeth, and in fact I'm glad to be here, too few people around would be as much of a shock as too many. This is just right. And an inn or a guesthouse wouldn't have an instrument, not one to our standards, and if we'd take the little piano we'd get complaints or curious passers-by disturbing us. Besides, I cannot stop music from welling up inside me, I have to write it down or have it take over my mind, and I know I'm not much fun to be with in that state. Georgiana doesn't mind my spending hours on composing, but only because she has all of you to keep her company. All by ourselves in a strange place things would be very inconvenient for her. Somehow our wedding wasn't that much of an impact, we were so close before, you know. Of course there is the physical part of it, but there is more private space for that on a large estate than anywhere else, which you should know, having read of Pierre's exploits.'

The last was said with a large wink, and Elizabeth wondered whether he did so without blushing, it was a bit too dark to really see.

'Have you looked for a harpsichord already? I suppose you'll want one to stay in shape?'

'I looked, but I didn't find one. Darcy said to check the other attic, apparently there is another one this size, with stuff other than furniture. So much wealth, Elizabeth, gathering dust. I thought I was used to riches by now, having seen several great houses, and your London attic. Of Carlton House we only saw the one room. But this is just unimaginable, why does one family have so much?'

Frankly, Elizabeth hadn't looked at it that way, she just saw the quaintness of old things. She had never realised the wealth they represented, the raw material and the labour involved. They tended to forget, but Eric came from roots maybe even more humble than Nick.

'I see what you mean,' she said slowly, 'I just saw a lot of old stuff to sort through and use, when Fitzwilliam would just buy new furniture. But that is just it, isn't it? For then even more wealth would rest up here, where no-one can profit by it.'

'I don't think Mr Blackwood would see it that way, Mrs Darcy.'

That was Nick's voice, she hadn't seen him coming closer, nor heard him. But of course he had told them why he had learned to walk noiselessly.

'I thought I'd offer to watch the lamps for a bit, Anne would like your opinion on some things she likes a lot. And we can easily take turns here.'

'Thank you, Nick, I'm glad you and Eric thought of me. But what did you mean with Mr Blackwood being of a different opinion? Other people could use this furniture instead of it sitting here, couldn't they?'

'Oh, sorry, Mr Fielding, I didn't see you before. I don't want to be in your way.'

Eric looked pained, and said firmly, 'I am no more a gentleman than you are, Nick, and you know it, so please, just Eric. And I'd like to know Mr Blackwood's opinion, too. I'd say it is a big waste of resources to keep a fortune in furniture up here where it does no-one any good.'

'Thank you, Eric. I know where you came from, but everyone shows you such respect, I thought I'd do the same. Now, imagine that table Mr Darcy got all of you as a present.'

They nodded, it was a beautiful table, but they had seen three similar ones so far in this attic alone.

'The tradesman that sold it to Mr Darcy was mighty pleased to sell such a large piece. It was probably an order that had been cancelled, or a show piece he never thought he would sell. Every time Mr Darcy or anyone else buys a piece of furniture, or one of those riding skirts Anne is talking of having fitted tomorrow, some trader or businessman makes a living. Every piece of furniture you use from the attic costs a trader business. And since Mr Darcy is the wealthiest man in these parts, his custom is important.

So, while this attic may seem wasteful to you, to a man like Mr Blackwood, who lives off trade, or the local crafters, it is a gift.'

Elizabeth nodded, now she understood. But Eric asked, 'I get that, you are obviously much more practical than I am. But isn't it unfair that some have barely adequate furniture when so much beautiful stuff is forgotten up here?'

'That I cannot deny. My parents or my siblings would love to have quality furniture like this, even a single piece, but they'll never even come close. And yet some tradesman would suffer a loss if they were to get some of these forgotten pieces. It's how the world works, how trade works.'

Elizabeth decided they could use some time together, get to know each other.

'I'm going to leave those lamps in your excellent care, Eric, Nick. I think you may have to write to Mr Blackwood to solve this puzzle for us, Nick, I'm certain it will continue to plague us all. If you come to a conclusion by yourselves I'd love to hear, but now I feel like joining the search. A little bird told me you had a nice thing going in an attic once, Nick?'

With his charming, most cheeky laugh, the burly guard replied, 'I most certainly did, ma'am. Even Mr Blackwood had some lovely pieces stored, and until I lost my heart to Miss de Bourgh I had a great time among them.'

'You should ask him about that, Eric. I think he may have put Pierre to shame.'

And with that she was off, looking for Anne.

Eric realised he had not really talked privately with Nick, yet, though of course they had come to know each other reasonably well the last few weeks. Hanging out in Darcy's town house, and now working together on the second-floor rooms, Eric felt a tremendous sympathy for the other man, he supposed they were much of an age as well as of low birth but used to a middle-class household. Of course Mr Blackwood was a gentleman, but as far as Eric understood he was in the wrong trade to be as respectable as either Darcy or Frederick. And Eric had never actually served anyone, although he had been as dependent on Mr Zumpe as any servant on his master, he had never done anything but playing the piano. Right now, Nick's expression was a mixture of embarrassment and cheek, and though Eric felt much at a disadvantage because he had been a virgin less than a month ago, Elizabeth's remark had made him curious.

'You know who Pierre is, Nick?'

'Anne told me, he's the main character in a very naughty book with explicit descriptions of the art of making love. She said Mrs Darcy gave it to Mrs Fielding a few days before your wedding to 'improve her mind'. I think that is the best thing one could do for any young woman or man, I admire Mrs Darcy tremendously.'

Well, Eric could not fault him for that, he'd had a thing for Elizabeth from the very first.

'Don't we all, as mere men? Up to and including the Prince of Wales?'

'So that is also true? I thought Anne was joking, I couldn't believe it.'

'It's true all right, he was practically dripping with admiration when we were playing at Carlton House. There are some pieces that need my utmost concentration, but sometimes I can watch my audience and he kept checking her out. Fortunately he turned out quite a good sort, despite his reputation.'

Nick showed some exasperation here.

'Tell me about it, I've been there often enough. Of course I wanted that reputation, was proud of my prowess, but to have my mistress' lady friends looking me over as if I was a piece of meat they considered buying was less than pleasant. Seriously, some could barely refrain from checking the goods right there in the drawing-room, when the mistress had me over to introduce me to some new friend.'

Remembering the surreptitious touches outside the concert halls, Eric understood completely, some ladies had no sense of shame whatsoever, and Eric suspected those were the ones that sought out Nick.

'Didn't that make you feel like, well, one of the those paid women?'

Nick laughed and shook his head.

'No, I liked it. Once I had them to myself I was the one in charge, they were no longer my superior. We were just a man and a woman, and they'd do anything for me. I did that for ten years, and if I hadn't met Anne I suppose I'd still be doing it.'

'Ten years? You can't be much older than I am! You must have been just a boy when you started!'

Eric definitely felt very naïve, and what Nick said next didn't make it any better.

'I was sixteen, and I'm twenty six now, twenty seven this summer.'

'You were sixteen when you had your first woman? Nick, I'll be twenty eight this fall, and Georgiana was as much my first as I was hers. You know when we got married, you were there.'

'Did you miss it? You're a handsome man, women everywhere admire you, and not just for your looks. You could have had anyone, so I guess you probably didn't want to.'

That was the plain truth.

'Until I fell in love with Georgiana I never had the slightest interest in any woman. Not that way. I grew up with my patron's daughter and when she started to look at me in a certain way I couldn't understand, she was like a sister to me. My patron wanted me to marry her, but I just couldn't, it would have been wrong, we would both have been very unhappy. When I told him that, he kicked me out, and Mr Darcy saved me from the streets.'

'I'm sorry to hear that. One of my charges fell in love with me and her father, my master, would have let us get married. But as you said, she was like a sister, I couldn't have done that with her. You were so right to refuse.

So you never wanted to be with a woman until you met Mrs Fielding. And if you never felt the need, why be bothered about that? I suppose I didn't particularly want to be with a woman at sixteen, looking back knowing what I know now I guess I was used. I'd taken a position in a trader's household, I was a good fighter and he wanted a guard to protect his shop at night but he was too cheap to hire an adult.

I was be on the ground floor in the shop, while the family lived upstairs. The merchant was older than his wife, and they didn't have any children, yet. She was very kind to me, I had a hard time adjusting to the working hours and the responsibility, and to being treated as a servant, my youth had been rather free because my parents never minded their children much, and my mistress made me feel wanted and even loved. When she joined me downstairs of an evening I didn't think anything of it and enjoyed the company.'

Eric was almost afraid of what was coming next, but he knew this was a rare moment, most likely Anne hadn't even heard this. They had all just accepted Nick being a philanderer, neither of them had ever wondered how he'd gotten that way.

'She had taken me to the master's office, where I had been only once, when I was hired, and sat me down on an easy chair. I was sixteen but I looked older, I was as broad as I am now already, and I had to shave every two days. She offered to kiss, which I liked very much, and then she stroked me in progressively intimate places. She did not take much time but merely teased me into frantic lust and had me take her on the desk. I lost it, but she loved it. During the next months she came to me often, and strangely enough I did not fall in love with her, but merely enjoyed the action and the attention. Until she got with child.

No-one ever suspected, but somehow I knew it was mine. Her attentions wavered, I suppose I'd given her what she wanted, a child, and I didn't grieve, but I decided I'd had enough anyway. My master did not look like me at all, he was blonde, tall and skinny. I'd have been in serious trouble if she had a dark, burly boy or girl. And besides, I had grown used to being pleased, she'd taught me all she knew and we'd explored a lot besides. I knew nothing would be forthcoming from her and I needed the thrill, preferring by now not to get attached to my lovers.

So I asked for her recommendation and got it, finding a new position quickly with one of her friends. The same situation unfolded and a year later I left, again, with good recommendations. I knew that wouldn't always be the case, I'd grown more worldly-wise and discovered about protection, deciding to not get any woman with child again. The next time I chose a place with more freedom and more choice of ladies, my reputation as a guard had spread and I could pick from several, without having to risk pleasing my own mistress at the risk of exposure. I suppose that was seven years ago, I learned quickly. Since then I've chaperoned adolescent girls while pleasing their mothers' friends, until I met Anne and lost my heart for philandering. Having tasted true love I can never go there again, but the reputation sticks to me and I need to keep it to protect all four of us. So now you know what I did for ten years.'

He did not sound sad, so Eric dared ask the question that burned him.

'I suppose your experience makes you very skilled. I was afraid the first time, I'd never done anything important before without thorough preparation.'

Now Nick laughed merrily, and observed, 'I have reason to believe you improved your mind very thoroughly, Eric. But yes, I do believe I'm skilled, and I do think it matters, especially to a woman. I've had so many ladies who had never been pleased by their husbands. Some even said they preferred not to have their husband touch them. But I'm sure you didn't start out playing the piano as well as you do now, it takes time and practice to learn a skill. And if you ask your wife what she enjoys, and tell her what you enjoy, and explore together, I'm certain you will do incredibly well. There is such love between you, it took me ten years to find out that skill wasn't everything, that love was much more important.'

Somehow, though his common sense had already suggested as much, it was a real relief to hear a true expert say love was enough, love and a willingness to learn.

'Thank you, Nick, I hoped you'd say that.'

'In a way, the very fact that you are afraid to fall short is enough to avoid disappointment: my ladies always told me their husbands were more than satisfied with their own prowess. So much so that they never though to ask their wives.

Would you mind lending us the book? Pierre's book? I've been very curious about him, and I'd like to know whether what Mrs Darcy hinted was true: that I really am as good at this one thing.'

'Of course, Anne wanted to borrow it anyway. I'll talk it over later with Georgiana.'

After that, Nick asked him questions about Eric's own youth, and for as long as the others browsed through the stacks of furniture and the boxes of fabric and cushions, they talked and got to know each other a lot better.

On Saturday, Elizabeth was excited once again because they were going out together, Fitzwilliam on his road horse this once to make her feel safer, but not the black since he was still on his way from London. Mrs Reynolds had arranged for the seamstress to visit later in the day and Elizabeth was planning to be there, for she could use another set of riding skirts and blouses, she seemed to have gained some weight around the waist and across her breasts. Of course that suggested she might be with child, but she had no idea what that felt like, she didn't feel any different. Maybe she should write to Charlotte or to Jane and ask. Or to both, though Jane's visit would be early enough to ask, it was less than a month before they'd all come to Pemberley. She remembered Jane mentioning being less stable, and she had cried pretty easily that time they found out about Miss Bingley marrying Grenfell, but Elizabeth felt exactly the same as before, except that it was such a relief to not be bothered by reporters and princes.

'You are more beautiful than ever, my love,' her beloved whispered in her ear as they crossed the lawn towards the stables. 'Where shall we ride today? Do you want to keep it short not to suffer muscle aches?'

She could hear he hoped she'd answer that question with a nagative, he really wanted to ride out across his very own hills and through his very own woods, and since she wanted nothing more than to be with him and please him, she said, 'I think I can stand a long ride, and I really want to see that hill again, the rock-strewn one with the view. Shall we go there today?'

He knew instantly which hill she meant, and as soon as they had mounted they were off, Barley eager to be accompanying his paddock-mate on a trip. Elizabeth hadn't realised before that Fitzwilliam's bay road horse was in the paddock with Barley, but now she recognised the sturdy animal by his irregular blaze.

'Did they group our horses together in a paddock on purpose, so they'd get used to each other? Or is that just coincidence?'

Fitzwilliam was surprised by her observation and replied, 'Now you mention it, my favourite hunter was in that group as well. I suppose Hugo thought of that, or maybe Peter or Mrs Norman suggested it. But I'm certain they wouldn't have done it if the horses hadn't liked each other.'

It was a real treat to ride out together, the weather was fine, the horses were relaxed and eager for a long ride, and Fitzwilliam kept eyeing her with admiration. His falling in love with her was the best thing that could ever have happened to her, no exceptions.

When they returned, her legs were tired and a bit sore, but they'd had a magnificent ride, almost one and a half hours of walking along shady forest lanes, trotting through seemingly endless meadows, already drying up and turning green, and galloping across gently sloping hills covered in a rougher kind of grass. The view was spectacular, and Elizabeth couldn't wait to take the others to this place. Their ride ended behind the house, on the long slope down towards the lake, and as they passed the Roman temple Elizabeth had a naughty idea. Why not go inside for ten minutes and make out a little? No-one would see them there.

'Let's stop here for a few moments, my love,' she said, and tied Barley to a small tree where he could graze a little. Fitzwilliam followed, from the main space of the temple they could still see the horses, and Elizabeth felt a little twinge of excitement. As soon as they were well and truly inside, she caught her beloved in her arms and took a firm grip of his neck, pulling his face towards hers. He did not hesitate to return her kiss, and soon they were making out with passion. A short glance towards the horses proved they were still patiently chewing grass, a little difficult with a bit but like most horses, they managed.

The temple had several windows to let in the light, and each of them had a ledge she could easily sit on. Excitement growing, she wriggled her hand inside Fitzwilliam's shirt, her other stroking the fastenings of his pantaloons. Would he be able to set aside his strict morals to indulge his baser feelings?

Well, he was doing rather well, his own hand was stroking her breasts under her coat, and he was standing really close to her, rubbing himself against her legs suggestively.

'Is this button on your blouse a little tight, my love?' he asked, his voice thick with heat.

'I do think it is, I seem to have gained some weight. Riding skirts and blouses are more revealing than dresses that way.'

Did his eyebrow raise the slightest bit? Was there a hint of a soft smile in his lovely mouth? It didn't matter, either she was expecting or she wasn't, and if the latter, she would make sure to have another chance at making a baby right now, her body was demanding it of her, and the way his pantaloons were now stretched to their full extent his thoughts weren't differently engaged.

They were both too tightly dressed in corset and coat to undress, but their heat could no longer be denied, Fitzwilliam lifted her into the window seat and started on her fastenings, kissing her every so often to keep the heat up, and she stroked his hair and his manly cheeks, she could no longer reach his pantaloons, too bad but very exciting in all other ways.

Still kissing with passion, Elizabeth could feel him trying to get under her riding skirt, he was used to skirts of course, he would not manage to reach inside with the trouser legs making things rather tight. And she was wearing woollies, that wouldn't help since they reached down to her ankles and were a lot tighter still than her skirt legs.

But Fitzwilliam's blood was up, he changed tactics and managed to get the drawers down, together with the whole riding skirts, the stone of the window scratching her behind slightly. It didn't matter, this was so exciting! Judging by his next action he'd gotten inside his own pantaloons as well, for she was lifted off the window sill bodily by strong arms that held her legs and gently lowered her onto an almost explosive bliss. When her body rested on his stomach, her legs still supported by his arms, he increased the bliss again and again, until the whitewashed walls with their gaily painted scenes of ancient Roman life started to spin, and her gasps of ardour mingled with his rhythmic moans. The wind blew through the windows, of course the temple had no glazing, but they didn't feel the approaching rainstorm, they were lost in each other and in bliss.

All too soon it was over, Fitzwilliam clutching her slender shape against his much taller one, his face in her neck, his breathing fast and hoarse. He did not say anything, he just clung to her and kissed her with so much love that Elizabeth was glad this wasn't really ancient Rome, or their all-too-human gods would get jealous and strike the young couple with misfortune to punish their hubris.

Of course the horses were still tethered outside, and Fitzwilliam soon righted himself, setting his beloved back on her own two feet. Elizabeth righted her woollies and her riding skirts, then re-buttoned her blouse where it was so tight it had loosened over her breasts. The were indeed bulging a little over her corset, she might have to have Fanny loosen it tonight. Maybe she'd slowly gained weight in town, she hadn't worn this pair of riding skirts for months, if so she'd certainly lose it out here, riding and fishing and shooting. If not, she'd have to ask Jane what it felt like to be pregnant.

'Do you mind if your hair is a bit rumpled?'

Fitzwilliam certainly didn't, he looked amused and very, very happy. Elizabeth shook her head, seeing the escaped curls for herself.

'Let anyone who sees me think Barley gave me the exciting ride. There is no reporter in sight, and Mrs Reynolds will just have to get used to seeing me dishevelled.'

She kissed her beloved one more time, then reclaimed Barley's reins and mounted, looking down on her adoring husband. Who eventually closed his mouth, then mounted his own horse, turning him towards the house.

They had not walked their horses for more than a minute when they almost ran into Anne and Nick, who were rambling towards the Roman temple, not hand in hand but clearly in love. Still, the only staff to ever come here were Oliver, the huntsmaster, checking the place for signs of vermin, and the gardeners, to clear weeds. And neither did that more often than once every six months. Not at the end of winter anyway.

'Darcy, Elizabeth! I envy you to be riding like that! I'm glad we'll have our own riding skirts soon, I cannot way to try riding.'

Another five minutes and they would have been caught red-handed! Elizabeth looked at Fitzwilliam, who merely smiled with infatuation.

'Were you heading towards the temple?' he asked the ramblers.

'We were, but now we've run into you two I suppose we'd like to return to the house together, if you don't mind the company.'

Whatever Anne wanted to talk to them about, it originated in Nick, and he was having a hard time with Anne bringing it out in the open so suddenly. He dared not protest, though, not in front of Fitzwilliam. But Anne had chosen the perfect moment, Fitzwilliam was incredibly mellow after a long ride and a passionate one, whatever Nick wanted to tell him would be received with forbearance.

'No problem, let me dismount, I'll walk with you.'

Of course Elizabeth did the same, and they flanked the couple so the trailing horses wouldn't be in the way of hearing what Anne's beloved had to say. When he had their attention, he talked readily enough.

'You know I have this reputation of liking women.'

They nodded, of course.

'It's already spread, and I have pledged Mrs Reynolds and Mrs Eliot to behave. But one of the temporary maids approached me, wanting me to help her find a permanent position. She also told me of her sister, who apparently is very smart. I guess she is hoping for the girl to find a patron, to help her study to be a nurse. I thought I'd bring it to your attention, I suppose your people need nurses and midwives, too, and to send local people out to be educated might be a good way to provide them. Their father is one of your tenants.

I also asked the lady housekeepers to explain to the maid what misunderstandings might have resulted from her behaviour. A lot of men would just have taken what she offered, and left her to deal with the consequences. She didn't even really like me, she admired Simon.'

'You mean to say she offered you...herself, in exchange for helping her?'

'That is exactly what she did. I hope you won't lay her off for being naïve, for I truly think that is what she was.'

Her beloved nodded, contemplated for a few moments, then said, 'If you discussed this with Mrs Reynolds, I suppose she will handle that part adequately. I cannot interfere with her way to rule the staff. But I can indeed help the sister, if she really wants to improve herself. I shall have my steward examine her on her knowledge and talents, and if she is indeed willing and able to learn to care for others he will find her a place where she will be offered the opportunity.

It's kind of convenient to have eyes and ears in the back of the house, Fowler, it saves a lot of snooping around.'

And he described how he'd followed his London staff to catch them at their bullying.

'I cannot believe Bruce was one of the tormentors, sir, he is such a polite young fellow. I don't think he would do such a thing again.'

'In that case, he will be allowed to go back to his family in due time. If he has learned too much here to go back to being a lowly stable boy there, I suppose he'll get recommendations to improve himself, good stable boys are always in demand, and Hugo is the best teacher.'

Seeing Nick's fleeting expression of unbelief he asserted, 'He is much different here, you'll see.'

Elizabeth didn't think Nick would be subject to the difference, he was the kind of man that Hugo respected, his 'bad' reputation doing him a favour with the virile Frenchman.

'Well, sir, your stable hands are all hard-working, polite men, so I shouldn't have been surprised. Thank your for hearing me.'

'My pleasure, Fowler. You have made my cousin very happy, and you bear with your unequal treatment admirably. I'm glad you decided to come to me with this.'

Nick looked very pleased and acknowledged Fitzwilliam's polite address with a little bow, he was gaining refined manners so quickly, and charm he'd always had plenty.

Darcy would have liked to ask his cousin's lover to join him in some shooting practice, he seemed the type to appreciate weapons skills, and maybe he'd agree to teach Darcy some of his own fighting methods. They were of course not suitable for a gentleman, not at all, but who knew when they'd come in handy? It seemed Fowler was here to stay, so he might as well get to know the fellow a little better.

But frankly, Darcy didn't have a clue whether Fowler was free to just go where he liked. He was in Manners' service, and they were still very busy decorating their rooms on the second floor, maybe Fowler would be needed to help with the lifting. He didn't want to make trouble for the fellow, Manners seemed to like him a lot but he ruled his staff like a gentleman should. And there was an attic to search for Elizabeth and himself, shooting would have to wait.


	132. Chapter 132

Chapter 142

About an hour later they were walking towards the guard house hand in hand, they had cleaned up and changed, Elizabeth wearing an older dress but her rich fur-lined long coat over it.

'I don't want Mrs Brewer to think I don't respect her, Fitzwilliam,' Elizabeth had said, 'but attics are usually dusty, and there are nails and wood splinters sticking out, I don't want to risk spoiling my good dresses. Do you think she'll accept my wearing an older dress if I wear my best coat?'

Frankly, Darcy hardly knew Mrs Brewer, they lived on his estate but in their own little house near the entrance gates, where Wickham's father had lived before them. Nathan ran Darcy's estate when Darcy was away from home, as Mrs Reynolds ran the household, except for the household finances, which Mrs Reynolds handled but under Nathan's supervision. The steward only answered to Darcy himself, he was the most important member of his staff with the most responsibilities. Of course Mrs Reynolds ran the household even when Darcy was in residence, though he wouldn't be surprised if Elizabeth would soon take an interest there.

As they followed the lane towards the little house, he replied, 'I suppose she will understand, my love. Who would wear a good dress when they are about to get very dirty? It would have been more sensible to go in your riding skirts and clean up afterwards.'

The little house had a reasonably sized garden plot at the back, which was surrounded by a tall hedge with just the one entrance that looked as if it had grown into the thick evergreens. The opening was guarded by a curious fence that seemed rather out of place on his estate: it was as tall as a man and consisted of several intricately curved branches of some kind of fairy-tale tree, sprouting from the lower left and curling upwards, twisting across and through each other to form a latticework of intertwining branches. Elizabeth was as intrigued as himself, and they simultaneously reached out to feel what it was made of.

'It's iron, isn't it?'

He could not but agree, it felt cold to the touch and it was very solid, this had to be wrought-iron. A little knock confirmed their suspicion, as the fence made a ringing sound.

'It's beautiful, it looks just like wood, even the colour! Did you know it was here?'

He had never before seen that fence, or he'd have shown it to Elizabeth when she first arrived here. To him, the the guard house hadn't been worth any consideration, it was small, old, but not old enough to be interesting, and to be honest, not very comfortable. But Nathan had been glad to have it when Darcy'd had him recommended by Mr Eliot's predecessor when Wickham's father had died rather suddenly. That unfortunate man, after losing his wife to consumption and his son to debauchery his work had been his all, and when Darcy's father had died the life had just gone out of him. He'd taught Darcy all he knew, and then one winter he had caught pneumonia and before Darcy had heard of his illness, he'd died of it. He had attended the funeral, from a little distance at first, but when Wickham wasn't even there he had joined the rest of the attendants, Mrs Reynolds, some other members of the staff, a distant relative or two.

A small hand squeezed his, and he looked down on his lovely Elizabeth. Then, he had thought Wickham senior indulgent towards his Victoria, now he knew from personal experience how madly in love a man could be with his wife.

'I have to confess I haven't been to this place for years. It looks altogether different, somehow. I suppose they use this door to enter the yard, but I don't see how I could do that, my love. I feel obliged to use the front door, though it's probably stuck for lack of use.'

'I'm certain Mr Brewer will forgive you. He must have been glad to see you after so many months.'

'He was. He had done all the work to perfection, of course, but sometimes it is nice to get a little acknowledgement as well as a salary. Nathan is very important to me and an admirable man. Intelligent, kind, and with a sense of humour. Like his predecessor, the elder Mr Wickham. He always had a kind word and good advice. Maybe stewards are the true cream of mankind.

'So you were travelling memory lane just now, remembering a friend. I hope you are not feeling guilty anymore over having let down his son.'

'I do not, Wickham is where he belongs, even if it took him years to find that place. And I am glad to have helped him, out of respect for what his father did for me and my family. And who knows, maybe his father wasn't actually his father. Though I suppose the man who raises you will be your father forever.'

'I wouldn't know,' Elizabeth observed bluntly, 'I was never raised. My bad habits are all inherited, no possible doubt who my father is.'

No, there wasn't. Darcy did not hesitate to smile at Elizabeth's half-funny, half-serious remark, and replied, 'And still I cannot help loving you, and liking him. How afraid I was of his sarcasm. I wish my father had neglected my education and kept me around, I might have been there for my mother, and a lot happier myself. When we have a son, my love, please let us not send him to some cold, uncaring school during the most formative years of his youth. Let's just hire a superior tutor and raise him ourselves.'

'Or we could foster him with Anne and Frederick, I don't think Frederick will ever allow a child of his to suffer through school.'

'That is just the strangest idea, though I know they will have children eventually. But I suppose we'd better foster theirs then, they'll be wanting to go out a lot and we don't. Ah, we're here, I'm going to knock.'

And though Nathan did look a bit surprised to find someone at the front, the door did not so much as creak. And anything Darcy might have wanted to add to their talk was forgotten, as soon as they had entered the Brewers' quaint little house.

'Will you join us for tea?' his steward asked, 'Juliette has made her special pie. You've never been here before, Mr Darcy, I hope you'll like what we did with the house.'

He sounded a bit nervous, he was probably afraid Darcy would object to their décor, but he remembered the house as it used to be, like uncle Spencer's town house, at least ten years out of date. It had been small, cramped and as much a shrine to a beloved spouse as his uncle's much larger house still was. Now, it was still small, but it breathed life and intimacy, each wall was a different colour and there were works of craftsmanship, or was it art?, everywhere. Not traditional paintings and marble statues such as Elizabeth had described from Carlton House, but living, breathing objects made of wood, or other natural materials such as shells and stones. The furniture looked as if it had been grown on a tree instead of wrung into shape by a carpenter or crafter, the lines flowing and corners or sharp edges totally absent. Rugs and pillows and cushions abounded, the curtains were made of velvet but adorned with glass beads and bits of pearly shell, and there was a large harp standing in a corner. A large lamp was made in the same style as the fence outside, of wrought iron with panes of coloured glass filling the gaps, in a semblance of a bush or a tree with living branches.

Darcy would not want to live here but he knew somebody who'd love it.

'Georgiana would absolutely love this!' Elizabeth exclaimed.

Exactly. Georgie would love it, and Darcy guessed that some of the artwork was extremely good quality, way above Nathan's standard of living.

'Do you really think so, Mrs Darcy? Juliette made most of it. She's in the kitchen, fetching tea, she will be so delighted to finally meet you!'

Why hadn't he taken Elizabeth to meet Mrs Brewer before? They had visited Peter at home. Nathan hadn't invited them, if he had they would have gone, maybe he was afraid they'd disapprove?

'You wife can work iron?'

Now Nathan's pride showed.

'She has a little workshop in the back of the garden where she does that, yes. Just small things and very labour intensive, but I think it's beautiful.'

'It is, very much so, the gate, the lamp, it must have been so hard to fit those pieces of glass to the spaces exactly. Georgiana will love this, Mr Brewer, will you allow me to bring her over soon? Does she take commissions, your missus?'

'Rarely, it's so much work hardly anyone can afford a piece, but she does have to buy materials. Coloured glass and this quality iron don't come cheap. I'm glad you like it, Juliette was afraid you'd be angry that she'd made such a mark on your house, which is why she fled to the kitchen. She's very sensitive, I'm afraid.'

'So she made a special pie to soothe us if we'd reacted aversely?'

Elizabeth just couldn't help being perceptive. Nathan merely nodded.

'I am merely a bit jealous of her talent, Mr Brewer. But even if I had the talent, I most certainly don't have the patience, so maybe it's for the best your wife has both.'

Nathan laughed, obviously relieved. He turned around and said with humour, 'You can come out now, Juliette!'

Mrs Brewer looked different here from the times Darcy had seen her in church. Then, she'd been a bit matronly for her what he guessed were about thirty years of age, not coarse or fat, she could be called delicate, but rather conservative in her dress and hairdo. Which suggested to him that she'd have her maid keep a very clean house, throwing out everything that might gather a speck of dust, even in the attic. But now, Darcy started to think the matronly look was meant to hide her true person from the world, and there was absolutely no sign of a maid. It seemed Mrs Brewer did her own housekeeping.

Like her name, Juliette Brewer's appearance suggested she might be French. She was no taller than Elizabeth, and her hair was very dark, as were her eyes. She had long, dark lashes and refined facial features that could have been called beautiful if she'd had more bloom. But where Elizabeth had the smooth face and curves of a young woman, Mrs Brewer seemed a bit on the thin and delicate side, especially in the simple flowing dress she was wearing in the house. Her eyes shone with intelligence, but seemed a bit too bright, and her skin was so pale it was almost translucent. Darcy felt a bit worried, was Nathan's dearly beloved wife ill? He remembered the young woman on the dissection table, people in consumption looked like this. Why hadn't Nathan said something? They could send for that doctor from London, he knew so much about the wasting disease, maybe something could be done. But wait, if Mrs Brewer was severely ill she couldn't work, especially not with iron as she apparently did.

She set down a tray with tea things, among which four delicious-looking pieces of confectionery

'I'm pleased to meet you, Mr Darcy, Mrs Darcy. I've made some pie for you. I hope you don't mind my redecorating the house.'

She curtsied very low and sounded very guilty, but her husband was Darcy's most valuable employee, and she was obviously a very talented artist herself, no need for humility. Of course, Elizabeth reacted before Darcy could, and much more appropriately. She shook hands with their hostess and replied with enthusiasm.

'It's lovely, Mrs Brewer! The pie and the house, will you let me bring Mrs Fielding to see it? She will love your decorations.'

When Mrs Brewer's face looked slightly blank at the mention of the name, Elizabeth added, smiling, 'Miss Darcy, Mrs Brewer. She got married a few weeks ago.'

Elizabeth's familiar remarks had settled the lady artist, she did not look upset for having forgotten about Georgie's marriage.

'Of course, with the famous pianist! Congratulations! Of course she is welcome to visit, and Mr Fielding too. Do you really like it? It's so... unconventional.'

They had sat down on the fragile-looking furniture, which turned out very comfortable and sturdier than expected, and Mrs Brewer was pouring tea while chatting with Elizabeth. The tea was not their regular dark brand, of course, that was way beyond the Brewers' means, and Darcy hoped it would be drinkable. But when he lifted the cup to his lips and inhaled the fragrance of the hot tea, it wasn't regular tea at all: it was an infusion of herbs, and it smelled delicious. Elizabeth was as surprised, but apparently she thought it was Darcy's turn to say something nice. He took the smallest of tastes because it was still very hot, but he could truthfully say it was very nice tea.

'You are an artist with food and drink as well, Mrs Brewer! This tea is very good, sweet without sugar and yet very refreshing.'

'Thank you, Mr Darcy, I suppose you have drunk tea with some important people, your good opinion is very valuable.'

Well, she certainly got over her shyness quickly. Better try that pie, it looked very good. But first, a fitting reply.

'We have met quite a lot of important people lately, mostly because of my brother-in-law, Mr Fielding, who got invited to all kinds of places to play. But they generally didn't serve us tea and pie, they liked to surprise the famous Mr Fielding with wine and savoury dainties. The only one of us who has had the chance to taste the best on offer in pies is Elizabeth: she had dinner with the Prince of Wales in his own Carlton House.'

She did not even mind, but rather corrected him kindly, 'Actually, my love, he served the best confectionery in the afternoon, for tea, when Georgiana and Eric were there as well. But we did not actually get to taste his tea, there was hot chocolate, and the best wine I ever had. Potent, though.'

'You were at Carlton House, Mrs Darcy? What was it like, we've read so much about the stunning décor, I'd so love to see it.'

Elizabeth described the edible statues and flowers, and tried to convey what bergamot tasted like, and Madeira wine. And how the Prince had the richest rooms and the most beautiful paintings she'd ever seen.

'But frankly, Mrs Brewer, I like your style of decorating better, though it may be a bit much for a formal room. But now I'll stop talking and taste your pie, for it is as beautiful as some of the Prince's treats were, and I'm so curious whether it's as good.'

Darcy hoped it would be as good, or Mrs Brewer would be disappointed, though unlimited resources and French pastry chefs could hardly be eclipsed and she should realise it.

It was incredibly good, the pastry was flaky and not too moist, which was almost impossible with such thin pastry. The filling was creamy and tasted of fruit, but where would Mrs Brewer have gotten fruit at this time of the year? Darcy would have sworn he tasted peach!

'This is incredibly good, Mrs Brewer,' Elizabeth said. 'It's March, and yet your filling tastes as if there is fresh peach in it. And it's creamy but not heavy. I've tasted pie this good just once before, and it was not at Carlton House, that was all richer and stuffed with expensive, rare ingredients. It was at a London gentleman's house, and Anne said he'd gotten it from a public place called The Old Rookery. Thank you so much for making this for us, Mrs Brewer.'

Mrs Brewer was pleased with the praise.

'We have peaches in our garden, Mrs Darcy, I preserved some to make pie with. I'm glad you liked it, even if you liked the house even without the pie. I'd like to show you the garden and my workshop some day, but Nathan said there were some things you wanted to look for in our attic? I am certain there are two boxes with old stuff up there, I couldn't bring myself to throw away other people's lives, everyone said Mr Wickham had been such a kind man and so fond of his wife and his son. What if his boy were ever to come back and ask for memories of his father?'

Darcy did think she'd heard some of the rumours surrounding Wickham, the debts he'd left behind, the girls he'd broken promises to, but still the remembrance of the father was more important to her. She was a good woman, and she had sacrificed a precious jar of carefully preserved peaches for him and Elizabeth, and he would not forget that.

'Mr George Wickham is doing rather well at the moment, Mrs Brewer,' Elizabeth said, as if to explain why they were asking for what was in fact his due.

'He is a Lieutenant in the Rifle Core, and married to my youngest sister. They have their first child coming. I will let them know about his father's boxes, and if he wants them returned we will see what we can do, my sister may visit this summer.'

Elizabeth had not been hurt when he'd told her about Lydia being with child again, and she wasn't now, Lydia had been so distraught over the loss of her first baby, and Wickham would most likely be sent abroad before it was born. There was no way Elizabeth could envy her sister for getting with child again before she did herself. But Mrs Brewer did show some pain, now he thought of it she didn't have any children either, and she was a lot older than Elizabeth and had been married for at least three years. Darcy had never realised this difficulty in his steward's marriage, and he was not pleased with himself for failing to see Nathan's grief over it. He had just envied his steward's unconditional love for his lady, and never even considered they might not be perfectly happy.

Nathan covered up his wife's moment of sadness by getting up and addressing the two of them.

'Shall I lead you to the attic? I have a lamp filled and ready, sir, you can do whatever you like with those boxes.'

The attic was in proportion to the house, of course, and as dusty as any of his own. The steward led them to the back of the space, where he removed several items before pointing out two medium sized boxes, lids closed, unmarked and dusty.

'Do you have a place where we can unpack them, Nathan? To see what's inside?'

'Of course, sir, you can use my little study. The light is much better in there.'

As they each lifted one of the boxes while Elizabeth held the lamp, Nathan said quietly, 'Juliette will be very relieved that you didn't mind her way of doing up the house, sir, ma'am. She was so nervous. Life tends to get her down a lot, she suffers anxiety over things other people just ignore. I try to tell her it isn't all that bad, but that doesn't seem to help very much. Only working on her art gives her relief, and she was terrified with the thought of being forbidden to practise it on your grounds.'

By now they had reached the study, a neat little place with a very serviceable desk, and as Nathan put down the box he was carrying, Elizabeth laid a hand on his shoulder and asked with more than a little worry, 'Is that why she is so thin, Mr Brewer? Is there anything we can do to help, maybe have a doctor check her out? I've recently met a really good one in London.'

'We couldn't afford a London practitioner, ma'am, and Juliette refuses to have a local man, says they're all quacks and they'd start everyone gossiping. She prefers to just move on and pretend everything is fine. It's why she doesn't want a maid, or a cook, says she likes keeping her own house, and she does. We're doing quite well together, it's just that she really wanted a family, and there is not much hope of that now.

I'm sorry, I talk too much. It's just so hard to see her like this, and I thought you might have noticed and might want an explanation.'

Now Darcy spoke up, at his most earnest.

'Nathan, you are my single most important help, I could never do without you. I want both you and your wife as happy as I can help you become. If Juliette agrees to see this doctor, I can have him come over, or you could take a nice little trip to London, with my carriage, at my expense, to see him there. You can stay in the house, it's a good opportunity to meet Mrs Annesley and check the finances there. Let the stable boy drive you around, he needs the experience, visit a show, do some shopping. Enjoy yourselves, take a break. I'm here, my sister is here, we'll take care of everything for a few weeks.'

He knew Darcy could afford it, and the temptation was huge.

'Thank you, Mr Darcy, I'll talk it over with Juliette. I think it might do her some good, she's always in the house, with her projects. I'd better go see her, will you let me know when you're done here?'

'Just convince her to go to town with you, Nathan, she'll love it. No-one knows her there, she can just be herself. And yes, we'll let you know. Thank you, Nathan.'

Darcy started to unpack the first box, taking care not to spread the dust all over the room. Inside, it was relatively clean, and it was filled with stacks of papers and letters.

'Just what we hoped for, my love, lots of letters!' Elizabeth exclaimed, and they eagerly set to work to see whether any were his wife's. But after reading about half of them they started to realise that their expectations had been too high, for there was as yet not a single personal letter in the stack: most of the paperwork was just that, ledgers of Mr Wickham's daily business, the number of calves born and sold on every single farm in Darcy's ownership, the prices of potatoes for every single day of a whole year. Mr Wickham had undoubtedly used these to make the best decisions for Darcy's estate, or maybe even for his father's estate, but they were not what they had hoped for. The letters proved letters of business, to grain factors, mill owners, sellers of seeds, such a big disappointment.

The second box contained similar papers, and Darcy wondered how they had come to be stored instead of thrown out. Disappointed, they placed the stacks of papers back inside the boxes, and Darcy went out to find Nathan. He didn't have to go far before he ran into his steward, who asked, 'And, sir, did you find what you were looking for?'

'Actually, no, it was a great disappointment, just old ledgers and letters of business. We'd hoped to find some letters of a more private nature.'

Now Nathan seemed struck by something, and positively thoughtful. At length, he spoke.

'If you don't mind my asking, sir, would those letters be the kind one would like to keep to oneself?'

'Yes, actually. You think we're looking in the wrong place?'

'Well, sir, as it happens, about a year ago we were working on one of the smaller rooms upstairs and had it stripped, and I saw something out of the ordinary. Nothing very grand, it just struck me that a few floor boards were loose as if they'd been used as a cache or hiding place of some sort. I planned to explore, but then something happened and I forgot. Do you want me to show you?'

A secret space underneath the floor boards? That was just perfect!

'We'd love to, it's exactly where one would expect to find the kind of letters we're looking for. Do you know which room it was?'

'It was a small room connected to the master bedroom, let us fetch Mrs Darcy and we'll go look.'

Something in Nathan's demeanour told Darcy that what had happened had given both him and his lovely wife a blow, and he was not looking forward to going back to that room.

'Do you want us to do that by ourselves, Nathan?'

His steward's expression became positively sad, then he shook his head and observed, 'No, sir, you'd never find it. Besides, it's been a year, I'll have to face it some day, and the room will need an explanation or you'll be upset. Mrs Darcy will be at the very least, I'm sure.'

Suddenly, Darcy had an idea what they would find in that little room, and indeed it would disconcert Elizabeth. But she was strong and positive, and if there was a chance to find private letters from his father to Victoria Wickham she would face her own fears.

He did not get the chance to warn his beloved, it would have been painful to Nathan and he was suffering enough if Darcy was right what had happened almost a year ago. Instead, he took her hand as they crossed the Brewers' bedroom, another fanciful place filled with beautiful ornaments and sculpted faerie creatures. As Nathan opened the door at the end of the room, he turned around and faced the two of them.

'I haven't set foot in this room for almost a year, though we didn't tell a soul I suppose you will understand immediately. It has been very painful for Juliette, and for myself.'

He went in quickly, and disappeared under a beautifully wrought cradle with little white hangings of a frilly material. Darcy he had to swallow hugely. Not these good people, too!

The tiny little room was a mother's dream in virgin white, with lace curtains and a tiny cradle made of fancy iron work in Mrs Brewer's own style, with plant-like curls and creepers and beautifully pleated hangings of the sheerest white muslin. Elizabeth felt her eyes burn for poor Mrs Brewer, and yes, for Mr Brewer, too. The floor boards were painted white, and on the icy-pale blue rug beneath the little crib, he kneeled and folded back the rug to expose several short boards that were obviously loose from the rest of the floor. He had some trouble removing them, and his voice sounded wrung as he remarked, 'I never got around to opening it, it may be empty. Or it may contain nothing more than a stocking filled with gold.'

Such heartbreak this couple must have gone through, how many babies didn't get to live? Elizabeth had never considered that before Lydia. Mrs Brewer's paleness and dedication to her work were suddenly so much easier to understand. She did not know what to say, what could she say to someone she didn't know at all? It had seemed to come to her naturally when she visited Lydia, but Lydia was her little sister and she had known her all her life.

'Got it!' Mr Brewer exclaimed in triumph, despite the whole situation, setting aside the boards and feeling around in something that appeared to be quite a sizeable empty space. Then he retrieved a thick bundle of envelopes, held together with a pink ribbon that was secured with a pretty bow.

'Is this what you were looking for?' he asked, now more in the mood of the hunt rather than gripped by grief. He handed them to Fitzwilliam, who checked the address.

'I think it is, Nathan. Will you tell us about it, or is it still too painful?'

After replacing the boards carefully and smoothing the rug over them, Mr Brewer got up, back to reality.

'It is painful, but maybe talking about it will help. You went to Newcastle to support your sister in a similar situation, didn't you, Mrs Darcy?'

'I did, and it was heart breaking. My sister never was a very serious girl, Mr Brewer, but she really hurt. I feel so much for you and Mrs Brewer.'

'We had been trying to have a baby since we got married, and it took very long. Juliette was so incredibly happy, she started on this room right away, and I helped gladly. Then before we were ready to tell anyone, she started to bleed and the baby was lost. She has been inconsolable ever since, I don't know what to do anymore. She didn't want anyone to know, but I'm starting to think that was the wrong decision, Mrs Reynolds would never gossip, nor would Mr Eliot. If only she'd be able to talk to anyone.'

'My sister finally talked to the army minister, Mr Brewer, and his understanding did so much good. Please do find help, Mr Eliot is as understanding as Mr Blaze at the camp, I'm certain she would feel better right away.'

'If only she could have another baby, but it's been almost a year...'

'Will you think about my offer, Nathan?' Fitzwilliam said sincerely. 'I could arrange for you to leave in a week's time, we'll have most of the spring work done by then and you can be free to spend two weeks away from home. Visit a doctor, see new things.'

'Thank you so much, sir, I will ask Juliette. She is not fond of crowds, but she knows everyone here, maybe it will be a relief to be among strangers for a while.'

'What do you want me to do with those boxes, Mr Darcy?'

'I'm afraid they can be thrown out, Nathan, there was nothing of any value in them. Just old stuff from the estate. I'd like to take these letters, though.'

'Of course, sir, and once again, thank you so much!'

'Shall we take out leave from Mrs Brewer, or do you think she prefers if we don't?'

'I suppose she's left the house already, ma'am, she always goes to her workshop when she's anxious. Will you please forgive her? She has been through a lot.'

'There is nothing to forgive, Mr Brewer, your wife has treated us to a superior piece of pie, and frankly, if she saw me now she'd know we know, and she would not like that. Better you talk to her first. The best of luck, Mr Brewer.'

'Thank you Mrs Darcy, you understand Juliette.'

And without further ado they left, through the side door and the beautiful gate. Elizabeth had time for one good look at the garden, and it promised to be a magnificent experience when she'd take Georgiana over to see the house and garden. If Mrs Brewer didn't change her mind, now Elizabeth had found out about her unlucky pregnancy.

They walked back to the house in silence, Fitzwilliam busy removing the ribbon from the letters. He then handed her one, kept one himself and stuck the rest of the little stack in his coat pocket. The address was written in a firm, masculine hand, and the name was Mrs Victoria Wickham.

Taking out the paper, she recognised the same hand, and she quickly checked the adieu. It said: Yours truly, Richard Darcy.

This was it, the proof that Fitzwilliam's father and Wickham's mother had been intimate, although Elizabeth hadn't really doubted that. She merely doubted that a child had come from their association.

'So that's it, my love, uncle Spencer was right. My father did indeed have an affair. I feel sorry for my mother, how she must have felt the hurt and humiliation, and with someone she knew and liked. I suppose it went on for years and years, and all this time mother was struggling with her health. I never had the slightest suspicion, I worshipped my father.'

'Let's read them in the bedroom. I feel guilty for putting you through this, I want to hold you whenever you need it without having to think of propriety.'

He did not reply, he merely took her hand and led her up the stairs to their room, where they removed their coats and sat down on the bed.

'Shall we each read a few, then exchange them? Or do you want to read all of them out loud, so we can discuss them straight away?'

'Let's do that, we're not in a hurry, are we? I want to share this with you, I have never known any of the people involved, I'd feel like an intruder reading their communication.'

'True, I can imagine that. Shall I start? Do we need to find the oldest one first?'

That seemed like a sensible thing to do, and checking the headings of the letters they discovered all had been written from London. The earliest letter they found was dated about six months after Darcy's birth, and was shocking in its tenderness. Of course Mr Richard Darcy had the reputation of being a kind and warm-hearted man, who did much good for his tenants, and had the affection in this letter benefited his wife all would have been well. But it was not, this letter had been written to another man's wife, and at least two people had suffered for their forbidden love, Elizabeth knew Fitzwilliam's mother had had her suspicions, and she could hardly imagine Wickham's father hadn't.

My very dear Victoria,

I have finally found a way to write to you that is perfectly safe. This letter was handed to you personally by my huntsmaster, who lives in one of my cottages off the main road just past the church. If you leave your reply in the Roman temple behind the statue of Mercury he will make certain it reaches me here. Do not worry, his silence is assured. Burn this letter once you have read it, my love, it's just paper and ink. Our love is what matters and leaving behind proof can only destroy it.

Though his voice sounded as articulate as ever while he read that, Fitzwilliam had to stop to take a deep breath after the introduction. This was worse than anything they could have imagined, their affair sounded so deep and so very calculated!

'Can you go on? I'm afraid it's too much for me already, and I have a feeling it will get worse. 'My very dear Victoria'! When did it start? Even before he married my mother?'

'Did he know her before? Do you know where she came from? Was she married to Mr Wickham before he became your father's steward?'

'I suppose they couldn't have, as far as I have heard Mr Wickham was married just after I was born, and Mr Wickham had been working for my father for several years before that. I don't how many years exactly, and I don't know how the Wickhams met. She was not a local woman, I think, she dressed differently, she was much younger than her husband, and he spent a lot of money on her, more than he probably should have. I always thought she looked like one the ladies of fashion from London, like the ones who read about you in the papers last season.'

'Shall I read on? Can you bear it?'

He squeezed her hand and smiled.

'It all happened years ago, everyone involved is dead. There is nothing we can change. I feel I ought to know what my father was really like. Maybe everyone hereabouts knows, except me, that would make me a laughing stock. I prefer to face the facts, dear Elizabeth, however harsh they may be.'

She nodded and read on.

I was so sorry to have to leave you, but my obligations in town did not allow me to stay at Pemberley. Much as I would have preferred to, with you finally settled nearby, and Anne still so weak and my strapping baby boy finally here. After four years, and with Anne always laid up with something, who would have thought I'd have such a beautiful, strong heir? I am certain you worked some of your magic on her while you cared for her in London. You will keep taking care of them, won't you? Anne has been a good wife to me, she loves me so much, she cannot help lacking spirit and something interesting to say. I thought she might improve away from her sister, but she never gained any liveliness to speak of. Poor thing. She is no threat to you, as Wickham is no threat to me. I hope he treats you well, but you may rest assured I would not have introduced you to him if I'd had any doubts on that score. No other man will love you as well as he does, and he is not the kind to refuse you anything. Even if we're separated for a few months, it's much better for you to live in peace in the countryside than to slave away in town for those who don't care.

He set up his steward with his mistress so she could live close to him? That couldn't be true!

If Anne's sister visits, do not draw attention upon yourself! You can help Anne with the baby, and console her afterwards for Catherine's visits always tire her out, but if you cannot take Catherine's insolence better be out of sight while she is there. I plead you to mind my warnings, if anyone can cause us grief it is Catherine. Anne knows she is imposed upon by her harpy sister, but she could never resist her. You could, I know, but you should not. It's just too dangerous to what we have built up together, we have too much to lose.

The letter went on to resemble a true love-letter, heaping praise and endearments on Victoria Wickham, and poor Fitzwilliam was almost numb, it seemed. But when that one was finished, he said, 'Will you read the next one as well?'

It was dated three months after the first, in November.

My dearly beloved,

I'm sorry I didn't write before now, we've been very busy with a young child underfoot. I find I'm glad to have Anne and our little boy over, he is such a joy, even when he cries I'm glad his lungs are strong and healthy.

I'm also glad to hear that Wickham is treating you well, I always thought he had a very large heart, and I know he is very happy to have you as his wife, because he told me. Of course you must give him what is his due as your lawful husband, all men have appetites, even the most loving ones. I do realise your sacrifice, my dear, but marrying him was the only way we could be together regularly, and I feel much relieved to have you taken care of by someone I trust.

Since the season is just getting started here, and Anne is up to some engagements these days, I think our stay in London may be of some duration. I will try to write as often as I can, please be very careful that Wickham doesn't catch you taking your letters to the temple, and make sure you burn them to ashes, not leaving even the slightest decipherable remains.

Well, one thing was certain, they were not going to find letters from Victoria Wickham to Richard Darcy, they had been burnt, the ashes scattered in the winds. The rest of this letter contained the same loving phrases that had undoubtedly convinced the young London nurse to marry a man she didn't know and didn't love to be close to the man she did love. A gentleman, married to a lady of an esteemed family, who was enjoying himself in London with his wife and baby, while his mistress was left behind in the country to please a man who at least loved her sincerely.

'Georgie needs to read them as well, doesn't she?'

Her beloved's voice was flat, he'd been shocked beyond his ability to actually feel it anymore, and she took some time to kiss him and embrace him lovingly. Poor Fitzwilliam, this was getting worse and worse, and he had never seen anything amiss.

'I think so, yes. But please keep in mind that she never knew her father all that well, he was kind but they never had the special bond you had. It won't be as hard on her to find out that her father was seeing another woman.'

'You may be right. I hope you're right. Please go on, let's have it over with, he didn't even have the decency to treat her right.'

He didn't. Fortunately Mr Wickham had done that, even if he hadn't been the man Victoria Wickham really wanted, and even if she had treated him miserably. The next three letters were spread over a whole year and contained a lot of flattery, but also seemed to show a further lack of feeling in Fitzwilliam's father. He would describe how pleasantly he was engaged with his wife and son in London, something that could only have been painful to his mistress. But still her epistles couldn't have been accusing or depressing, for by now she was with child herself, and from Richard Darcy's sincere congratulations and inquiries after her health she seemed pleased to be expecting. The next years saw the number of letters dropping, and apparently Fitzwilliam's mother's condition had worsened, forcing her to stay in the country all the time. Again, Richard Darcy entreated his dear Victoria to take good care of his wife, even if by now she had a small child herself.

He no longer urged her to burn the letters, or to be cautious while writing or delivering them, he probably thought their arrangement worked perfectly well and would continue to do so, though their finding them proved nothing could stay hidden forever. So far, there hadn't been allusions that George Wickham might have been Richard Darcy's son, but it was more than clear that they had been sleeping with each other at the time of his conception, which made it not unlikely at all.

Elizabeth opened the last letter of the lot, with a date four years later than the previous seven. When she looked at her beloved he seemed steady enough to bear one more, how many unpleasant revelations could follow? His father had committed every imaginable sin already. Why write again after four years? Besides, they still saw each other often, Richard Darcy spent quite a lot of his time at Pemberley, and someone, had it been Anne, or the Earl? had remembered the Wickham family sometimes joining the adults in the evening.

'Can you handle this last one, my love? This cannot be easy on you, you will let me be there for you when you tell Georgiana, won't you?'

'It's not that bad, Elizabeth, truly, I kind of expected something like this, I can handle it. Please just read on and have it over with?'

She nodded and started to read.

Dear Victoria,

didn't I tell you to burn those letters? I told you to be careful, and now you tell me my letters have been stolen from your room? How do you know they were stolen, that you weren't just careless and left them lying about for someone to find? Wickham may have found them! Or the maid! You should have burned them as I said, now we may be in deep trouble.

To be safe I will find a different way to send you news, I think my huntsman is getting tired of our never-ending flow of letters, but do listen to me and burn them afterwards, my dearest! It is of great importance that you do, for I think Anne has talked to her sister when Catherine was here just after tragedy struck. Or maybe she was delirious, as you know she did have a fever for a few days. And her brother Earl Compton also seemed restrained, I think they suspect, so be on your guard and get rid of any of my letters you still have. And stay out of their way when they visit.

That said, I hope this letter finds you in good health and spirits, and I beg you to write to me soon and tell me whether Anne is telling me the truth when she says she is doing well. She was not when I left, and I'm afraid she is putting a brave face on our tragedy. Of course one expects a mother to grieve when she loses a child, even a newborn babe, but the labour had left her so weak and frail, I do worry. She so wanted a little girl, but it was just not meant to be. Would that I could have stayed with both of you, but there are some things that have to be done in town and I have to do them myself. Don't be foolish now and imagine me with another woman, you know I love only you and have loved only you from the moment we met. Why would I want to be with some cheap London tart if I can get back to you as soon as my business here is finished?

And please, my love, do not argue with your husband that he wants to send George to school. If you want your son to be someone, he needs to go to school. I know he is still very young and a bit small and shy, but there is no other way. He'll toughen up quickly, and besides, it'll be at least a year before he'll be old enough. Don't worry about the cost, I'm good for it, it's the least I can do for little George, he is such a delightful boy. You just try to enjoy yourself over there and maybe I can persuade Wickham to let you join me for a few days this winter. Maybe he'll understand that some people do like society.

Another few pages of endearments proved their love hadn't changed any, those missing letters had been written and sent and read, but they had disappeared. Maybe Fitzwilliam's mother took them, or Mr Wickham. Elizabeth was a bit disappointed not to have found real proof of Wickham's parentage, so many awful details uncovered, but the real question was still unanswered. Maybe those missing letters held the key, but how would they find out where those were? Maybe they should go to that old huntsmaster, it couldn't have been Oliver for he was too young to have worked for Fitzwilliam's father.

She did wonder how much suffering was hidden under most people's relatively normal lives. Mrs Hurst had no children, had she lost a child like so many others apparently had? And was Jane in danger, or, God forbid, Lydia's new baby?

'Well, that's it,' Fitzwilliam observed, 'more details than I ever wanted to know about my father's life and miserable character, and not a line of evidence. Too bad. I guess we'll have to search the house then.'

That was quite a task, it was just huge, and who knew where there would be loose boards or hidden drawers? But Earl Compton was going to search his sister's old room at his estate as well, maybe he would find something. And Richard Darcy did mention Lady Catherine a lot, she might know something. But who was going to ask her?


	133. Chapter 133

Chapter 143

For Frederick, their first week at Pemberley passed by quickly, with Elizabeth and Darcy out on their own most of the time, and the six of them making themselves comfortable on the second floor. Sharing a room with Simon was an unimaginable luxury, and spending whole days together was everything they had hoped for. The constant frustration of being separated between servants' hall and front of the house was nearly forgotten, especially since they often dined together on the second floor, Elizabeth and Darcy visiting in their own house. Nick and Simon would assist the Pemberley staff fetching and carrying everything up two flights of stairs, and when the regular staff had been dismissed they sat down at the table and joined the revelry.

Dining together had made them grow even closer, and Simon and even Nick were now totally at ease using three sets of cutlery and two kinds of crystal glasses. They had learned to taste wine and to cut joints, and eat shellfish without making a mess. Whenever one of the others, generally Darcy, himself or Anne, thought of something a gentleman or lady should be able to eat or drink or talk about or do otherwise, they taught it to whoever didn't know. While Elizabeth sometimes admitted she'd never heard of some dish or obscure ritual, and Eric's education had a few holes in it, Georgiana usually remembered things from her early youth but had been too young to actually sit in on truly formal dinners when their parents had both still been alive. Nick had the most to learn but he did so very quickly, and he knew things the others could profit by, especially the art of self defence.

Of course it was more like dirty fighting in Nick's case, but they all had to admit it was more effective than the boxing or wrestling Darcy and Frederick had competed in at school. Eric was really too slight and sweet-tempered to put his heart in it, but Simon had been a London street kid at one time, and he knew how to fend off an attacker. Soon, he knew enough to escape a bad brawl or an outright attack and safely make a run for it. Eric would slowly try to learn the same, and so would Georgiana and Anne. They refused to stand by helplessly, and though Frederick thought they would be perfectly safe with him and Nick about, Eric and Simon would be, too, and yet they were learning. So the ladies were shown how to hit the right vulnerabilities, and eventually Darcy asked to be included in the lessons.

He did very well, and whilst Frederick and Nick were way ahead because of their superior natural strength, Darcy did have the right mindset. In a few months he would give Frederick stiff competition, and Nick confessed himself impressed.

'You fight like a demon, Mr Darcy, I hope I will do as well leaning to ride and shoot as you do fighting dirty.'

Having him as a teacher gave Darcy respect for Nick, and the latter's superior technique and insight into his opponent's way of thinking made it virtually impossible to beat him in a match. Yet Darcy kept trying, and it was clear he might one day succeed in subduing Nick. Once or twice, maybe.

Of course Frederick still had an estate to run, even from a distance, and his business with Mr Blackwood was blooming. Which enabled him to show Simon how to run a business, and if the others were as interested he was not surprised: Anne and Georgiana had their own fortunes, and Frederick would certainly see to it that Nick would have a small independence, too.

And Frederick had other arrangements to make: those which would enable him to marry Miss de Bourgh. The licence was in their possession, Mr Eliot was eager to perform the ceremony, and Anne and Simon would decide on the bride and groom's clothes.

'Do you want me to mention your wedding to Mr Goodfellow, Frederick?' Eric had asked, and Anne had replied for him, as was fitting since they were going to be husband and wife soon.

'If you would after the ceremony? I'm a bit afraid some reporters might turn up after all. I do want them all to know we're married, but after the fact. Maybe we can send him a little snippet to publish? As if he had been here in person?'

Another one of Anne's magnificent ideas!

'Do you want a special dress, Anne?' Georgiana asked.

Anne, more beautiful than ever with a slight blush, admitted, 'I'd like to get married in one of those riding skirts.'

No averse reaction followed.

'Is that what you were talking about with the seamstress? I did wonder.'

'Yes, Elizabeth, I asked her to think of making a sort of merge between fashion and riding skirt. I cannot wait to see what she comes up with, she had some really good ideas. Do you think Mr Eliot would mind? My not wearing a dress, I mean?'

'It's our wedding, Anne, and you will wear what pleases you,' Frederick stated. What a strange idea, to get married in riding gear. But why not? It would look great on her, especially if she wore one of those intricate blouses with it and some jewellery. Simon would love it.

'If you get married in riding gear, can I do the same? Though I suppose Simon would kill me, if he could.'

'Let's ask him, and Nick. They'll be sitting in the first row, they have to agree.'

'As long as there are no reporters present to blame me for botching your toilette, I don't care if you walk into that church naked.'

Simon's opinion on Frederick wearing hunting gear to his wedding was very clear.

'Actually, I'd prefer that last, you know I love to see you without a stitch.'

That was sweet.

'But seriously, I appreciate your efforts to make less of the wedding. I'm not looking forward to it, you know.'

'I do know, Simon, and I feel horrible about it.'

'I really want to wear a riding skirt, not to make less of the wedding, but because I think they're beautiful.'

Anne was deadly serious, and Simon hugged her.

'I know, Anne, and you will look lovely in it. You look lovely in everything. It's Frederick I'm worried for, I dislike hunting gear, it's so shapeless.'

'You'll find out its use when you start riding yourself, Simon. Never mind, my love, I need every advantage I can get standing beside the most beautiful woman in England, even in a tiny little church in front of the people I love best. You may choose whatever you want me to wear, my body is all yours anyway.'

Now why did that make Simon look all soft again?

As Darcy had arranged for Elizabeth to have a beautiful new hunter waiting, so Frederick had used his time in London well, writing his own stable master to find him three fine horses. His search was easier since he didn't look for the impossible, a tractable hunter, he merely wanted solid, dependable riding horses, preferably waiting for their new owners at Pemberley when they arrived.

That hadn't worked out, but while they were all busy perfecting the decoration of their rooms, Frederick's presents had arrived, and one beautiful morning, five of the six would-be-explorers were waiting for their first riding lesson, ladies with Mrs Norman, gentlemen with her husband Peter.

'It's decidedly more comfortable for Peter to not have to explain certain basics to ladies,' Elizabeth had said, 'he felt very embarrassed to touch me to show me the right way to sit a horse, and to mention certain body parts I had to use to direct the horse. It will be much easier on him if he can concentrate on the men, and Mrs Norman on the ladies. Let me assure you, she doesn't hesitate to mention those parts, not at all.'

Which seemed reasonable, though Peter didn't know Simon's aberration. Still, Peter touching his thigh or his lower back wouldn't do anything to Simon but help him to learn to ride, and what Peter didn't know couldn't harm him. Or Simon. Thanks to Frederick's stable master, everyone had his own horse, Georgiana having inherited Elizabeth's faithful Daisy, Eric using one of Darcy's more placid road horses, and Anne, Nick and Simon on the mounts Frederick had provided.

Elizabeth and Darcy had joined the ladies in one of the new paddocks, Frederick couldn't help himself, he had to see how Simon was going to experience his first time on a horse. But when he had helped him check his saddle while Peter showed first Eric, then Nick, how to do exactly that, Simon proved once again to be the more sensible one in their relationship.

Frederick had shown how the bridle should fit, and bending down to point out which cinches to always check before mounting he was stunned to find himself the recipient of a passionate kiss, safely hidden behind the large chestnut mare.

'That was because I love you more than anything. Now leave, Frederick, go watch your fiancée, send Darcy over to help here if you feel Peter needs assistance. I love it when you show your feelings for me, but not here, it's dangerous.'

Wiping the bemused expression of his face, again, Simon was so right!, Frederick straightened himself and admitted, 'You are right Simon, Anne may need my support more than you and Nick do. I'll come and look in on you later.'

But before he turned towards the other paddock he waited to see Simon mount his very own horse, and ride the first of many circles under the expert guidance of Peter the stable boy.

When he arrived at the other paddock, Anne was already mounted and riding her own circles in a steady walk. Mrs Norman indeed walked beside her, correcting her seat and the position of her hands, where necessary by touching Anne in places that would have been very awkward for a man, let alone a lowly servant, to even think of. Anne did what the expert horsewoman advised, and Frederick could see the improvement in Anne, but also in the way the horse held itself. Maybe he should have that lady look at his own riding as well, Elizabeth and Darcy were outstanding riders and they had learned from her and her husband.

Elizabeth was walking along with Georgiana, who had the magnificent posture in the saddle that one would expect from a pianist, but who clearly had trouble adjusting to being at the mercy of the horse. That was just her feeling, for Daisy was truly goodness itself, she would never do anything rash or dangerous. But with Elizabeth's help, Georgiana slowly relaxed, and as Anne rode circles and eights with visibly improving confidence and skill, Mrs Norman did the same for Georgiana as she had done for Anne.

'Aren't you watching the others, Frederick?' Elizabeth asked with innuendo.

'I was asked to leave, not by the instructor but by one of the pupils. He was afraid I'd wear him out by staring at him. He was right, I should be with my fiancée anyway. She is doing really well, maybe one of you can go to the other paddock to help out there? I feel like joining one of these groups, I think there is a lot for me to learn here.'

'I'll go, I think I can help Peter, I've had so many lessons. You stay here and support Georgiana, Elizabeth. I think she is used to being in control, she seems a little nervous sitting on such a large beast, like you were before you discovered riding astride. Though you got over your fears soon enough.'

'And so will she. Look, she's sitting much more relaxed already now Sarah has explained some things. You go and help out, three novices is a bit much for one man to handle. And Frederick, I suppose you can join my lessons, I agree there is always something more one can learn, but you're not a novice.'

Darcy left for the other paddock, and Elizabeth supported whichever of the ladies was not attended to by Mrs Norman. Frederick sat on the fence and watched at his leisure, surprised how quickly he got used to seeing all ladies in his immediate circle wearing riding skirts. They did look nice, the seamstress had made some changes to Mrs Norman's basic model to make them more flowing, though less sturdy, which didn't matter for Anne and Georgiana since they could afford to buy new ones whenever these wore out. The good lady had looked slightly scandalized when Anne had asked her for another pair to be wed in, but she had delivered the most beautiful pair so far, of silvered green silk, unsuitable to ride in but almost as elegant and as flowing as Miss Filliger's dresses, to be worn with a blouse that would have turned every London rich girl green with envy, made of the lightest, clingiest muslin, totally unsuitable to do anything useful in, of course, but perfect for a wedding. Dora's eyes had sparkled when Anne tried it on, she was doing reasonably well coping with her disappointment over Nick, but Frederick suspected she was secretly relishing his presence whenever Nick was helping her to improve her reading and writing. They had written a letter to someone called Frank, a servant at Rosings who according to Nick admired Dora, and Dora was anxiously awaiting his reply. Frederick hoped it would be positive, there was no better cure for love sickness than a new love.

And tomorrow, Dora would have at least two hours with her beloved mistress, to dress her and make up her hair and face for the wedding that afternoon. It would be a very intimate affair, and way too quiet for Frederick's reputation, but that meant Simon and Nick could be in the front row instead of somewhere else entirely.

Mrs Norman was now helping both ladies to set their horses into a trot, and even Georgiana managed admirably. It seemed as if she had conquered her fear, or maybe she had discovered Daisy actually minded her, and she followed Anne and her grey mare at about a horse length, trotting circles and changing directions at Mrs Norman's instructions.

Now Frederick could no longer help himself, he had to see how the men were doing, and he excused himself to Elizabeth, who decided to join him instead. So they walked off together towards the other paddock, where the men, of course, were already cantering. They all seemed equally adept, if anyone had had the same troubles as Georgiana it didn't show now. To avoid betraying his admiration for Simon, Frederick decided to just not look at him too often, he just couldn't help it, his beloved was so handsome and so good at everything he did, who could have remained untouched by the sight of someone so perfect?

Soon enough, Peter let the three men slow their horses to walk them dry, after which they all got together to talk about the experience, while Peter, Bob, Bruce and Hugo unsaddled the horses and took them to their paddocks.

After an exhilarating first ride, Anne just knew this would be her favourite form of exercise. It had been such an incredible surprise from Frederick to have her own horse from the start! Of course she had been planning to buy herself her own horse if she liked riding as much as she remembered from her holidays with her cousins, but she had expected to share Daisy with Georgiana until she knew whether she really liked riding, and if she did until a suitable horse could be found. Now, she and Georgiana could have their lessons together, and in a few days they could all go out onto Darcy's grounds in a large group of riders, everyone on their own horse.

As the stable staff took over the reins of her horse, Anne made certain to find Frederick first and thank him for his magnificent gift. She embraced him with true feeling and said, 'Thank you so much, Frederick! She is a wonderful animal, so beautiful and so gentle! I want to call her Peppermint, I think it's a fabulous idea to call a horse for sweets. We'll call her Pepper for short.'

Frederick hugged her back with obvious pleasure, and humour.

'Aren't you afraid she'll live up to her short name, then?'

'I think I can handle a little spice in a mount, what do you think? You were watching me ride for the first time in years.'

'I think you have a natural talent, Anne. Weren't you afraid at all?'

'I loved it. Maybe my days as a tomboy are coming back to me, I cannot wait to go faster.'

'And I cannot wait to go out together. I'm glad you are pleased with Pepper. Can I see you for a moment in private Anne? After we've talked of horses a little more?'

'Sure. Thank you again, my dear.'

Whatever could Frederick want to talk about, so shortly before their wedding? Was he having doubts? Had Simon objected after all?

'You weren't afraid at all, were you, Anne?'

Darcy's calm voice broke her thoughts, and since they weren't very useful anyway his distraction was very welcome.

'No, I wasn't. Can you believe that? I wanted to go faster, but I do want to learn correctly. I remembered riding your pony bareback, it was such a thrill. Maybe I'll try that on Peppermint, too. But not yet.'

'You named your new horse Peppermint? That's cute, more candy in our stables. It suits her, very much so. I'm starting to get used to this practice of naming horses, I never did that but it does make it more personal. I used to see riding as a way to get from A to B, at least I thought I did, but in fact I never felt it that way. It was always more, I just didn't acknowledge that to myself. I'm looking forward to riding together, Anne, visiting all the places of our youth. And I want you to know that I will witness your wedding tomorrow with pride and pleasure. I have no doubts left, not about Frederick and not about Nick. You are happier now than I've ever seen you, and those men will take such good care of you. Simon, too. He and Nick will both be fine riders as well, despite having been raised in the city.'

'They did well? I'm glad to hear that, though I knew Nick couldn't be anything else than a natural, he is so athletic and fearless.'

'He certainly is. And he would give his life for you, gladly. And he isn't at all servile, really, is he?'

'Oh, he was, towards you. And other men of power. That was how he was supposed to act or lose his position, and it must have stuck to him somehow. But you are right, deep inside Nick is actually rather bossy, much like Frederick. And you. But like you two he is reasonable as well, I treat him like an equal because birth is just a matter of chance, he treats me like an equal because being a man or a woman is also accidental.'

'Oh, Anne, I'm so happy for you. Sometimes I still remember the old you, and then to see you like this, riding a strong animal you've never met before without showing even a twinge of fear. I admire you, I truly do.'

'And I am supremely happy to be here, Darcy. I've never in my life experienced such friendship and so much love.'

Darcy now turned to Nick, who was coming towards Anne but sadly not to embrace her or kiss her.

'Fowler, you sat that horse like a gentleman born,' Darcy observed, Anne didn't know how truthful that was but Darcy generally spoke his heart. At least Nick was relieved to be spoken to, it meant he could talk to Anne in the presence of the possibly alert Pemberley stable hands.

'Thank you very much, sir, I wasn't afraid at all. I can imagine what all the fuss is about, it gives a great buzz to sit on a creature that strong and have him do what you ask. And the speed! I loved it. I just cannot believe Mr Manners got me a horse, too. And such a handsome one, he said it was truly my very own, not on loan or just to use, it's mine.'

'He reminds me of my black, your horse, they look very much alike. Which means that you may have to name yours, Fowler, or we'll all get confused.'

'Name a horse? Who, me? I've never named anything, sir.'

Nick was really stunned for a moment, but he was always polite to Darcy.

'Yes, Fowler, it's your horse, and you will be spending a lot of time with him, and trusting your life to him. You should give him a name. But it need not be straight away, you can think about it. Although Anne named her grey quickly enough.'

'May I inquire what you named your beautiful horse, Miss de Bourgh? Did you like her? Were you afraid? I bet you weren't!'

'I liked my horse very much, and I wasn't even a bit afraid, just exhilarated. I named her Peppermint. Mrs Darcy named her new hunter Barley, for barley sweets, and I liked the idea very much.'

'Good, I didn't think you would be afraid, I know you are a very brave lady, investigating noises in the night at the Blackwood house, and standing up to your mother. What is a mere horse in comparison?'

He smiled his devastating smile, and Anne suppressed the sudden urge to hold him and kiss him.

'Well, I suppose I'd better call my horse Liquorice then, since I used to love pontefract cakes and always bought them when I had a few pennies to spend. They were as black as him, and I always thought the castle that marked them something out of a fairy tale. And now I live in an even larger and more beautiful house, and ride a black horse that is my very own.'

'It is a perfect name, I think, Nick. Liquorice has such an exotic sound. And you can shorten it to liquor, you like brandy, too.'

'I love all liquor, I'm afraid. Fortunately I can steer clear of it very easily, I saw plenty of good people ruined by overindulging. But, as a name it won't hurt. I do feel my legs, I suppose that is normal after riding, Mr Darcy?'

Darcy laughed and observed, 'If you feel them now you will be in agony tomorrow. It takes about two weeks to build the necessary muscles. Taking a hot bath will help, and you can give each other a nice firm massage. You'll need it, too, Anne. Once you get used to riding you won't suffer much stiffness anymore, unless you fall off. That hurts even more. But those techniques you showed us to fall the right way may save you from a break some day, Fowler. I bet you have them ingrained and don't have to think about them anymore.'

'I do think that is true, Mr Darcy, but still I'd rather not fall off at all...'

Darcy laughed, and said cheerily, 'Oh, you'll take a fall or two, Fowler, you'll gain confidence daily until one day you try to impress Miss de Bourgh and overreach yourself. We've all taken falls, it's not that bad.'

Nick seemed resigned until he spoke up, 'I suspect the falling isn't the worst, though, Mr Darcy.'

'Indeed, Fowler, it's not the fall that hurts. It's the landing, and you have an advantage because you already know how do that safely. Still, maybe I'm wrong and you are more sensible than we were as boys. We thought we were invulnerable and nothing could really harm us, and you have already found out that life can be a delicate thing.'

And still Anne couldn't embrace Nick and kiss him, when she wanted to so very much.

'Maybe you'd better get that bath, if you want to be able to ride again tomorrow.'

If that wasn't the best excuse to spend some time on each other, Anne didn't know what was. They quickly left to make their way back to the house with Georgiana and Eric, still elated by their first time on the back of a horse. Frederick was talking to the stable hand who had given them their riding lesson, but he'd find her to have that little talk he mentioned.

After their visit to the Brewers, Darcy had made arrangements to send them to London. They had been glad to accept, and had left a few days after the visit to search the attic. It would mean some extra work for Darcy, spring was the time when his tenants were sowing and there was always someone needing help or advice. But that was a small price to pay for his steward's future, Nathan had always given his all for Darcy, and Darcy felt he needed to repay that in kind.

When the letters from the Brewers' attic hadn't offered any conclusive proof, Elizabeth and himself had searched for evidence at Pemberley, looking for hidden drawers in Darcy's father's desk, and checking under the carpets whether there were any signs of loose boards. But of course there weren't, his father had not been the type to warn his mistress to burn his letters if he was going to save hers. Everything she ever wrote had certainly been safely disposed of.

Whereas his father's room was exactly as it had been before he died nearly six years ago, Georgie had taken over her mother's bedroom and the furniture in it when she turned twelve. Their mother's possessions had been stored in a different room, and they had searched them thoroughly, though without expecting to find any proof of a relationship that had not been hers at all. Still, uncle Spencer had apparently suggested she'd known of the affair, and those letters had disappeared, there was a chance they'd find something, it was worth checking.

Not having found any useful correspondence in either his father's former room or among his mother's possessions, Darcy and Elizabeth had decided to write to his uncle to remind him he had been planning to search his sister's private apartment at his estate, and to beg him to let them know the results. And while they waited for his reply, they would ask Georgiana permission to check out her mother's former bedroom, and the furniture, which meant they had to tell her about her father's dishonourable behaviour and the resulting suspicions about Wickham's parentage.

'Should we have something like the confidence room out here as well, my love?' Elizabeth asked, and she was right, they should. An idea struck him.

'Remember the little room I had decorated for Georgie? I suppose they'll want the Clementi in the drawing-room, and we can use that room for exchanging confidences.'

'Excellent. Do you want to ask Georgiana to join us there, and tell her about Wickham?'

However Darcy disliked having to do that, it needed to be done, he'd already postponed it for too long.

'I really don't think she'll mind that much, my love. But why don't you let me tell her, and save you the trouble?'

He could and he would do it, but in a way it would be better if Elizabeth did it. It would bear less of a load coming from her, Darcy guessed.

'Yes, please. Do you think Fielding should be there?'

'I do. We share these things, they should be able to do that as well.'

'That is true. I'll ask them at breakfast then, and you can tell what we have found out.'

And thus they were sitting in the room with the Clementi, in comfortable chairs, his father's letters in a stack on the low table in front of them. Elizabeth did not dawdle but instead came to the point immediately.

'Georgiana, you know that your father was leading a kind of double life, don't you?'

She nodded and replied, 'Yes, didn't he visit bars in the seedier parts of town, together with George Wickham? I seem to remember that you suspected he led Wickham astray.'

Elizabeth affirmed, and continued, 'Your uncle Spencer and I both suspected it might be worse, we feared he'd had an affair with Mrs Victoria Wickham.'

'Wickham's mother? I can imagine that, she was so pretty and always dressed to perfection, and so full of life. Mother was beautiful, too, but in a transcendent way, you see. Mrs Wickham was earthy, more real, somehow. She was always very kind to me, and when mother had passed away she really knew what to say to make me feel better. I was devastated when she died so soon after mother. And you say she may have had an affair with father?'

'Uncle Spencer thought so, and I had my suspicions. I told Fitzwilliam and we went to the Brewers to look for evidence. We found these.'

Elizabeth handed Georgie the letters, and like them, she checked the heading and the adieu first.

'So it's true. Can I read them?'

She studied the letters for another moment then observed, 'These go way back, Elizabeth, that is Fitzwilliam's birth year!'

'You can read them, both of you.'

Elizabeth did not warn George about the content, and frankly, she didn't need to. Eight letters, spread over almost as many years, all starting with affection and ending with love. Enough to predict what was in them.

Fielding read each letter as Georgie finished, and she read all in one go, not pausing for remarks or questions. When she was done, she waited for Fielding to finish the last one, then she observed dryly, 'I suppose this means I have been very fortunate to escape marrying my own half-brother? I feel sorry for all of them, you know, not just mother and Mr Wickham. George, too, I suppose he never knew, or he wouldn't have tried to elope with me? Will you tell him?'

'It's not at all certain he is your father's son, Georgiana. She was married to Mr Wickham after all.'

'Father was too fond of George not to have known, and let's be honest, they were like peas in a pod, apparently. Victoria Wickham was a nurse, maybe she knew how to prevent getting with child, we all know now that it can be done. She never had another child, did she?'

'We will not tell George Wickham anything before we have hard evidence that he is your half-brother. A lot of letters were missing, we know your mother suspected for she told uncle Spencer. We're hoping to find the missing letters in her room, either here in your former bedroom or at your uncle's estate. Maybe there is conclusive proof in one of them. And even if we do find proof, it won't change anything for Wickham.'

'Not with two legitimate heirs for father's estate, no. And father never acknowledged him, which is what might have made a difference for George. Though I suppose the man he thinks is his father was the better man.'

'Does reading this make you angry, or sad?'

Fielding had not said anything so far, but when he finally did of course it was exactly the right thing. Georgie took her time to think, and when she spoke she sounded fine.

'Not angry, and only sad for them, not for myself. Maybe for George, though I cannot think what might have been different if he'd known. He will be angry if we tell him, and rightfully so. I'm certain he often wished he'd been our father's son, and not just for an inheritance. Maybe he would have heeded father more if he'd been a parent instead of a friend. And maybe father would have expected more of George if he'd acknowledged him as his son. We'll never know. But of course you may search my old bedroom for hidden caches. Maybe you can find the old huntsmaster, he may yet live and know more. Apparently he was close to father.'

That was an excellent idea, Mrs Reynolds would remember him and know whether and where he lived.

'Do you know how George Wickham is doing, Fitzwilliam?' Georgie now asked him. She really seemed interested, and since he did know, he told her.

'Colonel Drummond told me he will be transferred to Kent pretty soon, to prepare for his first overseas mission with the Rifle Core.'

'That sounds very dangerous. Whatever he did, half-brother or not, he is now fighting for his country and deserves our respect. Sometimes I do remember him as he used to be, he was such fun to be with, and so kind to a lonely little girl. I suppose I'll never see him again, but maybe I should write to thank him for those years, and to wish him well.'

'I think he would appreciate it, Georgiana. He made a lot of mistakes, the life he leads now is what he made of it, but I don't think it is a bad life, he seemed to enjoy being an officer. Still, I think it would make him feel good to know you don't remember him all bad.'

Elizabeth was so forgiving, and Georgie, too. How did they do that? Was he really that resentful? Georgie didn't seem overly emotional, just a bit sentimental, as Darcy himself felt when thinking of his summers with Anne, Spencer and Fitzwilliam. Maybe what one did in those years, and the people one was close to, made an extra impact.

'I will think about it. Will you let us know if you find anything? I'd love to help with the search, but we need to practise, we've neglected our instruments shamelessly the last week.'

And indeed, Fielding was already eyeing the instrument, eager to get on with their morning's work. He looked fine, much calmer than in London, and less tired. Married life and privacy were doing him a lot of good. His riding was improving steadily, and though he liked shooting as little as he liked fighting, he practised with the same determination he applied to his own art, and results could not but follow.

Though there was one gentlemanly occupation that Fielding seemed unable to appreciate: billiards. Besides shooting and riding there was nothing a true gentleman enjoyed more than a bout of billiards, and both Darcy and Manners were true aces in the sport. Simon could already play a little, a remnant of rainy Sunday afternoons at aunt Catherine's, when Darcy was so bored and fed up with his aunt he had to flee the drawing room and invited Simon to play billiards with him. Fowler was of course almost brilliant, he had regularly played a more common version in public places with his rowdier friends and besides, he was good at all sports, he rode like a trooper on his black Liquor, and shot like one, too. The first time he had fired a rifle he'd commented, 'Compared to Lieutenant Talbot's musket this rifle is about ten times as easy to handle and as much more accurate. Why doesn't the King give his soldiers rifles? They risk their lives for him, don't they?'

Darcy didn't know, but Manners did.

'Talbot told me once, Nick. Rifles are incredibly expensive, and so is the ammunition. And most soldiers do not have to shoot accurately, they fire en masse on a large enemy formation, no need to aim, you're always going to hit something. Darcy's brother-in-law is with the Rifle Core, they're skirmishers who need to be sharp shooters to pick off officers or key figures in an attempt to destroy the enemy's formation, and for that they have rifles. And green coats, to not stand out. But nevertheless they will take huge losses in the field, it's an incredibly risky assignment.'

But Fowler's prowess in gentlemanly sports was not the reason that Fielding didn't seem to enjoy them. He practised riding and shooting readily enough. Darcy suspected that his brother-in-law considered billiards an incredible waste of time. Shooting and riding would help him across the continent more safely. But hitting a ball with a stick was probably a complete waste of time to someone who spent five hours a day at the piano.


	134. Chapter 134

Chapter 144

Well, this was it, the day that his beloved would get married and not to him. Nick had pushed the fact away time and time again, telling himself she loved him, and that this was the best way to be together, living among the class Anne had grown up in. Never in his wildest dreams had Nick imagined the wealth and the privilege that class truly possessed. He had thought Anne and her relatives a step up from the Blackwood family, but only now did he understand the gap between his former master and Mr Manners, the man who was going to marry the woman Nick loved.

She was sleeping beside him, looking much younger than her true age and almost childishly innocent that way. Would nothing change with her marriage? Would Mr Manners allow another man to sleep with his wife, sire his children? Anne was convinced he would, or she would not have agreed to connect herself to him. Just yesterday he had asked to see her in private, and while Anne had feared either he or Simon had cold feet, in fact he had wanted to make certain she agreed with the arrangements he and Mrs Fielding had made for Anne with respect to her fortune. That wasn't a man who planned to rule his wife's life, was it? Why then couldn't Nick just trust everything to work out well? And what was the worst that could happen?

Ending up back in London, destitute, with his heart broken? Mr Blackwood would take him in and find him a job, and he'd known he'd get his heart broken when he realised he had fallen for Miss de Bourgh. No surprise there. But he also knew Anne was in a way marrying Mr Manners for Nick, to be with Nick. If she hadn't loved a commoner, she could have waited for a gentleman to fall in love with. If the worst happened, Nick would be miserable but free to resume his former ways. Anne would pay her entire life for misjudging Mr Manners' intentions.

'You really hate us getting married, don't you? Frederick and I? I'm sorry to put you through it, but I still cannot think of an alternative.'

Anne had woken up, she watched him with concern and spoke with a very feeling voice.

Nick found himself unable to speak, he loved her so much, and he was so afraid to lose her to a loveless union, even one that would make the society pages buzz with excitement.

But wait...if Mr Manners only wanted Anne for her status and money he wouldn't have agreed to a quick ceremony in a tiny church, would he?

By now, Anne had him in her arms, stroking his face and his hair, kissing him with so much love he could feel it. An angel in Heaven could be more beautiful than she, but no-one could be more loving, no way. Her concern drove him to exert himself to speak.

'I'm so afraid he will change, my love. What man would allow a servant to touch his wife?'

She looked at him in a really strange way, held him at arm's-length as if to see whether he was fooling her, then burst out laughing.

'That is why you were looking so intensely unhappy just now? Do you seriously fear that Frederick will change into some tyrant all of a sudden? Nick, he doesn't even want to touch me, he'd touch you before me. Haven't you seen enough of Frederick to know that he is not at all what he pretends to be? Strong, yes, bossy, maybe, but almost anxious to be liked by those close to him? I would have thought you'd trust him a lot better by now, but again, I have underestimated your past, it still has such a hold on you.'

She took his face in her hands as if he were a little boy, and kissed him gently on his lips.

'Frederick loves you, too, it's not just the two of us who are getting married. It's you and Simon as well, you will be part of this unity. There will be just one thing we don't all share, and he doesn't want that from me. Or you. I was afraid you hated to witness my kissing him, when that is nothing more than an act, performed for the rest of the world to our best ability. The whole wedding is a sham, my love, we'll have the real party afterwards, right here. You know what, let's try to set Frederick and Simon drunk. They have never dared indulge for fear of betraying themselves, and now they need not worry anymore. And then you'll see the real Frederick, and you'll know your fears are unfounded.'

Her determination slowly overcame his reservations, she was so certain of this, and she knew Frederick so much better than he did. Maybe it was time they had a man-to-man conversation, as equals, Nick had been conditioned to look up to gentlemen like Frederick but the latter had always made it clear that wasn't what he wanted from Nick. He hadn't pushed, Nick suspected because Simon had told his lover that putting pressure on Nick would only make Nick fearful of him, and rightly so. But maybe the time had come for Nick to break this stalemate and try to become friends with Frederick. Set them drunk, the very idea was ludicrous, but maybe Anne had a point. No-one would find out.

'I've been very stubborn, haven't I? Sticking to my old habits of bowing and scraping?'

'No, Nick, you've grown immensely! Taking it slow like you did wasn't just better for you, Darcy wouldn't have appreciated familiarity from you, nor would Elizabeth, but now they are starting to respect you for who you are. You have been yourself all this time, and I beg you to not try to behave differently. You cannot in public anyway. But when we are in private you might show Frederick more of yourself, and allow him to treat you like a friend. He wants to be your friend so very much, like you are Simon's and mine. Just because he happens to be a wealthy gentleman you shut him out. He understands, but it hurts him nonetheless. If he knew what you just admitted to me he'd be gutted, please believe me.'

Well, there was nothing for it anyway, the wedding was going to happen in a few hours, and Nick would have to live with it. Like Anne, Frederick and Simon. They'd all have to live with it.

'Nick, I love you. Come to me.'

The love in those beautiful eyes, her perfect features framed by her blonde hair, this angel wanted him to be with her and he would. He would throw himself at her feet, on her mercy, and she would hold him and shelter him from the world, like she had done that night when he had crawled to her room and in her bed, expecting to die in her arms but finding himself battered but alive and cleaned and loved in bed with her beside him.

Like that first night together, he crawled as close to her as their physical shapes allowed, resting his head in her bosom, his arms and legs clutching her to him as if it was their last moment together. Then, it might have been their last moment together, now he still feared it might be though his reason said that nothing would change. Anne felt his sudden resurgence of fear and held him firmly.

'I'm sorry you feel bad, Nick, but I promise you it will be over soon, and then you'll find your fear wasn't necessary. Everything will be just fine, we'll have the time of our lives.'

Her closeness and her lovely scent calmed him down, and he became aware of her lovely white breast right in front of him, the pink nipple offering distraction and the memory of comfort. He reached for it with his lips and licked it, then took it in his mouth altogether, sucking gently and inhaling deeply at the same time. So good, nothing had changed, this was still the best place to be on this very earth. His body relaxed and his mind followed.

But his beloved was no longer a maiden trying to find a little love and comfort for herself, half ashamed of what she was doing and afraid of what was coming. She was a woman now, and his touch on her breast caused her a flash of heat. As she gave him comfort, so her body shuddered with expectancy, and his body reacted in kind, instantly aroused while his mind still tried to hold onto its state of utter calm. In vain.

They both started to grope and rub themselves against the other, until they simultaneously decided to take it slowly, in memory of that night, months ago, when they had both set their first steps on the path to a deeper love than they'd ever expected to find.

'Anne, I can't live without you, I really can't.'

And he meant it, even as he stroked her velvet skin and kissed her perfectly shaped, and eager, lips, tears were threatening. And he wasn't even ashamed of his weakness, it was a bare fact, he could not live without this warm-hearted, strong woman.

'You won't have to, Nick, because I need you as much.'

They kissed and kissed, until it wasn't enough anymore and they had to be one, immediately. Still kissing and fondling greedily they connected their bodies, Anne as determined as Nick to be closer to each other than ever before. The one moment he was supporting himself on his arms on top of her, with her clutching to his shoulders so firmly that she was kissing and nibbling his neck, her body only touching the bed where they were connected, her legs entwined across his straining hips. And the next he was lying on his back with her riding him with energy, no sign of her leg muscles aching from the riding lesson the day before. His legs hurt all right but not whilst giving Anne a rough ride, it was a different movement altogether and it was so good to heave and strain under her, even if it had hurt he'd be unstoppable.

It was only when he felt his climax nearing and he knew she couldn't even be close to hers that he slowed down and realised he had forgotten his protection.

'Don't stop, Nick, please,' she breathed in his ear, redoubling her own effort, making him gasp with ardour, 'just be mine.'

But she didn't know! Then it was too late, his baser self took over and bucked her up, and down again, until a shuddering climax caused him to twitch and groan, then lie still, chest heaving with the effort.

She was still heated where he was totally worn out, his whole body seemed to have emptied itself inside her, the one time in ten years he had forgotten about his protections. The foolishness! As if he wanted to mark Anne before losing her to Frederick.

He wanted to speak but she hushed him sweetly, but with determination.

'Just hold me, Nick, just be with me. I don't want to stand at the altar crying, but if you keep projecting your anxiety like this I'm afraid I cannot keep up the façade.'

But that wasn't it at all! Now he'd ruined a very special moment as well as endangered their near future. Maybe he could still salvage the moment, though, make sure she'd walk the aisle calm and happy. He was sated, but she wasn't, he could still make her forget his moments of self-reproach and explain later.

Taking her in his arms was an excellent start, she laid her head on his chest, burrowing her face in his chest hair, stroking it while relishing his sweaty odour. He stroked her back gently, but with the intent to bring back her heat, letting his hand go a lot further down, over her lovely smooth bottom to the front, causing her to shiver. Her face looked up in surprise, she expected him to be worn out, and though he felt little heat himself, he enjoyed stirring hers back up. Nick Fowler was not going to let the woman he loved stand at the altar unsatisfied, that was below his dignity. No woman in ten years had left his bed not totally sated, and he was not going to let that happen to Anne, not on her wedding day, and not when she might pay for his release with a child. She didn't know it, yet, but she was going to squeal for him.

Anne could feel the change in Nick, either her plea had hit the mark, or he was pretending really well. There was no way to know which, so she'd enjoy his attentions as he offered them. Which were rather overwhelming, he stroked her as if they were just starting their loving, not as if he'd just had a staggering climax. He should be sleepy and sated, not tantalizing her with his large and yet incredibly gentle hands.

This was the Nick she'd first met, the philanderer who'd warned her against forming expectations of him, who had taught her about loving almost analytically, from the basis upward, to ever increasing intimacy and ecstasy. Though she had always resisted his superior attitude, out of high-bred arrogance at first, and self-respect once she had fallen for him, she decided to subject herself to his ministrations this once. She had pleaded him to support her just now, and if he needed to feel a bit dominant to survive her wedding without showing his dismay, so be it. They'd settle everything afterwards, the four of them and a bottle of brandy. Though Anne had little experience with drinking, she hoped Simon and Frederick would be able to use a slight intoxication to drop their huge barriers for a few hours, while Nick might hopefully set aside his awe for Frederick and just talk to him as one man to another. Simon might have some resentment against years of servitude built up, but he was a large step ahead of Nick in throwing off his past and becoming an independent man. She didn't expect to reap benefits for herself, except that if they wanted this marriage to work, they would need to share their feelings, not keep them bottled up.

It was so good to lie on Nick's chest and feel him stroke her back with intense love, he adulated her, as she admired him, let him be dominant for a while, see how far he would take it. She knew he loved her, more than he had ever loved anyone.

His attentions were becoming more specific, almost of if he was aware of her remaining heat and stoking it up. She hadn't minded being left with her lust, they had been so incredibly close for a few moments, she hadn't wanted that to end, though she appreciated his noticing and attempting to see to her needs first. But this was going to be a difficult day for him, he needed to feel close to her, and to stop in the middle of such intimacy as they had been experiencing seemed a damned shame. Her own feelings of heat would keep, they usually ebbed quickly, then came back later at a convenient moment. Tonight, tomorrow morning, maybe even this afternoon already. It didn't matter much, he had never left her with her urges before and he had merely obeyed her wish.

His chest was such a good place to be, it smelled deliciously and his tiny nipples were so cute. She licked them in turn, his stroking was having some effect, her heat was not waning but rather increasing slowly but surely. It felt good, and her hands explored his firm muscles, wondering how they could be soft as well. He was so strong, he and Frederick had moved things together that Anne thought would need at least four men to even get off the ground.

A large hand cupped her breast, then stroked it, causing her own nipples to stand firm, and when it moved across her belly, then further down she knew for sure: he was arousing her. He went straight for her most intimate parts, rubbing them where it was best, flashes of heat started to well up, and she settled under his arm to enjoy his ministrations, no longer smacking of dominance but rather of intense love, well, and a lot of experience with pleasing ladies. But she'd known that from the first, and actually profited by it, no need for Nick to improve his mind on these matters, he had experienced all of it. But maybe Anne could find some improvement herself, new ways to please Nick. It was worth a bit of trouble to surprise him.

When he finally kissed her again her heat went into overdrive, and he didn't seem all that sated anymore either. Suppressing a twinge of disappointment when he broke off the kiss, she soon felt his tongue on her left nipple, and then he sucked it, causing a shudder to run through her, after which the right breast got some attention, his hands still stroking and rubbing her intimately. A cry of lust escaped her, and he laughed merrily and moved down between her legs, spreading them gently and applying his tongue where is was more than welcome by now. Oh, it seemed to have a mind of its own, his tongue, and it knew just what she liked, it was so good, so warm and gentle. When she started to shudder all over he added a single finger to the equation, and that was it, her ardour rushed to a climax, then slowly, tantalizingly, ebbed to a lower point, from whence he took it up again, and a third time, until she actually squealed with pleasure.

That seemed to be some kind of cue, for he immediately worked his way back up, kissed her with a warm tongue tasting of herself, then entered her with some force.

Another squeal escaped her lips, and she offered herself to him, hoping he'd keep up the firmness despite this being his second effort within half an hour. With his broad, strong torso touching her slim body but not actually resting on her, he covered her altogether, giving her a feeling of being surrounded by him, a nice, safe feeling, despite her lust rising again and almost taking over her mind. All thought stopped, she became ardour, and again clutched herself against him with her aching legs, following his rhythm, his every touch inside her giving a tiny explosion of feeling so intense it was almost painful.

It didn't last long, she was the first to cry out in release, and then he shuddered and collapsed right on top of her, a bit heavier now but not nearly his true weight, he still carried most of it himself.

'It was too late anyway, my love. I don't suppose there was much left for the second time.'

He kissed her and rolled to the side, taking her in his arms, still heaving a little and also obviously tired now.

Whatever did he mean by that? And then it struck her, his protections! He hadn't wanted to stop the first time because he wanted her to be sated, too, in their intimate moment he had forgotten his protections and he wanted to save what could be saved!

Well, she was not going to panic or reproach him: it was both their responsibility. Snuggled in his arms she said as much, and her voice sounded as dry as she wished it to.

'Well, if I do get with child, there will be no other baby on this entire world that has been conceived with more love than ours. I won't blame you, Nick, I forgot, too, I've never felt that close to you before, I just didn't want it to end. I love you, and I do want your baby, remember, I'm twenty five already, I haven't got that much time left to have one. We'll be more careful next time, but if it happens I'll be glad, too. Thank you, my love, I feel much better now.'

'I'm glad you're not angry. I've never forgotten before, not once! I suppose I was upset about the wedding after all. We have half an hour left before Dora will be here to dress you, shall we snuggle a little more before I have to leave the room?'

Which they did, so comfortable together that he almost fell asleep, looking sweeter than ever with his eyes heavily lidded and his voice a bit slurred, as they whispered sweet nonsense in each other's ears. By the time he left through the door connecting their rooms, Anne was convinced that though he might not enjoy the ceremony, he would witness it without too many regrets.

When Simon entered Nick's room about an hour later after a short knock, he first thought his friend was dead drunk. He was lying on his narrow bed, seemingly fast asleep, butt naked except for his blankets covering barely a third of his body, and not the third one generally covered when one expected company.

For Nick was expecting him, should be expecting him, not to spend two hours on his looks as Dora was doing for Anne right now, but a mere half hour to make him look like a gentleman. At this moment, he looked like a tramp, a drunk one. And he smelled, of sweat and something else, not spirits, fortunately, but equally unsuitable for church. Simon had a good nose and a good memory, and more life's experience than he might have wished for, though no-one would ever have caught him having had very intimate relations with a woman without washing thoroughly afterwards. Was it a very bad sign that Nick hadn't?

He did look very appealing, spread over the bed with his face relaxed but not slack-mouthed or worse, drooling, his superbly muscled arms hugging himself, and his tackle draped appealingly over a hairy shank. Though he knew Nick might feel embarrassed or even angry at him for entering his room uninvited and finding him in a state of disarray and undress, there was no time to lose, Nick needed a little more attendance than Simon had expected, and then Simon still had to dress himself. Glad he hadn't yet changed in his one good coat himself, that smell would stick to literally anything, he kneeled beside the sleeping brute and tried subtlety and kindness first.

'Psst, Nick, wake up, it's time to get dressed!'

The burly shape stirred, mumbled and merely turned away from him, showing a broad hairy back incredibly similar to Frederick's, and an equally hairy pair of buttocks, muscular and well-padded enough that Nick probably wasn't suffering from his latest riding lesson as the much more slender Simon was. He settled back to absolute stillness, fast asleep once again.

There was nothing for it, he had to touch the naked shape before him, time was flying. Hopefully Nick would not be offended. Simon laid his hand on the broad shoulder and shook it gently, talking in a soothing voice to smooth over potential ruffled feathers.

'Nick, Nick, it's Simon, you really need to wake up. We have some cleaning to do as well as dressing.'

That worked, life returned to the strong body before him, Nick turned around towards him, eyes opening slowly to recognise his friend sitting by his bed. As awareness returned, he sat up quickly, but did nothing to hide his nudity.

'Simon! The wedding! Oh my God, I must have dropped off!'

He looked around, still a bit dazed, sniffed the air and then himself and looked at Simon in something much like terror.

'I'm a mess, Simon, I'm so sorry you had to see that, and especially smell that! What time is it? I didn't mean to go to sleep, and you know I always take care of myself. Dammit, of all the times a fellow can let himself go... I need a bath like never before!'

'Calm down, Nick, there is still some time. Not enough for a bath, but it's not that bad. Nothing a very thorough washing cannot solve.'

Simon emphasised the words very and thorough, and somehow that pulled Nick out of his sleep-induced confusion. He laughed and said ruefully, 'Again, I'm sorry you had to smell that. We spent some time on each other, because of, well, you know why.'

As he moved towards Nick's wash stand, hoping there would be plenty of water, Simon nodded, 'We did that, too.'

'Except you clearly didn't fall asleep afterwards, without washing up first.'

'I wanted to, but Frederick didn't let me. Since he had let me choose his wedding clothes, he insisted I apply them to him. You were kicked out, I hope gracefully.'

'I was, but I was knackered, so I lay down for a few moments before taking my time washing and dressing...'

Simon shrugged, busying himself filling the large bowl with a mixture of water and soap, glad Nick even had some in his very bare room.

'Never mind, better come here and start washing, I'll lay out your pantaloons and coat, and I have a modest cravat with me. And I'm warning you, I have a very good nose and I'll check when you're done. If I can smell even a hint of lady's flower on you I'll scrub it off myself.'

When Nick, very much awake now and still nude and not at all embarrassed to be in that state before Simon, laughed at his rude speech, Simon felt free to check his thoroughness once in a while, as he picked out Nick's best pantaloons and his one good coat from the barest of wardrobes. Used to wearing a livery, Nick did not have a single shirt Simon deemed worthy of tying a cravat around, so he checked Nick's progress washing one last time, finding him very thorough indeed, using soap as liberally as Simon wanted him to, and said, 'You're much of a size to Frederick, I'm fetching you a smart shirt from his wardrobe, I want you to look your best for your little lady today. Though I suppose she will be simpering over you the whole time anyway, I don't think a sturdy fellow like you falls asleep afterwards as a rule, you must have really made an impression on her.'

Nick looked up and did not protest, he was probably still half asleep, though he was progressing nicely with the clean-up, and merely said, 'Thank you, Simon.'

When Simon returned with the shirt Nick smelled a lot better, and he had made up his bed and opened a window. He was wearing the pantaloons, and let Simon put the shirt on him and even tuck it in his pantaloons the right way, which was a bit intimate but nothing a valet wasn't expected to do for his master. Buttoning the collar, Simon demonstratively sniffed his friend's face, and discerned nothing but the lavender of the soap.

'And, do I pass muster or is it the floor brush and the soft soap for me?'

'I'm just glad I won't have to tell Mrs Reynolds on you. But you will smell like a gentleman today, which I why I brought you a present from Frederick.'

Per Frederick's request, Simon handed Nick a small glass bottle with a likewise glass stopper. There was no label on the bottle, but Simon knew it had come from a reputable perfumer in London, where Frederick had chosen it in person as a wedding gift for Nick. Simon hoped he would appreciate it, it was a princely gift but few from Nick's walk of life would recognise its value. Nick didn't strike him as a man who would find perfume effeminate, but one never knew.

'You mean Frederick brought that from London for me? A whole bottle of real perfume?'

Apparently, Nick did belong to those few.

'The girls always begged to be allowed perfume, but Mr Blackwood wouldn't have it, said it would only turn their heads. Can I smell it?'

'It's yours, Nick, just be careful you don't drop the bottle.'

Nick's large hands held the bottle carefully as he worked out the stopper, then held it to his nose. His expression became one of wonderment.

'It's lovely, Simon, and different from yours, isn't it?'

'They're all different, Frederick had this made for you, it's supposed to fit your personality. May I smell it?'

Nick held the stopper in front of him, and Simon took a deep whiff of the perfume. It was very good, not too heavy for an already burly man, and not so strong as to overpower his own personal scent, which would give an effeminate impression, or too light, which would fade too quickly.

'I like it, I think it will be a great match with your personality.'

'How do I apply it?'

Simon showed Nick, after which Nick carefully put away the bottle in a dark corner of his wardrobe.

'Do not save it for special occasions, and make sure to close the stopper well, for it does evaporate slightly, and nothing will be left after a year or so.'

After that, Simon tied the cravat and helped Nick with his coat, then arranged his hair just the tiniest bit. When giving him a last lookover, Simon smelled the perfume in concurrence with the man it had been made for.

'You look fine, and smell even better. Why don't you have a mirror?'

'I'm just a guard, remember? I use Anne's when I need one.'

'Well, you cannot use hers now, so you'd better come with me to Frederick's room and use ours.'

'Great, I want to thank him for the perfume, no-one has ever gifted me with something so...'

'Useless?' supplied Simon cheekily.

'No, it's not useless, especially not today. I was afraid to lose Anne because of this marriage, Simon, I couldn't imagine Frederick not claiming his wife. This gift makes me feel worthy of her, and of course the fact that he took the trouble to choose it, especially for me, proves Anne was right.'

No wonder he had been worn out, poor man. He still didn't believe things would work out as he hoped.

'Do you believe now, Nick?'

'I suppose I do. But you can imagine how it heartens me to have Frederick do something like that for me.'

'I do, Nick. And remember, I'll be right next to you during the whole of it, and I have no doubts, Frederick can be trusted, and he likes you. Everything will be fine, you'll see. Mrs Reynolds told me Anne had requested a whole bottle of brandy in her room, after the wedding. We go way back, you know, Mrs Reynolds and I, I can guess she was worried, a lady with brandy? I suppose we are going to have a little celebration in Anne's room, so I told the good lady it was nothing to worry about. I suppose we'll have to bring our own glasses, you and I, and join the fun through your room.'

Nick still didn't believe it altogether. Well, then there was nothing Simon could do but help him through the wedding and let Frederick prove himself.

Simon did not knock before entering Frederick's room, he merely pulled Nick inside and took him to the large mirror, to show him his hair and the effect of the cravat. A white one, Nick was not ready for a black one, not by far.

He was not comfortable in Frederick's room without invitation, but Simon ignored his fidgeting and waited for his reaction. Predictably, Frederick put away the papers he had been reading and stood behind them.

'You are looking very smart, Nick,' he said, and only Simon could hear he was actually a bit nervous about this whole wedding business.

Nick turned towards him and observed, 'Thank you, Frederick. And thank you very much for the perfume, it's lovely. Do you want to smell it? Simon has made sure there is no hint of possible distraction on me.'

Cheeky fellow. Good for him.

Frederick did look a bit puzzled but he stepped towards Nick and sniffed. Then he smiled.

'It is just perfect, I knew it. Just a touch of sandalwood is just the thing for you. I'm glad you like it, I did wonder.'

'I love luxuries, Frederick, though I haven't been able to afford many I know how to value them. Thank you again for all that you have done for me. I'm sorry if I haven't been very gracious in accepting your offers of friendship. It's all a bit new for me.'

Frederick couldn't help touching Nick, but he managed to restrict himself to a broad shoulder.

'I can imagine, I just hope we can become friends in due time. Are you holding up?'

'I could pretend I am, but I'm not. I'm nervous and afraid, you all tell me everything will be fine but I still fear to lose Anne, to end up alone and destitute. My mind tell me you can be trusted and we will live happily ever after, but my heart quails. Anne told me to buckle up or have her standing at the altar crying. I don't know what to do, I'm afraid to ruin your moment.'

He did trust Frederick or he would not have admitted to that. Such a strange quandary for both.

'Oh, Nick, I can't help it, I have to hug you. We should have talked, I didn't want to upset you since you were so fearful whenever I singled you out so I just ignored it, and now it's too late, the moment is almost here.'

Nick allowed Frederick to hold him, they could indeed have been brothers, especially now they were both similarly attired, and with Nick's manners so gracious, after a mere two weeks of instruction, counting their days on the road.

'I cannot promise you that Anne's love will be yours forever, because she is her own person, and love sometimes doesn't last. But I can and will promise you I will not come between the two of you, I want Anne to be happy and you two love each other. And I promise you that whatever happens you will not be left destitute. And the wedding is not our moment, Nick, because I want to be in Simon's arms, kissing him, and Anne wants to be in yours, kissing you. Our moment will come after the ceremony, when the four of us are together in private.

Now, I may have something to make the next few hours a bit easier on you, just tell me whether you think it will work.'

And while Simon changed his clothes to his very own smart shirt, pantaloons, coat and cravat, not forgetting to make his own frightened owl hairstyle and apply a dab of perfume, and Nick watched him do all this at lightning speed and to total perfection, Frederick fetched a bottle and three glasses from a beautiful wardrobe on the opposite side of the room. When he returned, he poured three glasses of something, from the smell it was whisky, and before Simon was ready he handed Nick a glass, and picked one up himself.

'Can you toast with us before you continue, Simon?'

Simon felt like a little drink, for he, too, was feeling out of sorts, and indeed Nick's fatalistic attitude was a bit infectious.

So, his shirt tucked in his pantaloons but the buttons still undone and his cravat hanging limp on his chest, Simon raised a glass with his beloved and with his kind-of-husband-to-be. Frederick had an arm around Nick, and pointed his glass in the other to their reflection in the mirror.

'We can pass for brothers, Nick, you see that? Keep faith, gentlemen, and all will be well.'

After catching Simon's eye with all the love he could express with nothing but his facial expression, Frederick tossed that drink away as if it was water, but in fact it was indeed whisky, and a really good one. Simon could handle but a sip of the strong stuff. Nick drank one large tug from his glass, then his eyes widened and he exclaimed, 'This is the best booze I ever had, gentlemen.'

Still standing next to Frederick, he sniffed himself, then sniffed Frederick.

'Drink well, smell well, I think I could get used to this.'

'That's the spirit, dear Nick. Now as soon as Simon is ready, we'll be the best actors possible in the best play currently available for a very private audience. Do you think Anne needs a stiff drink, too?'

Nick shook his head and said with more than a little awe, 'She is much stronger than us. I suppose all women are. You've seen what she goes through each month, I'd just lay down and wait to die.'

Putting the finishing touches on his hair, Simon commented, 'We'll give her one afterwards. While our cares are over, hers are just beginning, living with three men!'

And with a well-meant laugh they left Frederick's room to fetch Anne, and join the rest of the family in the hall to wait for the carriages.

But Anne was not alone in her bedroom, Elizabeth and Georgiana were watching how Dora dressed her and did her hair. Dora's skills as a maid were progressing quickly, like Fanny's had done, they had plenty of time together since neither of their mistresses needed much help dressing these days.

Fanny had assured Elizabeth that she and Dora were doing well.

'We're in luck that Mrs Eliot is still here, ma'am, now both she and Mrs Reynolds have enough time to show us how things are done in a large household. Mrs Eliot has told us all about the family she used to live with, and she is so good at explaining things. And Dora and I try techniques on each other's hair and face, it's like having a sister here. She has siblings, too, that she misses a lot, you know. And ma'am, she is in love with Fowler, I could just see it, the way she looked at him, so I asked, and she said it was true, but he'd warned her he didn't do that with people from the same household. She's not angry with him, but sometimes she's sad. And still he teaches her how to read and write well, she couldn't, you see, no-one had taken the trouble to teach her.'

Elizabeth had seen signs of that before, but what could she do? Girls fell in love with men like that, they just couldn't help themselves.

Still, Dora seemed happy enough, following Fanny around, learning new things, and today she had the prime charge, the bride. Fanny had done Elizabeth's hair and dress, and Georgiana's, but somehow things were different in the country, dresses seemed so unimportant suddenly, and the wedding would be a very private affair anyway. Had Elizabeth cared more about having an audience than she'd thought? Or didn't she care about dresses and accessories unless forced by an audience? She had good hopes it was the latter, since she didn't miss the attention, at all.

'I love what you have done with Miss Anne's hair, Dora,' Georgiana observed, 'those little curls are so sweet and at the same time a bit cheeky, doing as they please. They are such a good match with the material of her skirts.'

'Thank you, ma'am,' the maid said demurely, poor Georgiana, to be a ma'am at seventeen! But she was very happy with Eric, and their playing wasn't suffering at all from a lack of concerts and public appearances. Eric did miss his music-loving friends, though he could write letters of course, Elizabeth supposed they'd eventually want to live in town, they were missing out on a lot of lessons as well. They were not really outdoors people, they joined the others for rambles and they had both ridden a horse for the first time, but they were not naturals, Elizabeth had felt Georgiana's fear of not being in control of the horse, and Fitzwilliam had said it was much the same for Eric. They were so disciplined in their playing, Elizabeth supposed being in control was very important to them, and riding such a tall strong creature could be intimidating, especially before one gained the skills to direct it.

'Fanny taught me how to make those curls, ma'am, I'm certain they would look just as beautiful on your blonde hair.'

Georgiana's hair was as long and as blonde as Anne's, but much thicker, and it had a natural wave. Elizabeth wondered whether those artificial curls wouldn't make her look like a mop. Apparently, Georgiana was thinking much the same, for she replied kindly, 'You know, Dora, Fanny did try them on me one time, to see what they would look like. But somehow I didn't like the effect on me, I felt like a sheep, those curls weren't sleek and drooping on me, but... well, I cannot think of another term, they were sheep-like. A blonde chimney brush.'

'Ma'am!' Dora exclaimed, shocked, 'you are so beautiful, you could never look anything like a …, you could never anything other than beautiful.'

Poor Dora couldn't even say it, though Georgiana had compared herself to a sheep. Elizabeth's sister-in-law laughed and remarked, 'Next time it rains and we're stuck inside, you may try it yourself. You'll see. Baaaaahhh.'

Still a seventeen year old, no question about that. But Dora was much the same age, and Elizabeth didn't doubt they'd do it, next time it rained and they were both bored.

Before Dora was altogether finished applying the last blush and arranging the last curl, there was a knock and the gentlemen came in. Actually, just one gentleman came in with his two servants, but those were dressed to such perfection that no-one who didn't know them would have noticed the difference.

Dora betrayed her affection for Nick by gaping at him. Elizabeth felt sorry for her, she was so young, she couldn't help falling in love with a strong man who treated everybody right. He was not above her, though Elizabeth was convinced he would not have made anyone else but Anne a good partner. If he hadn't fallen for her superiority, he would probably have stayed single forever, breaking hearts left and right, mostly among the ladies, but probably some of his colleagues as well. Nick looked so much like Frederick that they could have been brothers, Frederick the elder and more dominant one, though Nick looked perfectly comfortable and self-assured in his finery. The only thing that might possibly betray his low breeding were his shoes, they were too sturdy for a gentleman. But frankly, that hardly showed at all.

Seeing Dora's expression and guessing who was standing behind her, Anne turned around, and Elizabeth really couldn't discern even the slightest hint of admiration for Nick in her perfect features. She admired the newcomers, but she admired all of them, and looked at the one she was going to marry most of all.

'Have you come to take me to church, gentlemen?' she asked in a low, kind voice.

Frederick bowed and replied, 'We have, Miss de Bourgh. You already were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, but today you have eclipsed all my expectations. I did not know that a mere mortal could approach an angel in appearance and goodness of her heart.'

'Frederick you flatterer!' she now said in her usual playful tone, and then she did look straight at Nick.

'Mr Fowler, Mr Eliot will think that Mr Manners has his younger brother over for this special occasion. You look like a veritable gentleman. And Mr Close, if anyone can give an angel competition in sheer beauty it's you. I do wonder about your disposition, though, I suspect yours is no more angelic than mine. I am so proud to be allowed to ride in a carriage with three such handsome and perfectly groomed men.'

Dora was a trooper, despite her admiration for Nick she had not stopped working, and now her mistress was ready to leave and got up from her chair, showing the magnificent shimmering riding skirt and the lovely muslin blouse. Although neither were at all suitable for riding in, Elizabeth couldn't help picturing Anne on her grey horse wearing those frilly, clingy garments. She would be even more beautiful that way, if Mrs Annesley were to see that she'd want to immortalize that image in one of her beautiful pieces, and if Pierre were real he'd want to paint it. Then abduct Anne to the Greek temple, but only for lack of a maze at Pemberley.

Arm in arm with Frederick, flanked by the other men, Anne glided from the room, leaving Elizabeth and Georgiana behind with poor Dora, who was still a bit overcome. Elizabeth didn't want to leave the poor girl this way, seeing Nick dressed as one of the family had been quite a shock, and she should have the chance to talk about it. But Georgiana was way ahead of her sister, it was getting to be a habit. She went over to the slight girl, laid a hand on her shoulder and guided her to an easy chair. Dora looked up at her in awe, but did as directed.

'Better sit down a few moments, Dora, that cannot have been easy for you. Do you want to talk about it? Whatever you say will stay in this room, Mrs Reynolds, Miss de Bourgh, or rather Mrs Manners, won't hear a thing. When all is said and done we're just girls, you, me and Elizabeth, Dora, and girls have to stick together.'

Of course the poor thing broke down and cried her eyes out, and Georgiana held her and let her cry herself out. They had half an hour before they had to leave, Bob and the thoroughbreds would make up for the time lost.

'He did look like Mr Manners' brother, Nick did. I didn't want to fall in love with him, but he was always there for us, he protected us from that bully by taking the pain himself, he was so brave and patient when he got hurt, and so nice to me when he was so sad himself. He was in love with Miss Anne for months, you know, and quite unhappy about it. I wanted to make it good, but he warned me away. 'I don't do that with my colleagues,' he said, and Miss de Bourgh said that whilst Bob stuck to Fanny like a tick on a sheep, Nick and Simon traded girls like herders did sheep. I knew, but I just couldn't help myself! He is so good and so sweet, I still want him so much, even though he is not sad anymore. I think he just got over Miss de Bourgh really quickly once she got engaged. Or he is pretending he did, for how could he not love her, she is so beautiful and so very kind to him, to all of us.

Did you see how well he looked? How well-dressed, and still manly? Please don't be angry with me, I'm trying to get over him, I'm learning to read and write to get to know Frank. Nick said he is in love with me and I kind of always liked Frank, he is smart and kind and he did look at me in a certain way. More handsome than Nick, and I suppose not a philanderer. But he lives in Kent, and he is more like a grown-up boy, not a man.'

See, she was almost over Nick, and all by herself. Well, Elizabeth supposed Nick had assisted fate a little by spotting the boy's admiration and mentioning it.

'He sounds like a worthy man, Dora,' Georgiana observed calmly. 'Nick is very admirable, but I'm afraid Miss de Bourgh was right, he does have a reputation. Maybe your Frank is more the tick kind, only a lot better looking. Ticks, ugh.'

'Aren't they gross?' Dora replied, back to that special closeness girls in their second decade apparently all shared. 'I suppose that is taking Miss de Bourgh's simile a bit too far. Fancy Miss Anne being Mrs Manners when she returns. But it's high time, she's twenty five already. And Mr Manners is such an admirable man, I told her he was bossy but she said he wasn't to her. And he isn't, he must truly love her. Poor Nick, though he didn't have a chance to begin with. Is he very unhappy, do you think? He is so smart, he can read and write and he doesn't use bad words anymore and talks like the mistress does and like you do.'

Georgiana was still very patient, and replied calmly, 'I don't think Nick is unhappy, no, I'd say he has found his place here. And I am certain you will be much happier soon. Did you already write to your friend Frank?'

'Nick did most of the writing the first time, but he says next time I can do it myself. He says Frank will certainly return a letter. Frank can write very well, he is very smart.'

Suddenly she sat up, expression no longer sad but shy once again.

'Thank you so much for listening to me, ma'am, I suppose I needed that. But you need to go to the wedding, too, I hope I haven't ruined your dress crying.'

'Never mind, Dora, it's just a tiny wedding among friends, and it's always cold in church so I'll wear a shawl anyway. But I don't think my dress got wet at all, you cry very neatly. Now don't hesitate to let me know if there is something I can do to make things easier on you.'

Dora nodded, and Elizabeth could see the moment had passed, Dora was back to the maid, and Georgiana her mistress.

'Thank you, ma'am. I hope all goes well in church but I suppose it will.'

And when they left to meet their gentlemen in the hall, Dora was still clearing up her materials, in a much better mood as far as Elizabeth could see.


	135. Chapter 135

Chapter 145

When Elizabeth and Georgie came rushing down the stairs as fast as their dresses allowed, Darcy could barely wonder why they were so late. He was first and mostly taken by his beloved's presence. Though most people would consider Anne more beautiful, and his cousin certainly had the intelligence and humour to make her even more attractive, there was something about Elizabeth that was totally unique. And it wasn't just his love for her making her seem so special, others felt it, too.

But why were they so late? Anne and her three men had passed by at least fifteen minutes ago, and though Bob could easily make up for the time, both Fielding and himself had other things to do than wait for their beautiful ladies.

'Sorry Fitzwilliam, sorry Eric, we were kept for a few moments,' Georgie said, then softer, 'Dora was a little out of sorts, we had a little talk. She's much better now, and Bob likes to drive fast, doesn't he?'

Dear Georgie, talking to a servant with, most likely, man trouble. Dora's infatuation with Nick was common knowledge by now, somehow such gossip filtered through the servants' quarters to make its way to the master of the house, in this case via a certain stable hand, whereas he used to hear it from Simon or Fanny. Come to think of it, that was only the last year or so, before that he hadn't known and he hadn't cared.

'He certainly does. We'll be there in time, don't worry. You both look very beautiful. I'm afraid Fielding and I can no longer compete with the other gentlemen, though, especially Manners' younger brother looked ravishing. And they smelled so nice, whereas a little bird told me several times that I tend to smell vaguely of horse. Do you suppose I need a new valet?'

Georgie knew he was joking and so did Elizabeth, but she took his arm and walked towards the carriage with him.

'That would only feed your vanity, my love, you're handsome enough for two, and you know it. You have to let the other men have their moments, too, they are the grooms today, you know, all of them, it wouldn't do to outshine them. But Dora did get a little shock seeing the younger Manners brother. He will need every advantage he can get, can you imagine what it must be like to see the woman you love marry another man?'

Fielding obviously could, he'd been in a similar situation, but he would not have stood by to watch, he would have yielded and fled to the continent. That hadn't been a matter of courage but of principle and propriety, though Fielding wasn't a fighter he was brave enough. Fowler was more obviously a brave man, with his fighting skills and his brawn, he would watch his beloved marry another but only because he could forgive himself for sleeping with another man's wife. He had been doing it for years and years, after all. But never before with the husband's consent, at least, not as far as Darcy could imagine.

'I have had my moments of jealousy, as you well know. But always without reason. All right, I admit Fowler will probably suffer somewhat, but you have to admit he gains much more. Anne is not only his superior in fortune, birth and education, but also in looks.'

'But not in devotion, Fitzwilliam,' Georgie observed shrewdly. 'Can you imagine what it must be like to be loved unconditionally by a man who has been chased by women for at least ten years?'

'I know what it is like to be that man, although I never let myself be caught. But you are right, after what Anne has been through she'd be looking for true affection, not for status. Besides, she'll have that, too. And rightfully so, she deserves it. I admit they have a very good chance of pulling this off, and I admit Fowler has reason to feel in need of some dressing up to pull through the coming hours.'

And with Bob keeping the horses at a steady trot, they reached the church in less than five minutes, Manners' carriage already there, of course, and no others, not even uncle Spencer's. This was going to be the most private wedding Darcy had ever attended, and there was not going to be a party afterwards.

During their drive to church they were all rather quiet. Frederick had tossed the whisky back on purpose, he expected the strong liquor taken so quickly to result in a pleasant haze, he rarely drank more than two glasses of brandy on a single evening and the whisky was a good deal stronger. And he expected to need the mood lifter since neither of them was looking forward to what was coming. But frankly, he didn't feel that much better with the booze.

'I'm glad we're keeping this small, Anne, it's much harder than I thought it would be.'

Anne merely nodded, as did the others.

For another five minutes they were silent, holding hands with their partner and waiting for the axe to fall. But when they crossed the bridge and turned towards Mr Eliot's church, Nick suddenly smiled, sat up straight and started to speak.

'All right, this is not going to work out at all. You did much better with an audience, when you announced your engagement. Frederick, you said we were going to be the best actors in the best play ever performed for a very select audience. And you, Anne, said we were going to throw a smashing party afterwards for the four of us. So I suggest all four of us buckle up and present ourselves as if we have an audience of reporters and admirers watching our every move. It's maybe an hour, and then it will all be over.

Anne, you are the most beautiful woman in the world and I love you. Now go get married.'

Simon smiled, and he meant it.

'Frederick, you are the love of my life. Now go get married.'

Somehow, that changed the mood entirely, and Frederick bowed outrageously while handing Anne out of the carriage. Simon and Nick followed easily enough, and they all started towards the church, where Mr Eliot was waiting.

'Miss de Bourgh, you look stunning. And Mr Manners, I didn't know you had a brother, the papers never mentioned it. Do you still plan to keep the ceremony as short as possible?'

What could he say about the clergyman's mistaken impression? Nothing would be best.

'We do, Mr Eliot. Thank you for your kindness. We're expecting Mr and Mrs Darcy and Mr and Mrs Fielding to arrive any moment, and then you may proceed.'

They had to wait ten minutes for the others to arrive, but there was plenty to see in the church, it was a beautiful old building made of local sandstone, small but well kept, and the Darcy pew was magnificent. It did look a bit out of place in the simple church, but he could understand why Darcy hadn't modernized it as he had modernized everything else: it would not have been appropriate, this was how his grandfather had designed the church, and that was how it should be. Simon and Nick took their places in the front, where the staff usually sat during service, and though Mr Eliot seemed about to direct them to the pew he decided not to.

Then the rest came in and to Frederick's immense surprise, Georgiana and Eric seated themselves right next to Simon, and Darcy and Elizabeth walked around the simple church bench to Nick's other side. It was much more appropriate to have their friends this close, and Mr Eliot seemed to recognise that instantly.

There would be no walk down the aisle and no giving away the bride, Frederick handed the rings to Mr Eliot, who then spoke his piece about being a good husband or wife. Well, Frederick would be the best husband he could be, and Anne certainly would present the perfect little wife to the outside world. He managed not to stumble on his words as he spoke his vows and only looked at Simon once right after, as he turned towards the clergyman to take the ring to put it on Anne's finger. Simon nodded his encouragement and winked.

Then Anne spoke her vows in her sweet clear voice, and slowly, Frederick started to feel good. They had pulled it off, the bachelor of bachelors had put his neck in the yoke of marriage, and London's beau monde would rejoice.

As her elegant little hand put the simple golden band on his finger, he felt elated, and he could see she felt the same. When they kissed, they both felt love, and Anne clung to him and whispered in his ear, 'That wasn't so bad, was it?'

And it hadn't been, she was sweet, and if he could have loved a woman she would have been the one. Mr Eliot congratulated them and the others came towards them, Nick and Simon last, of course, but not least. They were very polite, calling Anne Mrs Manners, but their eyes spoke volumes.

Traditions satisfied, they took leave of Mr Eliot and returned to their carriage, eager to be home. Though sitting in a carriage together wasn't a problem either, as soon as the carriage set in motion, Anne was in Nick's arms, and Frederick in Simon's. After an intense five minutes, they were back on the road to Pemberley and they sat up and checked their wedding clothes.

'Simon, Nick,' Anne said, 'we all got married today, not just the two of us. Which is why I hope you will accept these tokens of our unity.'

And, as Frederick had arranged, she took a little box from a storage compartment under the carriage seat, picked out a simple golden band, like their wedding rings, and handed the box to Frederick. He took the remaining slightly smaller ring, and together they put each on their real partner's hand, though on the middle finger. To do differently would give the impression of their being married, which too many people knew they weren't. But to Anne and Frederick they were, and the rings would always be the proof.

Of course this was an excellent reason for him and Simon to kiss, and they did with great fervour, Simon fighting tears but no less passionate for all that. Nick had kissed Anne as intimately, and to their utter surprise, he kissed Frederick and Simon as well. Not entirely as intimately, but nonetheless full on the lips. No longer could Simon keep his eyes from becoming slightly damp, and Anne saw and took him in a familiar embrace. Since Frederick had kissed them all by this time, he merely included himself and Nick in that embrace, and managed to hold all three of them against him at the same time. Then they had arrived, and they were back to newly-wed couple and personal servants.

This time, Bob had kept Darcy's carriage right behind Frederick's, and they all went into the house together. When they took off their coats in the hall, Georgiana asked, 'Will you drink coffee with us? I have something for you that I didn't dare give you in church.'

A knowing look passed from her to Elizabeth, and Frederick had an idea what they were going to give to the married couple. Well, a certain one of the newlyweds most likely, since the other could have little use for Pierre's exploits.

Anne looked at each of her companions in turn, and the others nodded as readily as Frederick did.

'We're coming with you, Georgiana. And thank you all for supporting us in church, it meant a lot to me to see you sitting beside Nick and Simon.'

'Oh, before I forget!' Elizabeth exclaimed suddenly, and she moved towards Simon, took his right hand and kissed him on the cheeks heartily. 'Congratulations to you, too, Simon.'

Then she lifted his hand, and admired his new ring.

'This is the same ring that Anne and Frederick have, isn't it? It's beautiful. I wish you all the best, Simon, we'll miss you very much but I'm glad you found the love you deserve.'

Dear Simon, no-one could make him shy like that except Darcy's lady. And so kind of Elizabeth to think of him. It would have made the wrong impression to congratulate him in the church.

'Thank you so much, Mrs Darcy. I will miss you, too, but we're still here for the summer.'

She did not like his formal address, but she knew it couldn't be helped. She had married into an important family and was supposed to be treated with respect by everyone below her.

As the others followed her example and congratulated Simon, Elizabeth turned to Nick, and kissed him as well!

'Congratulations, Nick. Do you have the same ring? Oh yes, it's beautiful. Marked by Frederick and Anne, well, I suppose you're all in it together now. Let's have coffee and then you can celebrate without reservations.'

Nick bowed in acknowledgement and said respectfully, 'Thank you, Mrs Darcy. And thank you so much for sitting with us in church, it made everything a lot easier on Simon and myself.'

'I've been in situations where I felt a bit left out, Nick, this must have been even harder. We were glad to be of help. Come, please sit down with the others, this time we will pour the coffee and slice the pie.'

And indeed, there were no servants about, they had just left the trays with coffee and pie on the large table. Frederick decided not to assist this time, he was the groom and needed to behave like one for this day. Imagine, he was actually married! To a woman! The most intelligent and beautiful woman he'd ever met, but still, a woman. Well, he'd always known he would, some day, and it had been decided by not just him, but three others. It had to be the right decision.

'Poor Frederick, he's totally overwhelmed,' Georgiana laughed. 'Better sit down and drink some coffee, Frederick. You'll feel much better. Besides, you'll need the support to receive our little gift.'

Well, he would. So he sat down beside Anne, Simon in the chair next to him. Nick was also sitting in a chair, though he did not look particularly comfortable there. And when Elizabeth indeed brought him a cup of coffee and a slice of pie he looked ready to flee, except he couldn't because his hostess sat down right next to him and laid a hand on his arm. Darcy brought her a cup of coffee and a slice of pie, then went back to the table for his own. No wait, he first picked up two more cups of coffee, one for Anne and one for Simon. This was the world upside down, and really funny.

'Are you pleased, Frederick?' a soft voice asked from behind him.

It was Georgiana, with a cup of coffee that she handed him. 'I do think you need a few moments. It's quite a thing, you know, getting married.'

Was her tone slightly patronizing? As an experienced married person to one new to the state?

Her face lighted up in a smile, and she handed him a slice of pie.

'You show your feelings so openly these days, Frederick, when you used to be so inscrutable. Even among friends, I know why you chose to be merely very affable in company. And I'm glad you really thought I was talking down to you because I have been married for weeks instead of hours. Fanny did that, you know, the one day she could, I thought it was hilariously funny.'

'You may always patronize me, Georgiana, especially where, let's say, womanly things are concerned. I have so little experience with the fair sex, I'm afraid I might insult my wife without even being aware of it. Or waltz over her feelings with my college-boys bravura.'

'I'm not afraid of that at all, Frederick, you're not half as tough as you think. Look how well you handled her monthly problem, even before you fetched Nick. Though his idea to use woollen underwear was fabulous, it helps a lot with the riding skirts, too. Nick is used to pleasing ladies, he knows them, and on top of that he practically raised two spoiled girls. And if both of you were to blunder there is still Simon, who has younger sisters and helped to raise me. But if you need a woman's advice, of course you can come to me, I'll be glad to offer an opinion any day.'

'Thank you, that is all I would ask. The coffee is just right.'

'We've known each other for quite some time already, Frederick, I know how you take it. Now let me fetch your present, so you can start your private party.'

Did she know something he didn't, alluding to a party?

When everyone was seated and had coffee and pie, Georgiana rose, holding a gift-wrapped book.

'You probably already know what this is, and I'm going to need it back for a few weeks after you've read it, to have it copied. But it has worked its way into our wit so steadily that I would not want to deprive any of you of the chance to improve your minds. Enjoy, Anne.'

And she handed Anne the book. The wrapping was removed and indeed, it was Pierre's travels. Frederick could not wait to read it, though he expected to find little new information in it. Pierre's tastes ran to women, and though their minds and hearts had been an absolute mystery to Frederick for as long as he could remember, his friends' escapades had taught him what loving them was like. Well, frankly, what having sex with them was like. Much love hadn't been involved in what they did, nor had Pierre known real love, even if he had been a living man instead of a fictional character.

'Thank you Georgiana. I appreciate your giving it to me, and I cannot wait to read it, but I can return it afterwards. I suppose I have Pierre's real-live counterpart to improve my mind in person.'

Anne was right and Georgiana knew it, but still she looked doubtful. At first.

'Just read it first. If you like it we can have it copied. If you have any tales to add, please meet me in the new confidence room some day soon.'

And the laughs she got were not merely polite, they were sincere.

Anne was glad to finally be able to read what Pierre's exploits were all about, but she couldn't help but think she'd rather have read the exploits of Pierre's female counterpart: she wanted to learn about ways to please a man, not a woman. Though maybe Pierre offered those, too, the book had likely been written by a man.

And then the coffee and pie were finished, and she wanted to be alone with Nick and the other two. Would they accommodate her and for once let go of their barriers, be they gentlemanly control or a servant's humility, to talk intimately and show each other their true self?

At some unspoken signal they all rose and took their leave.

'I suppose you'll have your dinner upstairs?' Elizabeth asked.

She didn't think of that, Nick and Simon couldn't fetch it, she was planning for them to be dead drunk by that time. Would they even want dinner?

'Shall I send someone to lay out some cold meat and bread in your headquarters? Then you can fetch it whenever you want.'

Of course she knew what Anne was planning, Mrs Reynolds would have briefed her on the bottle of brandy.

'Yes, please, Elizabeth. Thank you.'

'Enjoy your time together, all four of you.'

'Your lady wife is already taking charge, Frederick,' Eric joked, and it certainly seemed that way. Frederick directed a ravishing smile towards Anne, making the resemblance between him and Nick even more striking, then replied, 'It will save me a world of trouble. And once she starts on my finances it'll save a lot, too, for who could ever bargain with such a ravishing beauty?'

For a moment it was almost as if he did love her, but she knew he was a superb actor. Hopefully she could get him to let go of his act for a few hours tonight, Nick needed to really see the human being behind the powerful gentleman.

As soon as they got to Anne's room, she and Frederick through her door and Simon and Nick through Nick's door, just in case, Simon put two glasses on the table. Anne was stunned, how had he he known her intent, she didn't tell him.

'Mrs Reynolds asked me what a lady would do with a whole bottle of brandy. We thought we'd provide extra glasses.'

See, that was how easy it was to give something away.

As they settled in the sitting area close to her hearth, Anne picked up the brandy bottle and the two glasses that had come with it, setting both on the table. Then she sat down next to Nick, whilst Simon opened the bottle and poured brandy in all four glasses. He handed one to each of them, and said, 'To love and friendship.'

They all returned his toast and drank the brandy, Anne sipping carefully for she had only had some before at Fitzwilliam's army camp and she hadn't particularly liked it. This was better, though, small wonder if one compared army stock to Darcy's personal supply. The men were much less careful, of course they'd had brandy before on a regular basis and they knew they liked it. Nick looked at Frederick in wonderment and observed, 'This is even better than your whiskey. I could get used to such a life!'

Frederick merely tossed back the drink and poured himself another.

'I know it's a waste of excellent brandy, but I'm finally among people I love and trust so much I dare risk talking too much. I feel like indulging. No offence, Anne, but would you mind if I fetched my bottle of whisky? This brandy is excellent, but it's so sweet I'd be nauseous before I managed to become vaguely tipsy.'

Anne didn't have a clue about liquor, she'd just requested brandy because she thought Nick liked it.

'Of course not, Frederick. I'm glad you feel safe with us, drink anything you like.'

Nick had finished his brandy, as had Simon, and they refilled their glasses. Frederick tossed back his second glass, then left the room.

'I've never seen him like this,' Simon said, slightly worried. 'He seems reckless. I hope he won't do anything foolish.'

'Don't worry, Simon, I don't think I can toss away brandy like that, so I guess I will keep an eye on him. I'll drink just enough to feel slightly fuzzy and pleasant. Like that time we went dancing, Nick, we drank watered ale but I drank it as if it was water. Which it most certainly wasn't.'

'That night, Anne, it's etched in my memory. Such a perfect blend of sweet and bitter, to love you and hold you and yet know we were not meant to be together. I loved you so much then, but I do think I love you even more now.'

And he tossed back his brandy as if it was nothing. Anne tried a large sip, and though it burned a little, it was all right.

When Frederick returned with not one, but two bottles of whisky, and a totally different bottle as well, they were all rather bonelessly relaxed already.

'I've brought you something you might find more palatable, Anne. I know you must think I'm a drunk, with so much spirits in my private rooms, but I tend to carry a bottle or two for special occasions. This is an excellent white wine that you may prefer to the brandy, it's not too sweet.'

He'd remembered she didn't like sweet things! That was so heartening. As was the wine, it was much more to her taste than the brandy. While she sipped the wine, the men went through a bottle of whisky in what seemed too short a time. At first they talked about the wedding itself, the service, their friends' kindness to disregard station by sitting next to a pair of servants, how they had dressed up for an event they hadn't enjoyed and hadn't even expected to enjoy.

'You couldn't have done less, Frederick, despite the occasion being for friends only, people would have found out and talked.'

'You say Mr Eliot gossips, Simon?'

'Not Mr Eliot, no, but I saw at least three villagers about when we arrived, which means at least five people saw us, some don't watch openly, you know. And the warden of Mr Eliot's church is not exactly a man of high principles. In short, he likes to gossip. If you'd worn your daily attire he'd have told everyone in the surrounding villages, and they'd wonder why. Now, they'll only be outraged by Anne wearing split skirts.'

That could not be true. What did villagers care in what clothes someone got married?

By now, Anne was starting to feel pleasantly fuzzy, and she felt like snuggling a little with Nick. She sat on his lap and was received with an ardent kiss with very strong taste. If that was whisky she did not particularly like it, though maybe it was better than the brandy. She didn't doubt it was much, much stronger, and Nick's self-satisfied look more or less proved he was more than a little intoxicated. Had he ever looked this relaxed before? Did that mean he was always was a bit tense, even when there was just the two of them, even at night, after making love?

Simon caught her eye and gestured to sit next to him, did she show her consternation that clearly? She did not want to leave Nick, not even for a minute, but right then he addressed Frederick in a lazy voice that seemed to fit his mood perfectly.

'That was a lot less agonizing than I expected, Frederick. Thank you for being so considerate.'

Anne got up and sat next to Simon, she wanted Nick to talk to Frederick after all, without restraint and that also meant without her. Frederick bent forward to catch anything Nick had to say, but with Simon's attention now on Anne, he soon got up as well and moved to the chair next to Nick, filling all their glasses once more before settling against the back rest.

Simon now snuggled against Anne, he'd also had his share of the liquor, and asked, 'Why the face, Anne, are you sorry to have married us?'

Certainly not, but he didn't mean it, it was just his way to invite her to speak her mind.

'It's Nick, look at him, I've never seen him so totally relaxed. Does that mean he is always tense? Even when he is alone with me? Even after making love?'

Simon took a good look at Nick before replying, and in the silence they could hear Nick saying, 'I don't know, Frederick, I certainly didn't use to be. I'm sure my parents thought I was heading for the gallows by the time I was fifteen.'

Then Simon replied, and Anne could no longer hear what Nick and Frederick were talking about, but that was good, that was what she thought Nick needed.

'It's the whisky, Anne, it has nothing to do with you. I'm sure Nick is altogether himself with you, especially right after making love. He didn't have the chance to tell you, yet, but I found him this morning lying on his own cot, without a thread on him, smelling into high heaven. At first I thought he was drunk, that's how much you relaxed him.'

'Tired him out, more likely. We forgot the protections, he was very upset. He was upset afterwards, of course, but he forgot them because he was upset to start with, anxious over the wedding.'

'Do you mind very much? Are you afraid to get with child?'

'I know it would be inconvenient and I don't mind using the precautions, but I'm not seventeen like Georgiana, if I want to have children maybe I should be pleased to get a baby while I can. I'm not from a prolific family, like Elizabeth. So, no, I'm not afraid. What happens, happens.'

'And you thought that before you drank two glasses of wine, I can see it. Good.'

'How did you feel this morning, in church, Simon? Was it bearable?'

'No problem at all, Anne. Remember, I always knew Frederick would have to get married some day. I'm merely glad he has a wife who won't fall in love with him and who knows his secret and guards it. Imagine if he had married some ignorant girl who couldn't know. The endless lies and deceit, it wears one down, you know.'

She nodded, somehow things were so much clearer after a few glasses of wine.

'Unless it's in a good way,' he added mysteriously.

Deceit in a good way? Anne didn't understand, but of course compared to Simon she was incredibly naïve. She didn't even have to ask, Simon was in a talkative mood, and he was still sipping from the glass Frederick topped off a few minutes ago.

'Well, you see, sometimes secrets are incredible fun. For instance, did you know that your mother's staff have a drawing-room of their own hidden in the servants' quarters? It looks exactly like Earl Compton's drawing-room in London, except maybe twice as large. They have a piano, and all kinds of liquor, even a billiards table. Those servants not on duty amuse themselves as if they're gentle folks, they even serve pastries.'

Anne could not believe what Simon had just told her, but her head was not too fuzzy to realise it was the absolute truth. No wonder he never drank spirits, they made him incredibly talkative!

'For how long has it been there?'

'I've been coming to Rosings with Mr Darcy for ten years, and they let me in on my first visit. I suppose they liked me a lot. They didn't have the piano then, nor the billiards table. Your mother's steward is in on it, of course, they couldn't hide it from him, not and serve liquor and pastries.'

It was just incredible!

'And Dora, did she know?'

'She most certainly did, though I cannot remember meeting her there.'

'Then how do you know?'

'Nick told me she led him there. I'd told him Rosings was more fun in the back of the house, but didn't tell him why. Dora introduced him straight away, that's how I knew she was in love with him.'

'Nick knew, and he didn't tell me?'

'Of course not, that would have been an unforgivable breach of trust and he knows it. It didn't hurt you not to know. Mr Darcy doesn't.'

'You kept this a secret for ten years, and now you tell me?'

'Of course, we're married, aren't we? I cannot keep secrets from my wife.'

Simon was enjoying himself hugely, but Anne feared he would regret telling her tomorrow. It was up to her to make certain he didn't.

'I understand why no-one told me, or Darcy. But... surely Mrs Jenkinson didn't know.'

'Oh yes she did. She used to regret not having an instrument, she loved to play for the others. According to Nick and Dora they moved in the one from her room, too bad she will never get to play it.'

Somehow it was a small consolation that Mrs Jenkinson had at least had a little time with people who cared about her, making her time at Rosings bearable. In hindsight, the poor lady had had such a terrible life with Anne and her mother. As had Dora. Fortunately, they'd had something to laugh about.

'It's incredibly funny, isn't it? Mother belittling the staff, then sitting all by herself, while they enjoy each other's company. I'm glad you told me, Simon, and I'll keep the secret as faithfully as you've kept it. Did you tell Frederick?'

'Of course not, and I'm going to try not to. It is none of my business to tell him. It's your mother's house, you have some right to know. I was so right to never drink more than one glass of spirits!'

'Well, if I come into my inheritance tomorrow I'll let them keep their drawing-room, but I want to be invited for concerts. Or should I pretend not to know?'

'I'll know tomorrow. Right now, I don't know anything, just that I love sitting here with you, just talking. Or would you rather be reading your new book with your lover?'

'I don't think Pierre will help me with what I truly want to learn, though I am curious.'

'And you've made me curious, what do you want to learn?'

'Well, this is kind of embarrassing to talk about, but you see, Pierre is a man, and he loves women. So I guess the book is filled with ways to please a woman. Which was great for Darcy and Eric, who had everything to learn. But Nick already knows all that, whilst I am the one lacking experience. What I need is a book about different ways to please a man.'

Whereas smiling made Nick handsomer, Simon was so beautiful a broad grin could not add to his looks. In fact, it made him look a little fiendish, which in a way was very becoming, too.

'My dearest Anne,' he started in a drawl. She had most likely missed something important, though she had no clue what. 'Who do you think knows more about pleasing a man, a man or a woman?'

'A man, but he's not going to write about...'

Simon hushed her with a gesture that would have been rude if they hadn't both been rather intoxicated. Still grinning, he said, 'Who is talking about writing? And can you imagine someone who'd know even more about pleasing a man than a man?'

Well, no. Maybe that was the wine speaking, but she really didn't.

'Think Anne! You're smart, you found out about Frederick and me with maybe three clues. You think and I'll have some more whisky.'

Anne did try to think, she couldn't stand not knowing, it had to be incredibly simple or Simon would not have rubbed it in. Though he did compliment her at the same time, for she had found out about them when she hadn't known a man could love... a man! That was it!

'It's a man accustomed to sharing his sheets with a man! Trying things he'd like himself, improving on things his partner did because he can imagine what it would be like. Of course one would learn much more from a partner who feels more or less the same as oneself!'

That gained her a hug and a kiss, he smelled good as well, slightly different from Frederick, and if Anne wasn't mistaken they had given Nick some of their cologne as well. After the kiss, he sat back in triumph.

'So, what would you like to know about pleasing a man? Do you want him to buckle? Do you want him to shudder, squeal or beg for more? Or do you want him to last longer, to keep him at as high a level of ardour as you can without allowing him a climax?'

Well, that was easy.

'All of it. I have time, my bottle is still half full, and you three have another one. Although, look, it's already half empty! They are drinking away at twice the speed you are, Simon, isn't that dangerous?'

Simon looked at both Frederick and Nick, then observed, 'I don't think so, Anne. They're both of a heavier build than I am, and Frederick at least drinks spirits regularly, not a lot, but he does it almost every night. I don't think Nick does, but he can handle his drink, I can see that, look how much energy he has. I rarely drink and I'm slight, so I can handle much less and I know it. Don't worry, we'll have a solid dinner and have them drink something bland with it, like tea with cream. All will be well. Now, let's start with the buckling...'


	136. Chapter 136

Chapter 146

Nick could not remember being this relaxed, who would have thought it this morning? Was it just the booze or was he finally starting to trust Mr Frederick Manners? After Nick's well-meant expression of gratitude towards Frederick he hadn't even been disappointed with Anne moving to Simon's side, they'd be together in their lovely soft bed soon enough. Frederick sat beside Nick and observed, 'I'm very glad it wasn't painful for you, Nick. I'm happy to have formalized our agreement, I cannot deny that, but neither can I say I enjoyed the occasion as I thought I'd have, I'm glad we didn't have a large wedding. That would have been agony, for all of us.'

Nodding in acknowledgement Nick nevertheless thought this should be it, it was done, they'd talked about it, time to leave the wedding behind them. But despite his newly found trust, he didn't dare change the subject as he wanted to.

'Please don't do it, Nick, don't restrain yourself again because I am supposedly above you. How come you seduced countless ladies, and are totally familiar with Anne, who tells me she wasn't even nice to you at first, and yet still seem to fear me? I've never been anything but kind to you, have I?'

Even in his current boneless state Nick still had to fight a certain urge to bow or make an excuse for himself. And obviously he didn't succeed all that well, for in his own state of intoxication, Frederick's self-control failed him and he clearly showed his hurt.

'I'm sorry, Frederick, I do know you're trying and I appreciate it, but it's so strong. I can relate to ladies, but whenever I see an influential gentleman I feel so small. I don't choose to be deferential, it seems some kind of reflex, it just happens.'

'Have you always been deferential? Even as a child? Where did that come from?'

'I don't know, Frederick, I certainly didn't use to be. I'm sure my parents thought I was heading for the gallows by the time I was fifteen.'

A questioning look.

'That is not entirely true, though I did commit some hanging offences: breaking into houses, standing watch for burglars. But my parents never suspected a thing. I didn't have much respect for anyone then, I don't know what happened. I suppose it started during my first service.'

And he told Frederick what he'd told Eric a few days ago, how he'd been terrified by his criminal neighbours just disappearing and had taken service with a wealthy family as night guard. How the lady of the house had seduced him and started his near-endless chain of conquests.

'Did your master do something to you as well? For you understand your mistress did in fact misuse you?'

He'd suspected she had, and now Frederick confirmed it. He had never protested what his mistress did, but he'd never asked for it either. And though he had liked her attentions, he could not have refused his mistress even if he hadn't, not at a mere sixteen years of age.

'I don't think her husband ever found out, or maybe when the baby was born. The master looked nothing like me. But he never confronted me with it. In hindsight I don't think it was a good first position, it was not really a task for a young boy, staying up all night, prepared to face burglars with only a cudgel. Maybe they didn't realise how young I was, I looked much like I do now, you see.'

One look proved Frederick did not believe that at all.

'Sixteen is sixteen, Nick. I totally agree with you that is too young to bear responsibility for a business, no matter how good a fighter you are. How did that make you feel?'

Nick could not remember anyone ever asking how he felt about something. Anne did, of course, or didn't need to because he told her without her having to ask. But Frederick really cared, and that made Nick feel very good, on top of the comfortable fuzziness of the booze.

'I was often afraid and lonely, and despite my bearing such responsibility my master treated me with condescension. Of course once I did his wife his arrogance couldn't hurt me anymore. I don't think I ever felt awed by him, he never inspired respect in me because I rarely met him, never got the chance to admire him for his capabilities. I wasn't sad to leave, but there was no trauma involved, I chose to do that myself.'

'So that is not where you lost your self-respect, though you could have. It's a very sensitive time in your life, and to be forced to live at night, all by yourself, that cannot have been easy. So where do you think you got such a respect for men of rank?'

'Most of the households I lived in expected me to be very respectful towards the higher-ranked staff and of course the master of the household. The staff always knew of my secondary activities and generally that got me acclaim, but somehow there always was at least one bully in each house. It was always a matter of knowing whom to trust. Maybe I hadn't enough of a private life to recognise how distorted my views of the people around me had become, bowing and scraping where once I had been totally self reliant. But only towards the men, women always liked me. When Anne treated me with condescension I thought it quite funny, somehow I never felt hurt or insulted by her arrogance. Maybe we had an instant connection. Though if I'd first met her when she was so beautiful already I'd never have dared talk to her or tease her. It's as if beauty creates an immediate distance.'

'I remember first seeing Simon at Netherfield. I think I fell in love instantly, but I didn't know he was like me, I sought him out just to be able to gaze at him. Then one day he made the first move, brave fellow, though I supposed he'd looked right through me.'

'You do show your feelings sometimes, Frederick, where Simon is concerned. I can imagine he suspected you were attracted to him, but still he was very brave to let you know.'

By now, their glasses were empty, and Frederick refilled them from the second bottle of whisky. Nick was starting to get rather drunk, but he felt Anne was right, without the booze he would never get over his habit of bowing and scraping, it was so ingrained by now it would probably return as soon as he was back to sobriety. He still had a lot to learn. But Anne also wanted Nick to get to know Frederick, and so far Frederick had only shown an interest in Nick, he had not told much of himself. But Nick didn't have to think of questions to ask, for his last remark triggered something in the man beside him, who for the first time in his life had drunk enough spirits to truly lose control over his feelings.

'Those feelings you have so rightfully pointed out to me, Nick, are just the tip of the iceberg. We may look alike, and seem to have more or less the same character, you know, bossy, born leader, except that yours was suppressed by circumstances, making you much too deferential, and mine was encouraged by an early independence after having learned to be strong to survive. My character was shaped by my life just as much as yours. The first seven years of my life were likely happier than yours, for of course my parents lacked nothing and I was an only child, loved by my mother but never spoiled. But then I was sent to school and everything changed. For I was a sensitive child, easily frightened and eager to share my feelings. Big mistake. I suffered until I found out I was tall for my age and very, very strong. I learned to lead to survive, I didn't have the natural inclination. By the time I was allowed to go home for Christmas, my mother had passed away, and comfort was nowhere to be had. I just squashed my feelings, I knew I could never show them again, and adapted totally to life among my peers, making allies, taking care of those who were talented but weaker than I, and so I became the man I have been for most of my life: popular, familiar, everyone's favourite, but still utterly alone. So you see, I'm as much a slave to my past as you are.'

'But you can be yourself with Simon, can't you?'

'I can now, but it took him a while to break my protective shell, he was as much at a disadvantage as you have been. He, too, had been brought up in servitude, and he took too much crap from me. We didn't see each other all that often at first, you know, with him in the back and me in the front of the house. Of course it's much better now, but it took time. And I understand now that you need time as well. I wanted you to like me, I felt hurt when you didn't respond to my overtures, but that was my problem and I tried to make it yours. If you'd stepped outside yourself to please me you'd have been in trouble with Darcy or Elizabeth. Your way is much better, I see that now.'

Nick nodded, though he doubted that Frederick wasn't really self-assured and bossy. Maybe it started as an act, but it had become habit, and now he had become so formidable that Nick couldn't think of anyone besides Mr and Mrs Darcy who would dare gainsay him. Still, despite the thick haze of drunkenness, Nick realised that Simon and Anne also had a lot of influence on Frederick, and that from now on he was included in that group. He might never dare impose on the respected gentleman, though he could, but he would treat him as a friend and be careful not to hurt his feelings. Frederick might be adept at hiding those, he had entrusted Nick with knowledge few other people had of him, and Nick would use that knowledge to enable himself to treat his new friend with familiarity and cause him no more pain.

As the level of whiskey in the bottle dropped, their talk became ever more intimate, and by the time Anne urged them to move to their headquarters for some dinner, they were totally comfortable together, and ready to share almost every aspect of their lives.

Though it was strange to have the wedded couple disappear straight after coffee, Darcy did understand why they'd do so. And it was a perfect opportunity to go riding with Georgie and Fielding, they were ready to leave the riding paddock by now, their horses were so gentle, and Darcy would take the black instead of a hunter, nothing could go wrong. Though a little reluctantly, both pianists did agree to accompany them, and soon they were on their way across the bridge, towards a quaint village Elizabeth wanted to see again. It was not very far and the paths leading there should be very beautiful, with plenty of dry stretches to make a little speed. Not too much, just a little canter across a level field and through a straight lane.

Darcy took the lead, the path he was planning to take was one he hadn't used very often before Lady Drummond's excellent example: he had usually taken the road or the broader paths, but he had enjoyed the scenery of the moors so much he was planning to explore his own grounds more thoroughly, hoping to find even more scenic spots to show their visitors come April, but also the Lady and the Colonel should they ever visit. The letter to the Colonel had not been sent, yet, though it was largely finished. But he wanted to add his experiences with riding a side-saddle, and he had not dared face doing that yet. Not out of fear to fall off, he knew he could stay seated. No, he had to admit he was afraid to make a spectacle of himself. It was so unconventional to ride a horse as if he was a woman. Of course he would do it, but maybe he could at least use a less embarrassing horse than placid Daisy?

Georgie and Fielding were not yet up to chatting while they were riding, but they certainly were enjoying themselves riding through the brushes, now budding ferociously, some early species already blooming. There were no bees about, at least Darcy didn't see them, so why did those trees and bushes take the trouble? His gardeners probably knew.

Trusting his sense of direction, Darcy took a narrow path to the right, up a hill but not steeply, hopefully it would stay that way. There were some hoofprints visible where the rock was covered with soil, a horse had been ridden over this hill before, and the climb to the top should be worth the trouble since he expected the view to be spectacular. If he was right, they'd see the river winding through a mostly cultivated valley with small-scale tilled fields, orchards and meadows, and a picturesque village with a bridge where they could cross the river.

The hill was thickly grown with trees and brush, and indeed, once they topped it the trees thinned until they had the exact view Darcy expected. To heighten its impact he stopped so the others could take their time admiring it.

'That is the most beautiful view I ever saw,' Georgiana sighed, 'and it's right here, where I grew up. Though I suppose I'll see some spectacular ones when we go to the continent.'

'I don't know, Georgiana,' Fielding commented. 'I've seen quite a lot of beautiful places, rough mountains, Medieval cities, the Danube valley and Vienna, endless Lower Country river plains with intricate cloud formations over them, but I suppose there is no place like good old England.'

Since Darcy preferred not to think of his sister so far away across the North Sea, he asked, 'Shall we gallop down this large field until we reach the road over there? Then we can cross the river in that quaint village and try to find another trail to follow to our destiny.'

They all assented, though Fielding and Georgie did look a little fearful, but Daisy and Fielding's horse were truly very easy-going, they would never misbehave. The new riders seemed to understand that, and off they went, Elizabeth first this time, though not too fast for the others to keep up.

The road they continued on was broad enough to ride in pairs, and Darcy ended up next to Fielding, with Elizabeth and Georgie in front of them. The horses were not ready to slow down, so they stayed in a canter until they reached the village, where Elizabeth slowed down to a walk, admiring the cottages with their wood-rail fences and perfectly trimmed hedges, laundry bobbing on washing lines, chickens pecking at the side of the road, fruit trees in the front yards either in bloom or about to bloom.

The hired maid Pauline didn't plan to live a small life in one of these neat cottages, the curtains starched and ironed, the front steps scrubbed to a sheen, the vegetable garden ready for seeding or planting from the tiny propagators most households had built from wood scraps and broken window panes to allow for early planting of their favourite vegetables.

No sir! Pauline would try to find a place in her landlord's London house, completely unaware how lonely she'd be out there, feeling countrified and naïve among the hard-faced London serving maids. Maybe he should send her to town for a season, she'd either be happy to return and get married to a fresh-faced farmer's son, or some cooper or smith with a nice customer base, or she'd adapt and find a place to suit her in town. He'd planned to have Nathan test the sister, but he didn't think he should wait for the steward to return, he would be busy enough after a two-week absence. Darcy could probably do it himself, or maybe Georgie would like to visit the girl, she was ready for some responsible tasks.

'This is just beautiful, Darcy, I'm glad we came along, this will be such an inspiration for me. Though I know from experience that quaint small cottages can be really cold and uncomfortable in winter. My parents were always busy, taking care of the cows, feeding, lugging manure to the few good fields, planting, weeding, milking, grazing the cows on the moors, churning, making cheese, and after that, my mother still had to cook and clean and take care of her brood, though my sisters helped a lot. I was glad to escape, I loved my family and missed them terribly at first, but I wasn't cut out for life on the moors.'

'Have you ever written?'

'They didn't read, I sent a few letters through church but when the minister was transferred I lost touch. Also, Mr Zumpe didn't like it, and once I lived with them my original family seemed very far away, I hadn't seen them in ten years or more. Maybe I should write, one of my sisters or brothers may have learned to read. They may even have heard of my success, and be glad to receive a few words from me.'

Darcy nodded, it would be the right thing to do, though he couldn't imagine Fielding having anything in common with his birth mother and father, if they were even still alive.

'This is very pleasant, Darcy, everything is so beautiful and well-kept. I seem to remember our cottage being a lot less sturdy, though I was still very young. Do you choose the people living on your grounds?'

'Most families have lived here for generations, of course some leave the area to live somewhere else, mostly younger sons and occasionally a daughter. And some tenants die without leaving any children. Then my steward finds a new tenant, usually in concurrence with the minister or a village elder, which generally means a younger son or a daughter gets a chance to live in the village of her birth, without having to share the resources of one farm. One cannot do that too often, you know, or everybody will suffer poverty, and the land will be overgrazed or exhausted. Which is why my steward makes certain it doesn't happen. It can be hard for younger children not to be able to marry and get settled in their home village, but it would cause poverty and suffering.'

'I suppose that may have been the case with my parents. My father had too little land to keep all his children, I suppose he was glad to be rid of me. And my uncle lived really close. I suppose they split their father's land, and maybe he split his father's land.'

'They did own their own land?'

'I think they did, but maybe they didn't. I was seven when I left, and a rather self-involved little chap.'

By now they had crossed the bridge and were almost out of the village, and they stayed on the road until Darcy found a path leading in the right direction.

'Shall we chance this path, my dear?' he asked Elizabeth.

'Of course, if we get lost we can just return home, we'll find that village another time. Do you think Barley can already find his way home?'

'I suppose so, remember, Mrs Norman rode him for months before you saw him. He may know my grounds better than you do, you were here for just two weeks before I dragged you off to the city.'

But they did find the village that had been their destination, and after admiring the Medieval church and a little wilderness that seemed to have been dropped down right in the middle of excellent farm land, they returned over the road, Georgie and Fielding would be feeling their muscles, it was time to get them home.

While Elizabeth was unsaddling her Barley, handing the saddle and bridle to Peter whilst Hugo unsaddled Darcy's black, and Bruce and Bob took care of the other two horses, Darcy decided to take the plunge and ask Hugo about the side-saddle. If he didn't ride it he'd never live it down, and following a colonel's example could never be truly demeaning. But he had to try to up the stakes a bit.

'We advised Colonel Drummond of the Newcastle army camp to let his wife ride astride, Hugo,' he started, well, in fact Elizabeth had told Lady Drummond but that didn't matter to Hugo, 'and we also told him about Peter trying the side-saddle.'

Hugo's reaction was neutral, he was merely waiting for his master to come to the point.

'And now he writes to me he has done the same, as has his stable master. Frankly, it was a challenge, and it I do not take it I will be shamed. But I also feel ashamed to ride a faithful old plug like Daisy. Can't you put the side-saddle on my black for me to up pick up the Colonel's challenge with dignity?'

This time, Hugo did react, though dryly.

'I am not ready to face Mrs Darcy after having you killed, Mr Darcy. With all due respect, your black has not been trained to bear such a saddle, and the unfamiliar balance and excess movements from you would drive him out of his mind. I suppose Mrs Norman could train him to the side-saddle, but I am guessing you need to prove yourself to this colonel pretty soon? She'd take about three months to retrain your black, and all for half an hour? For who would want to ride a side-saddle a moment longer than that? It's very uncomfortable, I've tried and I did not appreciate my family jewels getting crushed against a very hard piece of horse tack.'

'You tried the saddle?'

'Like you, I was challenged, but in my case by my own stable boys. I could not refuse, and I showed them some. Though not on Daisy, seeing that she was with you at the time, on your horse that Mr Fielding is using now. But he's no match for your black, not since you took that one in hand and really started to ride him. I'm guessing Mrs Manners' grey has been trained side-saddle as well, that is as good a lady's horse as I ever saw. Mr Manners' stable master knows his horse-flesh, those horses are all sound and especially suited to their riders. The chestnut is like Daisy, calm and collected, but the black, Liquor Nick has called him, is quite a character. It would take a body guard to dare ride that one as his first horse. Though of course having Peter's instructions helps as well.'

Hugo's manner of speech indicated plenty of respect for Fowler, interesting.

'You say Liquor may be dangerous?'

'Not with Nick riding him, but I'd say he would be dangerous for either of the other new riders. Well, barring Mrs Manners, maybe, she is a natural and quite fearless, like your lady wife. But she looks much better on the grey, and I'm guessing that she will not want to stop riding in town, like your own lady, meaning she'll want to learn to sit a side-saddle eventually.'

Well, that only proved Hugo was very observant, which was what Darcy paid him for.

'I'll ask my cousin whether I can use her Peppermint to ride a side-saddle with dignity. Knowing you did, too, I'll feel less embarrassed.'

'Even Bruce did it, sir, which means you really cannot forgo.'

That did it. Now Darcy would ride that saddle if it lay on a cob. Bruce had only learned to ride this winter, if he dared do it, Darcy could not refuse. He would lose his staff's respect as well as Colonel Drummond's.

Three days later at breakfast, Elizabeth read the results of Anne's reporting skills and Eric's newspaper contacts. Well, and the efforts of several express riders, for how had they managed to get that message to London so quickly? The newly-weds had not come back to the drawing-room on their wedding day, and the next morning all of them, Anne not excepted, had looked much the worse for wear physically, but very close and totally familiar with each other. Nick had seemed totally at ease with Frederick from that moment on, and whatever they had done after the wedding had accomplished that.

Of course Anne had not hesitated to explain.

'I set them drunk for the first time in their lives, at least for Simon and Frederick, and we talked. A lot. Had I known intoxication would make me feel so miserable the next day I would have laid off the wine myself, though it was excellent wine, and Simon told me things that would have been too embarrassing to hear without its help. Very educational, though, if you feel your mind can use still more improvement than Pierre has been able to offer, I'd recommend asking him. By yourself. In private.'

Elizabeth had not asked her to explain, she could guess what Simon had told Anne about, and it was totally logical, who would know more about making love to a man than a man who was intimate with a man? Well, she might yet do it, but not just like that, she would wait for a special occasion, and it would indeed be very embarrassing. Back to the paper, where an article from Mr Goodfellow's hand was taking up a prime spot on the society page. The serious reporter would consider that a bit of an aggravation, but reporters had to make a living as well, and this piece of hot news really had no business anywhere else in the paper. And he did have the piece marked with his name, he was not that ashamed to print gossip.

Sorry ladies, he's taken.

News travels fast, especially good news. Though some of our maidens keen on making a perfect match will not be rejoicing to hear that our beloved master of ceremonies, Mr Frederick Manners, was joined in holy matrimony to Miss Anne de Bourgh two days ago, in the parish church belonging to Mr Darcy's Pemberley estate in Derbyshire.

Although the wedding was a very private affair, I have been able to establish a faithful representation of the ceremony, thanks to my extensive inside contacts. According to my source, the groom was dressed to London standards with his characteristic black cravat. The bride wore revolutionary flowing split skirts of the finest shimmering silk, combined with a frilly blouse of the clingiest muslin, cut to her elegant figure and adorned with mother-of-pearl buttons and a tiny bit of lace. Her hair was done up in a simple style, with blonde curls escaping wherever they could. Very artfully done.

The only people present besides the bride and groom were the new Mrs Manners' cousins, Mr Darcy and his wife, and Mrs Fielding and her talented husband. My source tells me there were two other gentlemen present, and one of them was obviously a relative of the groom since there was a striking family resemblance between the two, except the younger gentleman was more traditionally garbed. Of course we all know Mr Manners to be an only child, which means these two gentlemen are probably friends or distant relatives from the north, most likely Mr Manners'.

So, I'm very sorry, young ladies, another bachelor has been lost to you. But we all hope this very private wedding was merely the new couple's way to prevent having to invite a certain relative belonging to the bride, that Mr Manners will still be the man who is mentioned with respect and envy whenever a party is thrown in our beautiful capital.

Apparently they told Mr Goodfellow quite a bit, they could easily have kept silent about Nick and Simon. But maybe they wanted people to think Nick was a distant relative of Mr Manners, though Elizabeth thought enough people knew he wasn't to make that virtually impossible to pull off. Or maybe they planned to do that outside London, enough people read that newspaper outside the capital, and they didn't know about Nick.

When Fitzwilliam entered the breakfast room he looked excited, but Elizabeth didn't know why, they weren't planning anything special today, well, Frederick was going to join Sarah's riding lesson today but that wasn't exactly something for Fitzwilliam to be excited about.

'I'm going to redeem myself today,' he said, smiling. 'Colonel Drummond challenged me to ride a side-saddle, and Hugo told me he and even Bruce have done so on a dare from Peter, so I have asked Anne for the loan of her Peppermint and she agreed!'

'Why not just use Daisy, my love?'

He looked really pained, apparently Daisy was not good enough for a landowner. But he had originally bought her as a road horse for himself! And never used her, all right. But, Elizabeth had to agree, Peppermint was much better looking than Daisy, though not as beautiful as Barley. If Anne and Frederick were indeed going to the continent, they might send her to Colonel Drummond to use in his breeding program, she looked much like Cavort, a useful, sensible horse turned out a bit more beautiful than others.

'All right, all right, you use Peppermint. You would feel very embarrassed to ride such a small horse even if it were astride. And is Anne going to ride her lesson on your black?'

'Is something wrong with Peppermint?' Frederick asked, having just come in.

'No, Fitzwilliam is going to borrow her to ride side-saddle,' Elizabeth replied.

'She knows a side-saddle? Of course your stable master discovered that, despite his all-too-human side he has several extraordinary qualities. I can imagine your not wanting to use Daisy. Can I join you? I've always wanted to try, you ladies make it look so easy but I suspect it is rather difficult, and possibly painful.'

Fitzwilliam seemed rather eager to have Frederick join them, was he afraid to look ridiculous in front of the stable staff? All the men had done it themselves!

'Yes, please, Manners. I'd feel much better not to be the only one making a spectacle of himself.'

Well, at least he admitted to it.

Then Elizabeth pointed their attention towards the article, and Frederick said, 'Yes, we decided to sow a rumour that Nick is a distant relative of mine. Of course Mr Blackwood and his staff and your London staff know Nick isn't my relative, but they do not move in the exalted circles we plan to frequent. And besides, which gentleman ever looks beyond a livery to actually see the man wearing it?'

First they had their riding lesson, Frederick on his grey gelding, who was a perfect match to Anne's mare, and Elizabeth on her faithful Barley. Sarah was going to teach them a few advanced exercises, and Elizabeth was curious whether Frederick would be up to them.

The others had separated into two groups by now, those who wanted to practise playing the piano, Georgiana and Eric, and those who wanted to improve their riding, which were the remaining three. Peter was teaching them, and to spare her grey mare and gain some experience with a different horse, Anne was using Daisy. Fitzwilliam's black would have to wait a little longer, he was a little bit too fractious for a novice rider, even a promising one like Anne. Somehow, Frederick was a lot less careful with Nick, his black Liquor was almost as temperamented as Fitzwilliam's black, but Nick didn't seem to care much. He exuded self-confidence, and his strength and natural abilities gained him a lot of respect from the stable staff. And yet he was not rough with the horse, he did exactly what Peter suggested and had great results. His first ride outside the paddock had been more of a challenge, Liquor trying to disconcert him by breaking away from the group and shying at unfamiliar objects, but nothing seemed to faze Nick, he merely kept his seat and used the techniques Peter had taught him to take back control and direct Liquor where he wanted the horse to go.

But now Elizabeth needed to pay attention, this was going to be difficult and very tiring.

Frederick did not know what to expect from his lesson, he'd seen the others learn to ride but of course he knew how to ride a horse really well. Still, there was always something to learn, and this time would be no different.

As he followed Elizabeth's gelding at a sedate walk through the riding paddock, Mrs Norman walked to the middle and said, 'Good morning, Mr Manners, welcome to our advanced riding class.'

She said that with a certain kind of smile that proved she didn't take this quite as seriously as it seemed. Frederick had heard she was an independent spirit, despite her husband working for Darcy, and he appreciated that. She was reputed to be the best horseman in the neighbourhood, and it took a strong will to train hunters of the kind her father bred.

Coming towards him, she fell into pace with his horse and gave him some very useful advice on how to improve his posture, and complimented him on the way he kept in constant contact with the horse.

She asked, 'Have you ever ridden figures in a paddock, Mr Manners?' which he hadn't, and told her so.

'Then please follow Elizabeth until you recognise the names, most of them are pretty self-explanatory but not all.'

Elizabeth, no less! Small wonder she had plenty of confidence. But she was polite enough to Frederick, and she explained a few exercises, which he dutifully executed, following Elizabeth until he knew what he was supposed to do with which instruction. Mrs Norman called out tips and comments, and whenever he managed to follow her instructions he could immediately sense a difference in his horse. This really did work!

Then she had them do all those exercises at a trot. Frederick never trotted, it was just not comfortable so why do it? Soon, his legs started to ache, but since Elizabeth never faltered he was not going to, either. Next were instructions to follow the patterns she called, but this time each rider had his own instructions, sometimes riding side by side, then splitting to a different side, crossing each other's path, then back together. This was great fun but also hard work, he had to match his horse's stride to Barley's, and when they rode side by side the horse in the outermost lane had to move a lot faster than the inside one. And all of this still in a trot!

After some time they did find a certain rhythm, and for a few moments it was as if their horses were moving exactly the same. Well, wasn't that what carriage horses did, adapt their movements to each other?

'All right, that was enough for today. You are an excellent rider, Mr Manners, next time we'll start on the really difficult exercises, you're both ready. Maybe you'll want to join them, too, Mr Darcy? Peter has never taught you these, he's still working on perfecting them himself. As am I, it is a lifetime of practise, like your sister and brother-in-law.'

To Frederick's huge delight, Darcy was taken totally off guard, and he almost stammered an assent. Then he recuperated and observed, 'I'd love to, Mrs Norman, and I'd like to do some of those riding-together exercises, too. It seems like great fun!'

'They are. You can do them together, all of you, and have a group of six or eight. It's not too difficult for the novice riders, and it is a perfect way to become one with the horse.'

And that was their lesson, now he was going to ride a side-saddle and hope he wouldn't look like a complete fool without the pretty face and the matching dress that made women look so elegant and charming when riding like a lady.

Peter had dismissed his own class, and Simon and Nick looked as if they had been working as hard as he had. Anne looked as fresh as ever, she had come such a long way from the pale, drawn ghost of a girl she had been. Now she was a blooming woman in her prime, beautiful, healthy and full of energy.

'Will Peppermint mind if I try, too? And I think Nick wants to, even if he hasn't actually said so.'

Of course Nick would, he'd told Frederick all the Pemberley stable staff had tried themselves, and were looking forward to seeing their master following their example.

'If she gets fractious we'll put the saddle on Daisy or Mr Fielding's horse, Mrs Manners, they're both used to it,' Peter observed, 'you can all try.'

It was still a bit new to have Anne referred to as Mrs Manners, but the feeling of being married wasn't, somehow. They were all very comfortable with the situation as it was, it was just the name that took some getting used to.

With Peppermint waiting patiently, side-saddle in place, Darcy offered to go first.

'You've already had a lesson each, I'm ready to do some riding while you recuperate.'

Of course everyone agreed, Frederick was feeling his legs after so much trotting, but he was not going to back off if Anne and Nick were not.

With Peter holding the rein, Darcy used the stirrup to lift himself in the saddle, then swung over his leg to sit sideways.

'Try to keep your seat even, Mr Darcy,' Peter remarked calmly, 'as much on your right side as on your left. It can be difficult, but it's better for the horse.'

Darcy was letting his legs pull him slightly to his left, and he corrected readily, making Peppermint a lot more comfortable. Then he used his left leg to set the horse in motion, kind of brave, since he had never ridden Peppermint before. Nothing untoward happened, and he walked a few rounds, then tried to trot and gave up, then cantered. After about ten minutes he sat back, unhooked his right leg then slid to the ground.

'So, I did it, but it's very uncomfortable. I'm glad I tried. You look fabulous my love, in a riding habit on a saddle like this, but like Colonel Drummond said, it's like having his men charge running sideways. Unfair, and ridiculously dangerous. You try, Manners, and tell me what you think.'

So it was his turn next, of course, he was the experienced horseman of the remaining group. Peppermint was obviously very patient, as he put his left foot in the stirrup and mounted as he was used to. When his seat was nicely balanced, he swung his right leg over the horse's back, to be supported by the saddle on the left side. It felt wrong, and very unbalanced. Taking care to remain seated in the middle of the saddle, he settled his right leg as comfortably as possible, which was not very much so, then touched Peppermint's left flank with his heel. She ambled off in the direction he had in mind, and he did the same as Darcy had done, walking until he had the hang of that, then speeding up, finding the trot impossible to sit through in this position without his knees and ankles to take the upward motion of the horse. The canter was acceptable, to the left easier than to the right, because he kept feeling as if he'd fall off to the side where he had no leg to support himself. It was uncomfortable and it put a strain on his back that didn't seem healthy, though it hurt less in some places than he'd expected.

Instead of sliding down he unhooked his right leg and brought it back to the right, then dismounted as he'd do his own horse.

'I salute you, Elizabeth, for riding like this. It is rather difficult and it doesn't seem very safe at all. I totally agree with Darcy, it looks beautiful but it's not practical. Still, I'm glad I know now. Do you want to go next, Anne?'

'No, let Nick go first, I don't mind using one of the other horses if Peppermint objects to carrying four different people, none of whom have a clue what they are doing.'

So Nick did exactly what Frederick and Darcy had done, mount in the usual way, then move the right leg to the other side. He did not show any discomfort after having ridden an intense lesson just before, and he needed only the slightest help to sit in the middle of the saddle.

Making Peppermint move was harder for him, he had learned to ride only recently and he did not know the exact spot where to touch the horse to tell it to walk, maybe he mainly used his weight and posture to guide his own, or maybe his Liquor just liked to move a lot and didn't need much encouragement.

Still he got the hang of it and rode his circles, tried to trot and gave up, and with Peter's help he even managed a canter, on both sides. Then he dismounted and observed, 'That was more difficult than our whole riding lesson just now. But like you, Mr Manners, Mr Darcy, I'm glad I tried.'

And then Anne's turn had come, and she performed bravely and competently. She had the same amount of instruction Nick had, and dared try the canter. When she had dismounted she joined them, accepting their compliments graciously.

'I might say I'm glad I tried, but I know may have to get used to riding this way for part of the year. If I want to keep riding I will have to, no lady rides astride in town. Which is why the experience was different for me. I can feel the lack of balance, I see the danger, but I will have to think of ways to overcome them. But I know I'll look fabulous in one of those dresses, on this beautiful white horse, which may make up a little for the unfairness of it all.'

And that was all she said before she turned to Peppermint to thank her for her efforts.

Nick did not show any admiration, he was good at this! Of course, Frederick still had a lot to learn in that respect, but at this moment he didn't have to, he was allowed to show as much admiration for Anne as he felt, he was her husband and supposed to admire her. Fortunately that was easy, as Nick had said, Anne was stronger at heart than any of them, with what she had been through, and how she was always positive and took care of not one, but three men.

After their afternoon of drinking on their wedding day, Anne had made certain they all ate heartily and drank some tea or plain water. Then she'd told Frederick how she and Nick had accidentally forgotten their protections that morning. Remembering how nervous and affected Nick had been just before the wedding, Frederick had not been surprised, and they had talked a little about babies. Anne had made a strong case for not being sorry if she were to be with child, she was twenty five already after all. Frederick hadn't thought there was much chance of her getting with child from one little accident, and he hadn't cared at that time, not as drunk as he had been, and as thrilled at having had an intimate talk with Nick. And he still didn't care, it would be inconvenient but he was certain it would be great fun to have a child about the house.

'You must be thinking great thoughts, Frederick, you're terribly quiet,' she laughed, still petting the horse. 'Though they don't seem all that bad.'

He couldn't help smiling back, she made an incredible picture with the beautiful grey mare.

'I was thinking small thoughts, but precious ones. You're a heroine to me, Anne, I've never thought about the hardships facing women, I never thought much about women at all, I didn't know very many. But now I do know some of you, I realise you often have to be very strong, and it is barely recognised. Not by men, but I guess not by your own sex either.'

Anne released Peppermint to Peter and came straight towards him. She took his face in both her hands and kissed him full on his lips.

'I wouldn't call those thoughts small, Frederick, though they are indeed precious to me. Now, it seems to me we have forgotten someone. Simon, do you want to try the side-saddle? I think Peppermint is patient enough for one more lady.'

And indeed, Simon did want to try, and he did well enough for Frederick to have to take some trouble to keep his love and admiration from showing. But he managed, and soon after they all retreated to their rooms to change, and they had plenty of chance to celebrate their love.


	137. Chapter 137

Chapter 147

Fitzwilliam had postponed finishing his letter to Colonel Drummond until after he'd faced the older man's challenge. She knew he would have liked to do more to prove his mettle, the colonel had distinguished himself in the revolutionary wars in France, and Fitzwilliam might consider himself lacking in bravery compared to an army officer who had been on active duty five times. And riding was very likely the only field in which Fitzwilliam was more daring than the colonel. But there really was no need to prove anything, Fitzwilliam had responsibility to his tenants, and the colonel to his regiments, and they both had to discharge that responsibility as best they could. Why the need to be more daring than another man?

After reading the letter, which contained an invitation to both the colonel and his wife to visit during the hunting season, Elizabeth decided she'd go and see Mrs Reynolds to make the final arrangements for the tour of the house, March was coming to an end and the weather seemed to be warming daily. Soon people would start requesting to view the house, and while Mrs Reynolds loved to lead them around, she also liked to have her mistress' opinion on what to tell them and what not.

Expecting to find the housekeeper in the common-room, Elizabeth made her way there first, but instead of the housekeeper, now back to work entirely but still excellent friends with Mrs Eliot, she found Fanny, hemming what seemed to be a large embroidered table cloth. Though surprised to find her mistress in the servants' quarters, Fanny curtseyed politely but not humbly, still, she seemed a lot less independent than whenever she was in Elizabeth's own dressing room. Well, in a way it was not surprising that an elderly lady like Mrs Annesley or Mrs Reynolds inspired more respect in a young woman than Elizabeth, who was very young and rather familiar with her personal maid.

'Mrs Darcy, can I help you?'

'Yes, please, Fanny, I'm looking for Mrs Reynolds.'

'I think she is in the cellar, ma'am, I can fetch her for you if you like. Though I think she will be back soon, she left when I started and I'm nearly done.'

'In that case I'll wait, and you can tell me how things are going here. You know, with Bob, and Dora, and all the others.'

Fanny did not hesitate but merely fell into the comfortable mood she usually displayed when working on Elizabeth's toilette, more familiar towards her mistress though still hard at work. She was one of those people who could perform a rather precise task and still talk sense.

'Let me see, ma'am, I'll start with Bob. He is very happy to be back here, and I can see why, it's like having a large family. Everyone has been so nice to us, even Bruce. And everyone has been nice to Bruce, that could have been different, people like Bob so much, they might have tried to get back at Bruce but they didn't. Bob is everything I hoped for in a husband, caring, sweet, but he puts his foot down these days when he knows he is right, and not just to me. Bruce wants to return to town, and Bob is teaching him how to keep the horses trim and eager when living confined. And our rooms are lovely, ma'am.'

'And how does living in the country suit you, Fanny?'

'Excellent, though I miss my mum and sisters and brothers. They can rarely write, you see, because of the cost. But the people here are like family, and not so different from back home. I could get used to living here, I think, though I loved being your personal maid more than anything.'

Poor Fanny, there wasn't much chance anymore of Elizabeth wanting to be dressed and made up to within an inch of her life on a regular basis. Life was much better in the country. But once Fanny got with child she would want to stay put a little more, and she'd want Bob there for her. Maybe they should indeed have Bruce taught to drive the thoroughbreds. Or take Hugo to town, let him share responsibility of the Pemberley stables a little more often with the adult stable hands like Bob and Peter.

Fanny was not the kind to complain and she quickly added, 'But Mrs Reynolds always finds something to do for us, ma'am, I have not felt useless, nor has she asked me to do anything that might be considered demeaning for a personal maid, like clearing fireplaces or doing the rounds upstairs.'

That was probably their way to refer to emptying the chamberpots.

'I'm glad, Fanny, and in April we expect visitors, then Mrs Fielding and I will need your services again. My aunt Gardiner really likes to see her nieces dressed up. So how is Dora?'

'She'll be pleased you asked, ma'am, she felt so much better to have talked to you and Mrs Fielding but she was ashamed to have let herself go. I told her that if Mrs Fielding asked, she wanted to know and Dora could not have refused to answer. That settled her just fine, and now she is hoping for miserable weather to be allowed to do up the young lady's hair. I remember Mrs Fielding vaguely resembling a mop or a sheep when we tried that, but if she has promised Dora they'd try it, she will remember. She always keeps her promises, Mrs Fielding does. They are such a beautiful couple, she and Mr Fielding, and so very happy together.

Oh, and Dora received a letter from that boy she wrote, she refers to him as a boy but Fowler says he is as much a man as Dora is a woman. Where she can hear it, too, he does not gossip. I can't imagine why she fell for him, he is exactly like a bossy older brother, I'm glad I'm the eldest at home. But she still yearns for him sometimes, though it's getting less, and I have to admit he can be very charming and he is quite handsome when he smiles. Pauline said he got her into a world of trouble, told on her to Mrs Reynolds when she chatted him up a little, just to be nice. But I didn't believe that and I told her so, Fowler would never lead someone on, he is nice but always correct. And then she admitted Mrs Reynolds had merely warned her to be more careful with men, they might take her advances seriously and get her, and themselves, into trouble. I think she wanted to use Fowler to get at Simon, she always watches him whenever he is in here. He knows, he has been very cool and polite to her but she doesn't seem to get it. I'm afraid she won't do well here, ma'am, she is too calculating.'

Nick had said Pauline wanted help for her sister and to improve herself. Well, Georgiana had had the sister over to test her intelligence and her knowledge and she had been impressed. If the father agreed Fitzwilliam wanted to send her to town to be taught nursing, and since the man had only one daughter less than her own father and decidedly fewer means to raise them, she expected him to jump at the chance to have one of them able to support herself.

But hearing Fanny she doubted that Pauline would manage to wrestle herself loose from her humble roots, she'd likely chat up some farmer's son as well and get herself with child and into a forced marriage. If she was lucky. Well, if they managed to help the sister, some of that advantage would flow back to Pauline, who did after all get her the help she needed.

'I trust your judgement, Fanny, and Nick's and Mrs Reynolds'. She can probably stay for our relatives' visit, and if she hasn't started to adapt by then she probably never will. But you were going to tell me about the letter Dora received, did it make her happy?'

'Oh yes, ma'am,' Fanny said with a cheeky wink, 'and not just because Fowler spent half an hour on her helping her read it. She told me all about it afterwards, apparently this man almost begged her to give him a chance. That it had nearly broken his heart to see her with Fowler. Of course that had been quite embarrassing to read with the man sitting next to her, helping her spell it out, but apparently he took it well. I do think he feels like her brother, he is very protective of her. And of Mrs Manners, he follows her around everywhere. Why does Mr Manners keep him, ma'am, if I may ask? He can protect her well enough himself, can't he? He is as broad as Fowler and Bates says his master can wrestle like no-one else.'

Well, the question was going to pop up at some time. Better give Fanny a good story now and she'd not hesitate to address that issue whenever it cropped up.

'You know Mrs Manners' mother tried to take her back to her estate?'

'Yes, ma'am, I heard.'

'She won't try again here, but they are not going to stay here forever. And they are planning to go to the continent, where life can be quite dangerous, even for a gentleman. Having a body guard is quite intense, he is supposed to follow you everywhere, and you can imagine a lady wouldn't want just any strong fighter that close. There needs to be a certain bond between a guard and his charge, and that is why Nick is still here, or here already: Mrs Manners trusts him, he has proven himself worthy of that trust, and he has excellent references. If Mr Manners dismissed him now he would find another employer soon, and Mrs Manners would have to get used to a whole new guard when they leave here. And not just she, all the others would have to live with him, too. He might not be as suitable. So they have decided to keep Nick, teach him some extra skills he might need on the continent, like behaving like a gentleman himself, so he can accompany Mrs Manners everywhere without people knowing he is actually a dangerous fighter.'

'Fowler is dangerous, ma'am?'

Elizabeth laughed, apparently Fanny bought her excuse, even though Anne was married now and Lady Catherine would be very pleased with the match.

'Extremely dangerous, Fanny, though I admit he doesn't look like it. Which makes him all the more valuable as a guard. I've seen him teach Mr Manners some tricks and believe me, they were very nasty. And effective. Also, he is rapidly learning how to use a rifle accurately, and I think Mr Manners may get him a handgun once they're across the North Sea. But I hope you understand now why he accompanied Mrs Manners to Pemberley?'

'I do, ma'am. And I know he isn't dangerous to us. It's just that some questions were raised.'

'And you have my permission to address them when they do so again. Or they might ask Nick himself, he won't mind answering them.'

'Well, some hinted that he liked Mrs Manners more than he should, but then the others said that was Mr Manners' business, not theirs. They did not say that in front of Dora, though, she'd have killed them. I like a bit of news as much as anyone, ma'am, but some people just take it too far. I know Fowler has this reputation, but as far as I know he is kind and respectful to everybody. I don't like hearing people gossip about him, and neither does Mrs Reynolds.'

Now Fanny was silent, as if she suddenly remembered something thoroughly unpleasant.

'Speaking of gossip, ma'am, I feel I should tell you. There is some rumour going around that you have been blessed. You know, that you may be with child. I suppose it's the seamstress not realising that anything she says about you is of interest since you made the papers so often. And now word is that you gained weight where it matters.'

Fanny was very embarrassed, but she did tell her mistress what she'd heard.

'Well, you know as well as I do that I did indeed gain a little weight,' Elizabeth replied playfully. She'd hoped to have left the newspapers behind but certainly Fanny couldn't help that.

'I did, ma'am, when you got dressed before the wedding. Your corset was a bit tight, but the dress was a ready-made and it just adapts. But I didn't tell anyone, ma'am.'

'I know, Fanny, and I'm glad you told me someone else did. I don't mind people gossiping, well, expect when it's nasty gossip, of course, but if I'd heard people talking about me I would have felt bad. Now I know what to expect. And the truth is, I don't know, Fanny. I may have eaten too much in London, or I may indeed be with child, it is to be expected.'

Now Fanny looked positively sly.

'You know my mother's midwife, the one who examined Mrs Collins that time at your house?'

Elizabeth could not believe what Fanny was going to say but nodded.

'She told me how not to conceive too quickly. I want a child, but not yet. I could tell you as well, ma'am, of course it is a sin, but we'll just have to take that risk, won't we? Bob and I cannot afford to have a baby while travelling from one house to another, I'd lose my position and he'd be away from me half the year.'

Fanny? Righteous Fanny?

'Thank you so much, Fanny. We don't need it now, but I'd like to hear about it in the future, we do not want five children like my parents, I'm from a very prolific family, like you. I appreciate your offer very much, Fanny. And please don't worry too much, if it does happen to you we will find a solution.'

'Thank you, ma'am, she did tell me it didn't always work, and my mother certainly doesn't lack children. She refused to hear the midwife, but I'm not going to slave away my best years for a sixth and seventh baby. I've raised enough siblings for now.

Ma'am, should I tell Mrs Fielding? She's so young, and about to go to Vienna.'

Well, maybe a midwife had a better option than Nick, it wouldn't hurt to hear.

'Yes, please, Fanny. She is very young and still so busy working on improving her playing.'

Fanny merely nodded, it would be very embarrassing but she would do it.

When the long-awaited letter from uncle Spencer arrived, Darcy didn't even dream of reading it all by himself. He did consider having Elizabeth read it to him in their bedroom or in the confidence room on the first floor before letting Georgie see it, for he dreaded the contents of that letter, and he didn't want his baby-sister to witness his reaction. She'd always admired him, and he just didn't want to take the chance of disappointing her. But he knew what Elizabeth would say, Georgie had the right to know as much as he did, and she was an adult now and perfectly able to handle a little unwelcome news.

So he sighed deeply and took the letter, unopened, to the drawing-room, where he knew he'd find Georgie and Fielding at the Clementi, now the main piano for their amusement and finally in the perfect tune it deserved. Elizabeth would probably be doing some needlework with Anne, they were each working on a tiny dress, Anne for their cousin Spencer's son, and Elizabeth for an as yet unknown baby, maybe Jane's, maybe Lydia's. Maybe her own? She seemed different these last weeks, calmer and almost dreamy sometimes, although she still loved to push herself riding and shooting, and her wit certainly hadn't suffered. She had gained a little weight as well, making her even more attractive, and come to think of it, she had been as eager as ever when they were in their bedroom by themselves, her fuller breasts released from the corset she usually wore under her chemise.

But, all that might be due to their long stay in town and the constant scrutiny they had been under, his beloved thrived under an almost regimental amount of exercise, which had been severely curtailed by the confines of a large city and the unwanted attention from the reporters keeping an eye on their house. If she had merely gained weight due to their stay in town she should start losing it quickly for they were back to their honeymoon habits, riding in the mornings and shooting, fishing or rambling in the afternoons, with some intimate but reasonably tiring activities in between. How she even found the time to embroider a tiny dress was a miracle in itself.

As he entered the drawing-room the sound of the piano proved Georgie and Fielding at least were where they should be. A look towards the seating area nearest the window confirmed Anne's and Elizabeth's presence, and Manners was sitting with them. The ladies were perfectly able to talk and work at the same time.

Elizabeth looked up, caught his eye, and her expression softened until his heart was in his throat with such an unthinking testimony of her love for him. He could barely remember the heartbreak he'd once felt over her, she had made him so incredibly happy that even those agonizing months were just a vague memory, as if they had been years ago instead of a little less than one year.

He just had to go straight towards her and kiss her, his feelings would not allow otherwise.

That done, he showed her the letter, and immediately noticed her expression changing to worry.

'Are you up to this, my love?'

'I am. I want to know the truth, and I cannot say I care very much about what it turns out to be. If Wickham is my brother by my father's blood you can stop feeling guilty about your sister's marriage connecting him to me. Remember, all uncle Spencer did for his younger son was support Fitzwilliam into the army, which is what I have been doing for George, after having given him a chance to study the law, and my father offering him the living if he took orders. He has had more chances than most second sons, and made a lot less of himself.'

The music had stopped and Georgie called out, 'Is that uncle Spencer's reply to your inquiry, Fitzwilliam? Let's hear it.'

What, right here? Well, why not, uncle Spencer was Anne's uncle, too, and Frederick already knew about Wickham's possible parentage. It would be rude to leave them behind for something that wasn't a secret anyway. But he handed Elizabeth the letter, she would have to read it.

Dear nephew,

I have been expecting this enquiry into your mother's personal effects for some time now, but I have to admit I was surprised to receive such a request from you. After having shared my suspicions about your late father's conduct, and Lieutenant Wickham's parentage, with your beloved wife I was convinced she shared my opinion that those suspicions should be kept between us until there was proof to substantiate them. On the other hand, I always shared everything with my dear Alice and I know she would have been hurt had I kept such possibly devastating knowledge from her, and I respect my niece-by-marriage's decision to enlist your aid in finding out the truth.

After receiving your letter I immediately searched my dear late sister's room, which we have never changed since her decease, and though I found a lot of painful but fond memories of the time when she and Alice were both still alive and well, I did not find any letters from Richard Darcy to Mrs Victoria Wickham.

I did find a letter that suggested Anne was aware of their existence, and a hint of who may still have those missing letters in her possession, though neither you nor Mrs Darcy will be pleased to find out where more information on this subject is to be had. I have copied the letter and included the original in this envelope, so you may read it for yourselves. If you draw the same conclusions I do, please let me know whether you will pursue this line of enquiry, or whether you prefer to let the past stay in the past: nothing will change after all by proving or disproving our theory.

I leave the decision up to you both, and just want to tell you how much I am looking forward to my visit in April, to spend a little more time with Mr Bennet and Mr Gardiner, both of whom I liked when we first met on dear Georgiana's birthday.

Spencer sends his love and so does Penny, Alexander Spencer is growing like a weed and generally a very good boy, he sleeps well and eats better. They loved the little dress you and Mrs Darcy sent for Alexander, and could not believe at first that she had made it all herself, especially the exquisite embroidery.

With respect and affection,

Spencer Compton

Elizabeth stared at him in abhorrence and Georgie cried out, 'Aunt Catherine, no! Now we'll never know!'

'Better read that, too, my love,' was all he managed to say. He did not want to beg his aunt Catherine for anything, not after the things she'd said about Elizabeth.

Elizabeth merely removed another sheet of paper from the envelope, unfolded it and started to read.

My dearest Anne,

I truly don't understand why you don't want to come to me at Rosings to see those letters you suspected Darcy to have written to Victoria Wickham. I realise now you only wrote to me to vent your feelings when you found out about them, from Victoria herself of all people!, but I am your sister and I love you, and Richard Darcy is breaking you, slowly but surely. Please believe me when I tell you that I was very sorry to find your fears of his deceit totally grounded. I thought you wanted me to take action, to prove their shameful behaviour and help you escape your deplorable situation. You know will always have a home with Sir Lewis and myself, Darcy cannot take Pemberley away from little Fitzwilliam, no matter what happens he is his eldest son and his legitimate heir, no need to endure further humiliations to secure your boy's future. I just want you to be happy, dear Anne.

Had I known your feelings I would not have sent Hughes on his mission to the Pemberley guard house to retrieve a few incriminating letters, but it was done, and done for the best. There is nothing I can do to undo that. Will you not come and live with me, you and your children? Anne would be so pleased to have Fitzwilliam close, even if it's just in the holidays. And I'm certain I could be of help with little Georgiana, I know a great governess who would take most of the strain from you, so you could regain some strength and finally enjoy your little girl.

Don't you see how cruel Darcy is to have that woman taking care of you, whilst conducting an affair with her? You say she even visits him in London, can we not put the stop to that at the very least, if you insist on staying with him? Force him to find another steward and get rid of that whole family? You say that you'd rather have him see someone you know and trust to keep quiet, but how do you know that he doesn't see other women as well? He is away in London for half the year, for all you know he has one or two mistresses out there as well.

Please reconsider and come to Rosings, at least to see for yourself what else he admits to in those letters, you'll be pleased to never see him again. Please, Anne, I only want what is best for you and your children. What if Fitzwilliam finds out? He is already seventeen and very smart for his age. You don't want him to find out what his father is really like, do you? He has enough on his mind with that George Wickham taking up most of his father's time. I can keep an eye on your boy while he is in London, but there is only so much an aunt can do, a boy needs his father. Please let me send Hughes to London as well, to discover what Darcy is up to there, maybe we can use it to at least force him to respect you and your children a little more.

I love you, Anne, please let me help you.

Yours for ever, Catherine.

They were all silent. Darcy had not realised how much Aunt Catherine had loved her sister, had not realised his aunt could love so deeply as this hastily written letter proved.

'Maybe we should visit your mother one of these days, Anne.'

As usual, Manners was the first to recover.

'Or I could write, in a way it's my duty to spend some time on my mother-in-law. I never had a sibling, but to love someone like that and see her duped, and not be able to do anything about it.'

Anne shook her head and replied, 'I'm not ready, Frederick. She could have loved me, too, but she never did. Instead she almost killed me trying to improve me. I do feel sorry for her, and I won't mind if you write, but I am not going to visit her until she admits she did wrong.'

'I understand. I'll see if I can write her then.'

'I feel almost as bad as when I read your letter, Fitzwilliam,' Elizabeth observed. 'I felt I had been so blind and prejudiced then, and I do now, to have taken such a dislike to her when she lost someone so dear to her.'

'That was almost ten years ago, Elizabeth!' Georgie now retorted, 'Anne is right, Aunt Catherine chose to live in the past and claim Fitzwilliam, instead of helping her very own daughter. The care she offered to give me was to hand me over to a governess so she could have her sister to herself. Fitzwilliam deserved what he got from you, and you never did anything to Aunt Catherine for her to treat you like dirt. Look at what you did for me, I'm a different person altogether! And you certainly made my brother the happiest man in the country.'

'And I'll never forget how you accepted me without question, Elizabeth. My mother is exactly what she seems, a spoiled, arrogant, good-for-nothing busybody, and she has treated you abominably. Maybe you can write to Hughes to get hold of those letters for you.'

That sounded like a good idea, but in a way Elizabeth was right, and Aunt Catherine had in fact always treated Darcy with kindness and even respect. She had never ordered him about, and had valued his opinion even when his father had still been alive and Darcy had admired and loved him like no-one else. She had never given so much as a hint to him that she disliked his father, never forcing Darcy to choose between his parents, never smudging his father's memory. Darcy had ever been his aunt's favourite, and while she had never influenced him for the good, if she had done her best for anyone, however unasked-for, it had been for Darcy.

Until he went against her wishes, that was true, but still she had been a steady presence in his life.

'I will not force a good man to do anything underhanded. I will write to her myself. Though you are both right, Anne and Georgie, she spent time on me for selfish purposes, but she did spend that time on me and she left me my illusions over my father's worth as a husband and parent. I am not looking forward to dealing with her but I want to know the truth, and that means asking her to release those letters to us.'

Then he took Elizabeth's hand and said with feeling, 'Georgie is right, my love, I did deserve your reproofs, and they forced me to improve myself, and then you made me the happiest man in the world. Please don't feel bad about disliking Aunt Catherine, you did nothing wrong there either.'

There was no hurry, though, he would spend quite a lot of time on deciding what to write to his aunt. He was not going to humble himself towards her, but of course they wanted something from her, so he would have to be polite. Maybe he could work on her common sense, Darcy had always shown her the respect she was due as his aunt, and she had always been rather attached to him, though in her usual condescending way. Come to think of it, she hadn't been quite as condescending to him as she had been to other people, even Anne. And Elizabeth still didn't seem to hold a grudge against Aunt Catherine, despite having plenty of reason to do so.

'Whatever you decide to do, Fitzwilliam, I will be right behind you. I don't care for your aunt, and I think she has treated both Anne and Mr Collins atrociously, but she always spoke of you with great affection and respect. If anyone can convince her to let the truth come out after all these years, it must be you.'

Anne's kind voice observed, 'She hasn't been all that kind towards you either, Elizabeth. Somehow you still seem to feel you have no right to a humane treatment from my mother because you are below Darcy, somehow you agree with her. But it's not true, you know. No-one could have made him as happy as you have, he waited for you, and if you had rejected him again his heart would have been broken for ever. You are good enough for him, and you are better than my mother, despite her being richer. More people love you, and not just that, more people respect you. You were right to address her as you did at the parsonage, do not be mistaken about that.'

And everyone present agreed, of course Fielding adored her no matter what, he didn't know Aunt Catherine and therefore had no clear opinion on her, but Darcy could see Georgie nodding, and Manners, though the latter didn't actually know her either. But they all knew Elizabeth and loved her nearly as much as Darcy did, she had been of importance to every single one of them, and a lot more people besides. His aunt would have to accept Elizabeth and promise to treat her with respect, if not kindly. She would never like Elizabeth, his beloved was too frank and too independent for Aunt Catherine to appreciate, his aunt preferred obeisance to intelligence and wit, but she would have to accept Darcy's love for Elizabeth and pay Mrs Darcy every civility due if they were to ever restore the connection. And yet, they were the supplicants here...

'Thank you all for your trust in me, I do appreciate it. Though I still don't care very much what Lady Catherine thinks of me, I would indeed prefer to be on reasonable terms with her. So let's write her then, my love, and see what she has to say.'

In the end, it took them a week and a half to come up with a letter of which the tone comprised a reasonable compromise between entreaty and self-respect. Elizabeth had been much milder than Darcy himself, probably because of what she said, she really didn't care what Aunt Catherine thought of her, so she couldn't feel humiliated by anything they wrote. She just wanted results, to gain hold of the missing letters.


	138. Chapter 138

And so March made way for April, when their snug little family circle would be expanded with a mishmash of relatives, uncle Spencer, Fitzwilliam, Mr and Mrs Bennet bringing Maria, Mr and Mrs Gardiner with their four children, and Jane and Bingley. Everything in the house had been readied, plenty of bedrooms had been prepared, a sitting room had been converted to a children's paradise with toys and suitable books so the maid wouldn't have to keep the youngsters quiet all the time since there would be no-one to be bothered by their noise.

Elizabeth had insisted on sending for a selection of crayons and beautiful papers, to be stored safely on a top shelf to offer the maid some pleasure for herself when her charges were asleep or with their parents. Having realised that art was taken as seriously or even more seriously among the lower classes, Darcy was proud of his wife to have thought of helping a budding talent along, even if it might only offer the maid a few hours of solitary leisure. Renowned artists generally did not come from the ranks of household staff, and were certainly never female, but of course that wouldn't stop Elizabeth.

With everything readied for their visitors, Darcy was a bit disappointed to find the English weather threatening to ruin their month of outdoors entertainment. Though the gentlemen were used to storm and rain in their fall hunts, Darcy had been looking forward so much to showing his relatives and friends how good a rider Elizabeth was, and he had hoped Fielding and Georgie would agree to join them for some of the calmer outings, they had come along so beautifully on their more placid horses. But now, a typical April storm was razing across the countryside, tearing at the young leaves of the trees, whipping a deluge of sleet-like rain against the window panes of his study as if winter was trying to take back the country.

Such miserable weather could not last for long, could it? Their guests would arrive in another week, and though April was often capricious up in the north, with even a cover of snow far from unlikely, better they had the atrocious weather now than next week.

A knock on his door broke his negative thoughts, and at his request to come in his butler appeared.

'There is someone to see you, master.'

Darcy was stunned. Travelling in this weather? It must be important!

'Did he leave his name? Was it an express? He must have been soaked!'

'He did indeed look somewhat bedraggled, sir. I asked him to come out of the rain and let someone see to his horse but he said he'd see you first to be certain of his welcome. He said his name was George, master, nothing more.'

George? Not sure of his welcome? If it was Wickham he was right to expect not being welcome at Pemberley. But maybe something was amiss with Lydia.

'Is he an army man, Stokes? Medium height, curly hair, weathered face but still tolerably handsome?'

If so, Elizabeth should come, too, for several reasons.

'No, sir, this is unmistakeably a gentleman, though very bedraggled, and rather on the pudgy side, excusing my bluntness.'

A fat gentleman of his acquaintance called George, probably someone he knew by his family name only, an eldest son or he'd be able to match the Christian name with a face.

'Well, I'll find out soon enough who it is, better see to him quickly for he will be getting wetter and colder by the minute. You arrange for his horse to be taken to the stables, I cannot think of anyone I'd leave outside in this weather, not even George Wickham. Thank you, Stokes.'

The butler bowed as Darcy hurried downstairs to the front door. As he opened it and recognised the gentleman standing there, indeed soaked through but in an excellent humour nonetheless, Darcy realised there was one other man besides Wickham, coincidentally going by the same Christian name, that he would prefer not to allow into his home. But he also realised he could not possibly refuse this George entrance, and the man himself knew it. The doubt he'd expressed had been solely for the sake of propriety.

'Why don't you come in quickly, Your Highness, you must be soaked through. There's Peter already to take your horse, he will take excellent care of your animal, dry it down and give it a good feed. Do you have any attendants?'

He should have at least two courtiers with him, plus maybe four guards? And a personal servant or two? They were probably standing just out of view, to give the impression His Highness was truly offering Darcy a choice to either allow them in or send them on. Fortunately they had plenty of excellent spare rooms ready for use, good enough for any court noble, and several functional rooms in the servants' quarter for the Prince's attendants and his guards.

But the Heir Presumptive did not signal to his escort to come into view, he merely handed the reins of his magnificent golden gelding or stallion, Darcy couldn't say, to Peter, and removed a set of saddlebags from its back with practised ease. The bags themselves looked as well-worn and practical as the way he carried them inside.

'I am of course required to travel with a suitable retinue, but I have dismissed them to a local inn in the hopes of finding a welcome under your roof myself, Mr Darcy.'

He looked around the hall, and when his eyes found Stokes in the doorway, keeping a discrete distance but ready to take their visitor's coat, he addressed Darcy in a calm, quiet voice that was meant to reach no further than the two of them.

'I was very serious when I expressed myself to your butler, Mr Darcy. You have the right to refuse your hospitality to me as much as you have to any other man. I am not here in an official capacity, but as a mere gentleman paying a visit to people he respects. I know I cannot be a welcome sight to you, my reputation is not flawless and you love your little lady very much. Please let me explain: for one long month your brother-in-law's compositions have haunted me day and night. Maria would not allow me to send for him, though I've bought myself a lovely piano on Mr Clementi's advice. I realise I am imposing on you by appearing on your doorstep unannounced, and if you are in any doubt over my presence in your family circle I will stay at the same inn as my entourage and pay a few visits to Mr Fielding to hear him play. I have to hear more, can you understand that?'

Actually, Darcy could not, he'd had all the music he could wish for since the time Georgie was twelve or thirteen, but he could imagine Fielding's compositions haunting someone, and as his brother-in-law's patron he had to be polite and even forthcoming to his most influential admirer. Not to mention what Manners would do to him if he dared to bar the future king from his house. And to be sure, he did look a sad sight with his pleading expression, so different from the Crown Prince's reputed self-confidence.

Still slightly reluctantly, Darcy offered, 'You are most welcome to stay here, Your Highness, and join our small circle for as long as you like. I'll have Stokes take you to our best room, do you need anything else? An attendant, dry garments of any kind?'

'Thank you very much for the offer, Mr Darcy,' the rotund face was indeed thankful, 'but I do not want to impose on you any further. I will manage to put on some dry clothes myself, and then present myself to you and your family. I assure you I will respect your wife and just enjoy her delightful conversation, if I may please hear Mr Fielding play again.'

'I am quite certain he will be eager to perform for you, I know the quiet of the country has allowed him to compose very constantly, and I am virtually certain he will not hesitate to let a true connoisseur hear his new work.'

'Now I cannot wait. I will be entirely at your service, please do not put yourselves out to accommodate me, I know I am imposing on you and you will hardly notice my presence.'

Well, at least he had excellent manners, and he seemed nice enough. Darcy would try his utmost to be kind and trusting, though the last would be an almost impossible task.

Instead of calling out or gesturing Stokes, Darcy went up to his butler in person and warned him quietly to treat their visitor with the utmost respect, and if necessary, address him as Your Highness. His respect for his butler went up another notch when he could not see a single sign of surprise or awe in the man's expression, he must have been at the top of his class wherever butlers where schooled, such control. The only sign the man gave of his feelings was a quiet, 'Thank you for your warning, Mr Darcy.'

As soon as Stokes had taken Prince George's soaked coat en saddle bags and led their guest towards the stairs, Darcy rang for Mrs Reynolds, asking her to have the cook prepare his best confectionery for dinner for a special guest, and make an extra effort for tea to please this hungry guest, then walked towards the drawing-room, lost in thought. They generally ate well, but most likely not up to the standards of a Royal. That couldn't be helped, though, there was no better chef than Pemberley's available within miles, and anyway, Darcy was not going to put himself out to please the Prince or they'd never get rid of him. Of course that wasn't true, the man had his duties and must have moved mountains to be able to ride four days through atrocious weather to hear the music that haunted him, but Darcy still suspected him of having a secondary motif. No-one just let go of Elizabeth, Wickham hadn't, Fitzwilliam hadn't, and most importantly, Darcy himself hadn't been able to. The best Darcy and Elizabeth could hope for was that he'd keep his promise to respect her, though there was no way to enforce it.

Fortunately everyone was in the drawing-room, gentle music coming from the Clementi now residing there, maybe they should try to find a place for the Zumpe during this month when they were expecting a lot of company. Or maybe for the duration of Georgie's and Fielding's residence.

Elizabeth got up instantly and laid a hand on his arm.

'Something's happened my love, I can see it. Do you want to tell us about it?'

'I most certainly do, it's not exactly bad news, but not altogether good either. You have a very esteemed visitor, Fielding. He has come all the way from London, on horseback, and has left his entourage at a local inn.'

'You are not serious! He's here? After a mere month? By himself?'

Of course Elizabeth knew straight away.

'I expected him to come, but this quickly?'

'I know, my love, I know. It's indeed the Prince of Wales himself, by himself, he presented himself like any other visitor, dripping wet, holding his own horse, a magnificent creature by the way, Manners, excused himself for imposing on us. But he couldn't forget your music, Fielding, it haunted him, and he had to hear it again.'

Darcy did not mention the Prince's allusions to Elizabeth, he would tell her later. It was not dignified to discuss such matters in public.

'He said he would be down as soon as he had changed into something dry, he must be starving.'

Now Elizabeth looked at him in earnest and asked, 'Do you want me to put on a dress? I've been wondering whether to wear a dress more often once our guests arrive, then change just before we go out, instead of wearing the split skirts all morning. This just forces my decision, and you have the last say.'

He knew why, she was afraid his jealousy would cause his little problem to reappear to complicate things. But Darcy thought he'd conquered his despicable jealousy, and this would be the perfect time to test himself. Besides, he enjoyed showing off Elizabeth's independence and she did look fabulous in those split skirts and blouses. Mrs Norman had made a good deal on the pattern with the local seamstress, the one who had made the blouses and Elizabeth's lovely coats. That talented lady expected to be able to sell quite a lot of the newfangled skirts to local women, and after Mrs Reynolds' mediation had offered to buy the pattern for a decent sum. And of course she had been able to sell half a dozen straight away, to Mrs Fielding and Mrs Manners, who were enjoying riding astride and planned to do a lot of it. Elizabeth had ordered a few extras, the seamstress had added a few improvements, and the tiny bit of weight she'd gained had stayed despite their rambling, riding, shooting and being very active in the bedroom, so she'd had several made to her new measures. She'd said, 'Maybe I'm merely growing up, maybe I'm indeed with child, but I do not feel any different. Do you see a difference in me?'

Besides her being more beautiful and radiant than ever? No. But a month had almost passed, and if her moon time hadn't come by the time their guests arrived she had promised him she'd ask Jane what she should expect to feel if she were indeed with child.

'You seem miles away, Fitzwilliam. Not having lewd thoughts, I hope?'

If only she'd refrain from similar remarks in the company of the Prince! The older man had promised to keep his thoughts off Mrs Darcy, but no man could resist Elizabeth when she was being perky. Well, except maybe Will Collins, but that wasn't exactly a recommendation.

'I am now. But they'll fade. You wear whatever you like, Elizabeth, I love to see you in split skirts, and I love what you have done with Barley. Can you imagine I was thinking of the improvements the seamstress made to those skirts?'

'I think she did a marvellous job, my love, and the fitting is so much better. You truly don't mind for the Prince of Wales, and your relatives, to see me in what in truth are trousers?'

'I don't. I am proud of you, and I want them to see you ride, and shoot. And maybe you should have a short version of those undergarments made, it will be too warm for woollies soon.'

'I already thought of that. I advised Anne and Georgiana to get some of the long ones, and Anne admitted she already had several of the short pairs, apparently Nick recommended them to keep her monthly padding in place. So I asked Mrs Reynolds to get me some, too, since keeping padding in place is very, very important and no-one will see them anyway.'

Were they seriously talking about women's affairs in the drawing-room, while at that very time the heir to the British throne was changing in their best guest room? He must have shown his thoughts, for Elizabeth laughed heartily.

'I think you are the best men around to not hide from these embarrassing intimate issues. You, and Nick, and Eric as well. And Anne says Simon and Frederick support her whenever Nick cannot while she is in such pain and bleeding. It matters, Fitzwilliam, a lot.'

But even while she said that Elizabeth was very worried, hiding her feelings to not upset her beloved. The Prince of Wales in their very own house? She did not doubt the older man's self-control, he had plenty of willing women to choose from and he was spoiled but not heartless, and undeniably a decent man. No, Elizabeth feared for Fitzwilliam, he had not shown any jealousy for their entire time at Pemberley so far, but there had been no-one to be jealous of. And this was the last man he could afford to show it to, he absolutely had to control himself. Or she could try to avoid Prince George, to make it easier on her beloved. But she liked the Prince for his intelligent conversation, and he liked her, and it was such an excellent connection for Eric to have. She could not slight him to please her husband, and she didn't want to. Maybe she could order Fitzwilliam to keep his calm? Then reward him if he succeeded?

'I don't really know why I've put on my riding skirts this morning, I suppose the weather will stay like this the entire day. Why don't we go for a ramble after tea? We can take an umbrella and stay dry.'

'With this wind? Well, maybe if we take the circuit, it's rather sheltered. We could stay in today and enjoy the music. That reminds me...Fielding, Georgie?'

Both looked up from the music sheets they were studying.

'Do you mind having your little instrument downstairs while we are entertaining?'

The two looked at each other and Fielding observed, 'It's a very good idea, actually. I'll be able to run a few things I've written past all of you, especially the Prince, I guess, since he has heard the best players and composers. Might as well make the most of such an unexpected visit. Shall I find Nick and bring it over right away?'

'Bob and Bruce can do it, you know, no need for Nick to lug things around.'

'If you don't mind, I prefer to have Nick, he doesn't mind using his strength and he knows about instruments by now, he helped bring the Clementi in here. Maybe Bruce can help him, that piano is heavy and Bob is rather slight, though I know he is stronger than he looks.'

'I'll help Nick carry the piano,' Manners said in his usual forceful way. 'I'm stronger than Bruce and I know what that piano means to you, Eric, and to Georgiana. I think we can keep it stable so it doesn't detune too much. Let's do it quickly, before your guest comes down.'

Anne didn't hesitate to follow the two men out, and Georgie immediately put her elder brother to work moving several comfortable chairs to make room for the little black Zumpe. Darcy could not fault the spot she'd chosen, whereas the Clementi was placed a bit to the side to facilitate ceaseless practise without disturbing their usual routine too much, while still allowing the occasional demonstration, Georgiana planned to make the little Zumpe the focal point of the room. Had it been larger, they would have had to move the other piano out or rearrange the heavier furniture, but as it was, there was just enough space for two instruments.

Piano moved and put into its new place, a prime spot in the middle of the large drawing-room where it caught every eye despite its plainness, Georgiana and Eric occupied themselves with tuning. Darcy was reading, as usual, and Frederick was a little bored. He wanted to go out, but rain or sleet, or something in between, was still punishing the windows with energy, he would be soaked before reaching the stables.

Anne and Elizabeth were sitting together, each working on some intricate piece of embroidery. Actually, Elizabeth was working on an intricate piece, she had been fond of needlework for as long as Frederick had known her, but Anne had picked up the habit only recently, most likely because she saw Elizabeth enjoying it so much. Anne's work was improving rapidly, while not even approaching Elizabeth's accomplishments as yet Anne had the patience and the precision required for the painstaking job of placing stitch after stitch of coloured silk where it should be, and not even a hair's breadth to either side.

'Anne, my dear?' Frederick queried Anne, making sure his voice expressed his intention of teasing his wife with her newly found pastime.

As she looked up at him, eyes sparkling at his endearment, he addressed her, 'We have not been married a full month and already you are stuck inside the house doing needlework. I thought your main reason for accepting my hand was to avoid such a fate?'

His beautiful wife and Elizabeth both laughed heartily, Anne had indeed used needlework as an analogy for the suppression of genteel ladies by their husbands, and now she was doing it voluntarily.

'You are so right, my dear Frederick,' Anne answered. 'I never knew how much fun needlework could be, now I'm kind of sorry I didn't marry Lieutenant Talbot, then I could have stayed inside instead of having to go out in this weather. Do you know Elizabeth actually suggested taking a long ramble through the woods after meeting with the Prince of Wales? These people are mad, Frederick!'

She rolled her eyes, and Elizabeth observed, 'I'm so sorry, Anne, for inadvertently robbing you of your freedom by passing on my addiction to needlework. I should have been more careful stitching in your presence. Fortunately Frederick had secured your hand before I subverted you, or you'd be Mrs Talbot and carrying the Lieutenant's child by now.'

Anne didn't even look horrified at the idea.

'I have to admit I love knitting and crocheting little socks and jumpers, and I'm so glad you taught me how to sew as well as embroider so I can make my own baby's little dresses when my time comes.'

That didn't even sound as if spoken in jest, was Anne eager to have a baby? She and Nick had had a little accident on the morning of their wedding, and not enough time had passed as of yet to know whether their failure to use Nick's protections would have any consequences. But like Georgiana, she should not go on a trip to the continent carrying a child, except Anne was twenty-five, not seventeen. She might be longing for a child now she had a man she loved and her future was secured. Frankly, Frederick wouldn't mind having a real family himself, even if he wouldn't actually be the baby's father.

Now Anne laughed even harder.

'You didn't think I really want a baby already, did you? I like embroidery because it is something truly beautiful that I can make myself. I never had the energy to actually make something from almost nothing, and Elizabeth showed me a lady's pastime can be beautiful instead of a hideous and useless waste of materials. I can talk and work, or listen to music and work, and then I'll put it away and ride a horse, or play billiards, or draw maps, or maybe even shoot a gun or catch fish. I can do whatever I like, and I think I will enjoy that for a year or maybe two. And then I'll give you an heir, Frederick, and enjoy giving life to a whole new human being. If it's a boy, can we call him Lewis, for my father? I loved him so much, I'd like his memory to live on.'

Anne had turned a lot more serious, though she was not very much affected but rather thoughtful.

'Of course we can, my love. I think little Lewis will be the most loved boy in the world, with three fathers and you as his mother. And if she is a girl, we'll find a suitable name, and prepare her for her role as heiress. She will have both our estates, and will be a lady to be reckoned with.

And I'd love to go out in the rain in a few hours, I need to breathe fresh air at least once a day to be truly alive, sleet or storm notwithstanding.'

And then the door opened and Darcy's butler calmly announced His Highness, the Prince of Wales. Everyone got up to greet their future king, Frederick seeking out his lovely wife's side, proud to be standing next to such a beautiful woman as her husband, even if their marriage was not one of love. Not one of romantic love, for he did love Anne, and she loved him, in many other ways.

Prince George did not seem particularly happy to be introduced with his title, though he accepted it with something much like resignation. He was not dressed as befitted a prince, but more like a gentleman going on a hunting trip without his valet, and he was not planning to behave like a prince either, that became clear straight away. For instead of greeting the party in order of their rank, as one would have expected, Prince George started with its lowest-ranked member, Eric.

'Mr Fielding, I beg your forgiveness for bothering you during your country seclusion. Your compositions have haunted my dreams as well as my waking hours, I could not stand another season without hearing them again. My Maria forbade me to send for you, said you needed your repose or risked losing your genius, so I decided to come to you, all alone, and throw myself on your mercy.'

Eric shook his hand in the spirit in which it was offered, then bowed anyway to show his respect. Frederick knew he had to be beaming with pride over his friend's tact and refinement, many a gentleman could use his manners as an excellent example. After his bow, Eric spoke with humour.

'Your Highness, no excuses are necessary, for I will shamelessly put your broad experience and faultless taste to my own good use. I have several new works I'd like to play for you, and I am looking forward to your expert opinion on them. And of course as reward I will play the works you crave to hear, as many times as we can fit into your stay here.'

'You are the soul of courtesy, Mr Fielding, I cannot wait to hear you play.'

Naturally, he then took Georgiana's hand and kissed it, addressing her familiarly and expressing a hope to hear her play, too. And Georgiana also showed her future king the respect that was his due, making Frederick very happy.

Of course Prince George should have greeted Darcy first, as his host and the highest ranking gentleman present, but they had met at the door and anyway, Darcy didn't seem insulted at Prince George's gesture towards Eric. But now the Prince showed he had at least some tact for he greeted Darcy instead of turning towards Elizabeth first, though Frederick could see he wanted to, he indeed admired her, poor Darcy. Although, poor, he was stunningly handsome and incredibly wealthy, and his character was beyond reproach. What chance had an almost-forty-year-old, chubby womaniser who was married to a hag and routinely cheated on her, and even on his current mistress? Elizabeth didn't care about status or even more wealth, she had resisted this man's advances before and on his own turf, when he had been dressed to perfection and could ply her with Madeira wine and more importantly, exotic confectioneries made of chocolate and bergamot. Right now, he appeared mostly to be a true devotee to Fielding's music, not an admirer of Mrs Darcy's charms.

But when Prince George turned towards Elizabeth, Frederick had to revise that opinion, for the plainly dressed Heir Presumptive practically glowed with admiration. Or was it the heat of the room on his florid face? He had been out in the freezing cold for days, after all. Darcy was not quite ready to murder him, though he seemed distracted, as if forcing himself to ignore the whole scene, which was probably the wisest course, since Elizabeth was propriety itself.

'Mrs Darcy, I am so glad to see you again, and in such propitious circumstances. Now please tell me for I have been dying to find out: how is your beautiful hunter, did you ride him already? And have you taken your first obstacles? And I hardly dare ask, but I am going to anyway for I cannot bear not knowing: have you used your rifle yet, your Christmas present?'

This was a devilishly smart man, and if he could just keep it in his pants, as Nick would say, he would be the best king ever, or at least in a long long time. For those questions all related to gifts that proved Mr Darcy's devotion to his wife, and by referring to them he practically promised Darcy to respect such deep feelings. Elizabeth caught on perfectly, of course. Her father would have given his right arm to be here, to witness his daughter matching wits with the Prince of Wales.

'You are indeed a charmer, Your Highness! You couldn't have found a subject on which I had more to say, or more praise to bestow. Barley, my horse is called Barley because he is as sweet and brown as barley sweets, is just perfect. He is stunningly handsome, faster on the long run than any horse except maybe Fitzwilliam's thoroughbreds, he will jump anything I ask him to, and yet he is as gentle as a dove and minds my every word or move. Can you believe that? I have had him for but a month and it is like we have been together for years.'

'You have indeed already taken obstacles? I salute your bravery, Mrs Darcy, and your husband's, too. To watch someone he loves so much riding as if she is an amazon.'

'You are so right. When Fitzwilliam rode a young, nervous hunter I was afraid he'd come to harm. But nothing happened, and Barley would never hurt me.'

'So you've spent your time here riding, that is great. The shooting season won't start for ever so long, yet, there will be plenty of time to practise handling your rifle.'

Elizabeth laughed heartily and observed, 'We have been enjoying ourselves scandalously, Your Highness, for while you were hard at work in our nation's capital, we have spent the whole month just enjoying ourselves, riding, rambling, fishing, and indeed shooting. We've practised on vermin, hares, foxes, birds of prey, magpies and crows. I wished to join a barn hunt, but Fitzwilliam said that was where he drew the line. No ladies at a barn hunt. Not for the killing, you see, but for the goings-on. He doesn't mind providing his tenants with a keg of ale when they work together to destroy vermin, but afterwards... Have you ever been to a barn hunt?'

Elizabeth, Elizabeth, she was truly her father's daughter, afraid of nothing, respect for nothing. Imagine the Prince of Wales at a barn hunt, they were the country equivalent of the parties Frederick used to organise for his friends. Prince George would love a barn hunt.

'I cannot say that I have, no. I can imagine what it is but not why such an event would be unsuitable for ladies, maybe you could elaborate?'

'Well, only from what I have been told. Twenty-odd farmers, farm hands and the local land owner gather at one of their barns or granaries. Some bring terriers or ferrets, and release them to chase out the rats. Everybody else shoots rats until there are none left. The youngest farm hands dispose of the dead rats while everybody else breaks open a keg to celebrate another successful hunt. Next time they gather at a different barn and rid it of vermin for years to come.'

'I cannot see much harm in that, as long as one doesn't accidentally shoot a ferret, a terrier or one of the other gunmen it sounds like great practise.'

She had him, he really didn't know.

'Ah, but I've left out one thing: the women. You see, during a barn hunt the men work as a team, and rank no longer applies for the duration of the hunt. And the local women and girls apparently like to watch the whole spectacle, and claim their share of the brew. They have been know to become free with their favours, and not just towards the other tenants. Which is why Fitzwilliam generally sends the keg with his huntsmaster and stable master and refrains from attending the occasions himself.'

Prince George slapped his thighs in mirth and gasped, 'Mrs Darcy, I cannot help it, I adore you. And though I can imagine why you'd want to test your mettle in this way, I cannot disagree with your husband that a barn hunt is indeed no place for a lady. Nor for a gentleman, frankly. I'm so glad to finally be here, and to receive such a welcome. As lady of the house, would you do the honour of introducing me to your friends?'

That was going pretty far, but it was not yet an insult worthy of a challenge to a duel of honour. And Darcy was still rather composed, a little more, actually. But now it was Frederick's turn to be introduced to the Prince of Wales, and he was looking forward to it, he kind of liked the fellow so far.

Elizabeth approached Frederick first, though they had in fact come to the conclusion that Anne outranked him. Well, not anymore, according to the law, and since rank was as much a human construct as the law, Elizabeth would decide for herself whom to introduce first, making Frederick the logical choice since Anne was standing on Frederick's other side, partially hidden by his broad figure.

'Your Highness, this is our good friend Mr Frederick Manners. You may have heard of him, since you have proven to read the papers.'

'The Mr Manners indeed! Master mind of the New Year's Eve Ball, you have quite the reputation. Of course I knew you were a friend of the family, my advisor argued against my coming here since you are reputed to be my father's confidant and as such a possible spy, but I decided there was nothing reprehensible about listening to superior music and to therefore take the risk. Very pleased to meet you, Mr Manners!'

And he meant it, Frederick could see that. The man before him was just that, a man, a music lover trying to find what had moved him. The attitude of a prince he had left behind with his courtiers and his guards, and his rich clothes. This man was showing them more of himself than even most high nobles ever saw.

'I am very pleased to meet you, too, Your Highness. I assure you I am neither your father's confidant, nor his spy. In fact, I don't even know him personally. People say that and it suits me not to set them straight. I know several of your mother's ladies in person, one of them has meant a lot to me at a certain time of my life when I needed some guidance. Nothing more, so please feel free to enjoy any entertainment Pemberley has to offer without it getting back to anyone.

And now, Your Highness, I am very proud to introduce you to my lady wife of almost four weeks, Mrs Anne Manners, née De Bourgh.'

Apparently this was Anne's cue, she had indeed been hiding behind him and now stepped forward to meet the Prince of Wales' eyes. And Frederick instantly understood some of Darcy's feelings, for the look in Prince George's eyes was one of stunned admiration, and the slick ladies' man stood dumb for more seconds than mere role playing could account for. This was real.

Anne's kind and gentle voice broke the silence, despite the rank of her collocutor. She also offered him her hand, as if for him to kiss it.

'I am very pleased to meet you, Your Highness.'

Nothing more, that would have been unforgivably rude, whilst this was just covering up for a moment of weakness, as men were wont to do for one another. Anne was already getting used to being one of the boys. The Prince took her hand and kissed it with feeling, he was truly struck with Anne's beauty and presence, and while Frederick did not suffer from jealousy over this himself, he feared for Nick as he feared for Darcy. Oh all right, why fool himself? He didn't like another man drooling over his wife, not at all.

'Mrs Manners, I did read about your engagement, and I read the descriptions of your dress, and your poise, and your beauty. But mere descriptions cannot do justice to the sweet reality, your beauty is beyond this world.'

While most ladies would be thrilled to hear such words, Frederick knew Anne still thought of herself as the thin, tired girl she'd seen in the mirror for the past ten years, and though she didn't show her discomfort, he knew it would be there and she would not fall for flattery. But the Prince still had intelligent conversation and a true love for the arts in his arsenal of attractions. Well, Frederick had told Anne she would be free do do as pleased her in their marriage and he was not going to come back on his promise. That was between Anne and Nick.

'Thank you, Your Highness. Didn't the paper also mention the love between my husband and myself, even when we were merely engaged?'

Someone was taking cues from Elizabeth! And it worked, for Prince George looked chastised and said with a genuine smile, 'It did most eloquently, and I have to admit I also read Mr Goodfellow's account of your very private wedding. Some newspapers wrote that had to be false information, Mr Manners would never get married without throwing the best party of all times, but I know Mr Goodfellow is a friend of the family. For the Bachelor of Bachelors to marry in private he must be very much in love, and you are indeed a charming couple. Mr Manners, you married a veritable jewel, beautiful and smart as well. Rumours say you have the same vice as I, but I hope they were as faulty as those making you my father's lackey.'

Don't worry, Prince George, Frederick would make Anne happy, and she'd never lack for anything in her life, especially not love. Of course he couldn't say that out loud, but he would tell him part of the truth.

'I guess I do have a vice, but not the one the papers mention. That is also a thing I let them believe because I could not be bothered to defend myself against it. Instead I use it to my advantage. But I assure you that Mrs Manners knew me much better than any reporter before she agreed to marry me.'

'And who says I don't have my own vice, Your Highness? I suppose reporters like to believe that ladies from a certain class, or maybe women in general, are incapable of impropriety. So they haven't made one up for me. But that they don't want to see it doesn't mean it isn't there.'

Cheeky Anne, and so smart. Diverting the Prince's attention to herself so Darcy wouldn't have to be jealous. Elizabeth would give her a medal. And hopefully a warning to keep Nick informed, for the servants had come in to bring tea and they would hear things and talk, maybe not to outsiders, but certainly among themselves.

Now deadly serious, Prince George replied, 'You are so right, Mrs Manners, I'd say ladies are as capable of vice and sin as any gentleman, though if they are caught their punishment is much more severe. And I do believe that is because both women and men are unwilling to accept that a woman has the same basic drives as a man, despite both being in essence children of nature, not higher forms of life.'

That was an interesting surmise and they pursued it over tea, which was decidedly richer than usual with fruits, cold meats and pastries, but also pie and whipped cream, and even a number of sticky sweets Frederick had never seen served before on Darcy's table.


	139. Chapter 139

Chapter 149

When the remains of a fine tea had been cleared away by two maids, the weather had also cleared a little, and Elizabeth told their party she dared risk a ramble in the woods. Though Anne knew Elizabeth would happily go all by herself, Anne wanted to talk to her and to Nick, and going out was the perfect way to manage both. Darcy was not going to leave his wife's side while the Prince of Wales was in the house, but Anne wanted to talk to Nick and Elizabeth alone, so Frederick would have to come, too, to distract Anne's forceful cousin. One look was enough to assure her new husband's presence, and one look to Eric was enough to assure Prince George's absence. Well, a look and a little gesture, or maybe a few gestures, of the two of them playing for him. Eric nodded, and offered, 'Your Highness, I suppose you have had enough of a drenching for today, and no-one has proven that walking in the rain isn't detrimental to one's health anyway, so would you mind staying in and listening to my new work?'

Of course the man accepted eagerly, Anne didn't doubt he had really come for Eric's music, it did tend to get stuck in one's mind. And rummage in one's memories, picking out those most likely to affect one's feelings, but that didn't usually happen the first time one listened to it. It hadn't for Anne, anyway.

So they left Prince George to Georgiana and Eric, and while the others waited for their coats, Anne fetched Nick from his small room, where he was reading a thin book, more like a journal.

'It's mighty interesting, this rich man, still a boy actually, travels exactly where we want to go, except maybe thirty years ago. You know Fielding is right, it gets pretty exciting in places, and not like Pierre's travels but with bandits and worse. Of course thirty years is a long time, but still I'm glad Frederick is teaching us to shoot.'

She took him in her arms, glad he hadn't seen what had happened in the drawing-room, but he needed to know for those maids might have heard what she said and tell the rest of the staff, which meant that sooner or later Nick would hear of it. He needed to know it was all an act, to keep Prince George entertained and turn his attention away from Frederick and Elizabeth. Prince George was not like other men, he was reputed to be devilishly clever, and Anne had no doubt he knew that men could be in love with men. He'd add two and two in seconds, Frederick had to be more careful talking to him. But first, Nick.

'We're going for a walk, will you come with us? I need to talk to you and Elizabeth, about the Prince.'

'Sure, if you think no-one minds my coming along.'

'You need to be there, and you're my guard, how can you guard me if you're not with me?'

'I am convinced. Let me get my boots and coat, it's still miserable out there.'

The others were already dressed to go out, and Frederick held Anne's coat for her, then handed Nick an umbrella.

'Will you keep my lady dry, Nick?'

'I certainly will, master.'

After a whole month of juggling familiarity and formality, and a thorough heart-to-heart talk with Frederick right after the wedding, Nick was as accomplished as Simon at being humble in public and equal in private. Darcy no longer frowned at him when he sounded servile, he knew it was Nick trying his best to protect Darcy's cousin. Teaching Frederick, Simon and Eric dirty fighting and letting Darcy join, at his own request, had done wonders for her cousin's respect towards Nick. Some might call Darcy arrogant, but when he was learning something his teacher was his master for as long as the lesson lasted, and that attitude had enabled him to outstrip Eric within a mere week of joining their lessons. Of course Eric was not fighter material, he had only learned to escape an attacker then find help. Simon did a little better but wasn't a born fighter either. But Darcy had the right attitude, he had almost caught up with Frederick though he'd never be as strong, and Frederick had given even Nick a challenge with his solid build and his past as college wrestler. Still, Darcy made an excellent sparring partner these days.

And Nick had forced Anne and requested Georgiana to learn the same as Eric, how to escape from an attacker then get away, and then Georgiana thought she knew enough. But Anne wanted more, and Nick did not hesitate to give her more, so now she also knew ways to disarm an attacker and how to follow up, even using Nick's slapjack. They often wrestled before going to sleep, their efforts usually ending in frantic lovemaking, but never again without Nick's protections. Despite Anne's bantering about children that afternoon she was waiting for her moon time anxiously, for the very first time in her life. It should be there any day, and it was announcing itself with some bothersome physical discomforts, but Anne feared those might be the same that indicated a pregnancy.

But anyway, since Nick had floored Darcy a few times to show him anger was a bad basis for an attack, then taught him how to get rid of the anger and stay calm under any circumstance, Darcy had accepted him as one of their own. In fact, Darcy might have used Nick's tricks to stay calm in the face of Prince George's charming greeting of Elizabeth.

They left the house in twos and threes, Darcy and Frederick in the lead, and Anne and Elizabeth following with Nick as their attendant, holding Anne's umbrella over her and him, while Elizabeth protected herself against rain with her very own umbrella.

'I actually prefer just getting wet, but I'm afraid it'll hurt my dignity,' Elizabeth observed.

'No-one is going to see you out here, ma'am,' Nick offered respectfully.

'I know,' she replied, 'but every time I come back into the house after doing something less than respectable, Mrs Reynolds comes passing by and catches me at it. I'm convinced she doesn't do that on purpose, but when she sees me wet through I'm sure she'll look at me in a certain way that makes me feel very young and very countrified.'

As the rain pattered on their umbrellas and the gardens made way for the woods of the circuit, the path beside the river that was open for visitors, Nick just smiled at Elizabeth's funny remark, and Anne prepared to warn Nick that the Prince of Wales seemed to admire Anne a lot and some of the staff might have heard her not exactly discouraging him for his flattery. But Elizabeth was ahead of her, and maybe for the best.

'You know we have a surprise visitor, do you Nick?'

'I do, Frederick told me when we were moving that little black piano to the drawing-room. I went back to my room afterwards, to read up on the Lower Countries, but I certainly hope I'll get to meet him. Imagine, Mrs Darcy receiving a visit from the Prince of Wales.'

Anne was shocked to hear Nick actually teasing Elizabeth with Prince George's supposed preference for her but Elizabeth was deadly serious, though not offended by Nick's presumption.

'He is actually Eric's visitor, Nick, come all by himself, aching to hear Eric's music again. But obviously you know the Prince of Wales' reputation beyond his being a lover of culture in all its aspects. He is an admirer of beautiful, intelligent women, all of those, not just my own charming person, and you happen to love one of those. Prince George really admires Anne, and you know he doesn't respect the vows of matrimony all that much.'

Now Elizabeth looked at Anne to explain her position to Nick, who had gotten the message and was listening in all seriousness.

'I do not want him, Nick, but neither do I want to insult him. So I have been kinder than I might have wished to be, also to draw his attention away from Elizabeth, since Darcy was right there with us and he does have a temper. You and Frederick are more controlled. Some of the maids were present, they may talk. Please don't misunderstand, I love only you, I don't want to have anything to do with him. But I will have to be kind to him for a few more days, and I suppose we will see a little less of each other with a visitor present who shouldn't know about us. But we'll be together all night, won't we?'

Anne missed him already, they'd had such great times in their explorer's haunt.

'You do not have to jump for anyone, Anne, not even the Heir Presumptive,' Elizabeth now interjected. 'If you want the afternoons or evenings to prepare for your trip just take them and retreat to the second floor. Eric and Georgiana will entertain our guest with music, he did not use that as an excuse, the music really did haunt him. We're out of sight of the house, you can take a few minutes together right here, and I'll join our husbands.'

But that wouldn't do for Anne, she really needed to warn Frederick that his cleverness was no match for the Prince's, or at least that he had too much to lose to match wits with the devious heir to the throne.

'I have to warn Frederick, he was not careful enough towards the Prince. The man is much older and schooled in intrigue than he is used to, he cannot drop any kind of hint of our true relationship. It's just too dangerous. Most men don't want to acknowledge the possibility of love between two men, but from what you have told me, Elizabeth, I wouldn't be surprised if the Prince's clique is so worldly-wise that they know it exists. Any hint may lead to discovery and shame. I'm sorry, Nick, but our time together will have to wait.'

She did take the time to kiss him, she wanted to, she had missed him. But Nick wasn't upset at all.

'Whatever happens, Anne, I will not desecrate our love with petty jealousy. I've seen scores of women, even though you're the only one for me now. I'm not going to drive you away with base feelings, that would make me a terrible hypocrite. You be as close to Prince George as you like, I suppose he is a nice man despite his little weaknesses, and I am certain he would be an excellent man to have on your side. I mean, he will be the king one day. Just enjoy yourself, and be you, and return to me at night. I will survive, just as I survived the wedding. Let the maids talk, I love you and I want you to be happy. Now go warn Frederick for I think you are right, he does tend to think himself very clever and he may have met his match in Prince George.'

Anne rushed away to catch up with the two gentlemen, carrying her own umbrella, leaving Nick to take shelter under Elizabeth's. Of course she preferred to get wet anyway. They would certainly find something to talk about for ten minutes, Elizabeth really liked Nick and Nick adored Elizabeth as much as any man.

When the two gentlemen saw her trying to catch up they halted for a few moments, then went on together, Anne between the two of them.

'You warned Nick what happened just now? I suppose even my staff will talk about the Prince of Wales staring at you in admiration. I feel for Nick, though I'm not out of the woods myself by a long shot.'

'You are out of the woods? What about Elizabeth, Darcy? She is the one in the middle, with Prince George flattering her and you trying not to show your anger.'

Darcy looked suitably chastened and explained, 'I know, I am very aware of my own failing and what it does to my beloved. I'm sorry I expressed myself selfishly, I assure you I will see things from Elizabeth's perspective the coming days.'

'Good. Though I suppose she is strong enough, as am I. I feel more for Nick than for myself. I'm not afraid of Prince George, Darcy, he is a decent man if a philanderer. But he will not use his power to force a woman in his bed. I am planning to enjoy this visit, and I suggest you let Elizabeth do the same. It is not often that we get the chance to meet someone of such superior understanding. Nick understands, I hope you will, too. I am mostly concerned for someone else entirely.'

Now Frederick looked astounded.

'Who? What, me? Why? I'm not jealous of His Highness!'

'Not for my love, no. But we are married, and for the Prince to make eyes at your wife of three weeks may insult your dignity.'

Anne could see Frederick wanting to protest, but the silenced him with an imperative gesture and went on, 'You must be very careful not to try to prove to him that you don't love me that way, that his attentions don't hurt you. For he is smarter than anyone you know, and you do not want him to get curious about why we got married if we are not in love, and whom we love instead. For do not think the Prince of Wales does not know two men can be in love, he is the most worldly-wise gentleman you've ever met, he may be more worldly-wise than you, or even Simon. Remember the goings-on Elizabeth described? Do you think the Prince doesn't know exactly what is happening in his circle?'

Frederick hung his head, then kissed Anne chastely.

'I bow before your wisdom, Anne. You caught me out, I did exactly what you said. And I agree it is dangerous. Do you want me to pretend to be hurt or jealous?'

'No Frederick, I want you to be careful! You do not have to act what you are not, just admitting you do not want him to steal your wife despite not loving her is enough. Don't act more than you feel, he will notice, just don't try to actively prove you don't care, it can only cost you. Just be silent. Say nothing. It will give him no information, and it will make you seem unfathomable and mysterious, which I'm sure you can live with.'

'It's a lot better than being glaringly jealous like myself,' Darcy observed bitterly.

'It was not that obvious, Darcy, you controlled yourself admirably,' Anne dared state, 'and do not fault yourself for being part of a perfect match. You should be jealous of that, it is worth protecting. And I'm certain the Prince respects you for it.

Besides, you're the handsomest gentleman present, who would dare compete with you? You're rich, respected, and you have the best team of horses anyone knows of. Why feel threatened?'

Both gentlemen now stared at Anne in awe, Frederick, of course, the first to recover. He smiled from ear to ear, his good humour restored.

'Anne, you make me so proud to be your husband! You are so right about our Prince, and I will do as you advise, just be myself and say nothing. Well, I suspect I'll say plenty, but nothing of substance. I will be the perfect company and keep my own counsel. Thank you so much, I think you are right, trying to prove I have no emotional ties to you serves no function but hubris, and as we all know that deserves to be punished. May I embrace you?'

'You most certainly may. As long as you understand there will be others.'

All three laughed, and when Frederick had released Anne after a well-meant, warm embrace, Darcy took her in his arms.

'She warned you, after all,' he said to Frederick, and to Anne, 'thank you, Anne, for your explanation. Mr Kimble, the well-known actor, tried before but I think I'm a bit dense. You make it so much clearer. I understand now: I take Prince George on a ride behind my thoroughbreds and he understands he hasn't got a chance. Easy as that.'

Only the tiniest bit flustered by her handsome cousin's warmth, Anne still understood instantly that no status, no riches, not even towering intellect could compete with so much love. He seemed so cold, but his reticence hid a burning love that Elizabeth basked in every single day of their life together. No mere prince could come between those two. And she herself felt such appreciation, such belonging, her life was filled with all kinds of love she had never even thought existed.

By now, Elizabeth and Nick had caught up with them, and Darcy released Anne straight into Nick's arms, where she kissed her beloved as she hadn't done ten minutes earlier.

When everyone left the room except Eric and the Prince of Wales, Georgiana was not worried. Whatever Frederick said about the Heir Presumptive, whatever his reputation, Georgiana saw nothing but a well-educated middle-aged gentleman who truly loved music. Who loved music like few others did. Whereas most people merely enjoyed good music, even Fitzwilliam and maybe even Elizabeth, to a rare handful it was more than that. To Prince George, music was life. Georgiana wondered why he hadn't learned to play himself, it was the easiest way to enjoy life without having to depend on others. Of course to an heir to the throne dependence was an unknown factor, he could have music any time without having to beg others for it. Imposing on them, sure, but he most likely didn't even realise that. Most people were eager to please him.

But despite his obvious selfishness, Prince George was one of a select group, a group that recognised its own, the people to whom music was life. Mr Clementi was one, of course, and Mr Goodfellow and his friends. Both Eric and Georgiana had moved heaven and earth to better their lives by bettering their skills. Mr Zumpe sadly wasn't one of the group, though he didn't realise it. They had met others, but no-one had gone through more trouble to obtain more of the life Eric offered than this man, for a man he was right here with them, though his birth made him their legal ruler, or at least would make him that in a decade or less.

For now, the Prince knew he was at Eric's mercy, and he didn't blame him for that. Instead, he was positively excited about what was to come.

'Can I take this chair, Mr Fielding? I'd like to sit as close as possible, but some performers mind having their audience that close, say it hurts the music.'

Eric sat down at the Zumpe and replied airily, 'I'd agree in some cases. Some music cannot withstand close proximity, and some performers certainly can't. Though I suppose you don't have to listen to those. But the Zumpe is perfect for an intimate setting, and you are welcome to sit as close as you like. I suppose you would prefer to first satisfy that part of your mind that has been nagging you all this time? I know, I've had it myself, sometimes I could play for hours without hearing anything until after I played just that fragment. It cannot be denied.'

The pudgy man was amazed to hear of someone else, a talented composer at that, having the same affliction. Little did he know that almost everyone had those moments, but normal people just had to live with them, they couldn't summon a musician to a private audience or spend two weeks travelling to see them at their own residence. Georgiana had chosen to learn to play herself so she could satisfy her need for music. But even she had been privileged, to have time to practise, and money to buy an instrument and lessons.

'If you would be so kind, Mr Fielding. You are so right, I would try to listen to your new work and think of something sensible to say of it, but all this time I would be hearing those older works. If you would please play those first, then I'll be all the happier for having new compositions to listen to. Thank you.'

Georgiana decided to be polite so she seated herself next to Prince George, this time she was not going to play but rather enjoy the music she had so often heard already. Acknowledging her presence with a nod, the Prince showed an excitement that was truly endearing, and for a moment it was as if he was merely one of their friends. Then she remembered Frederick's warnings and reminded herself of his palace and his liveried staff, and how respectful and attentive everyone had been of him. And then Eric started to play.

He would play two compositions, his first concerto, the one he'd already finished when he had played a fragment of it for Georgiana and Elizabeth in London, still living with Mr Zumpe. And the second one, which had grown under the influence of his love for Georgiana, and his dismissal from Mr Zumpe's service, after which he came to live with the girl who had taken over his dreams. Eric credited Georgiana with being the inspiration of all his own work, and she knew he meant that. He had always had original music forming in his mind, but until he had fallen in love with his shy student it had never tried to take over his life. Now, it still did, something had awoken inside him and it was not going back to sleep, despite their happiness together the music kept coming. It was mostly glad music, but it was as beautiful as the older works.

Georgiana of course knew these compositions by heart, she could play most of them herself, though not at Eric's level, not yet. But still she felt his love, his hope and his despair, the night at the Ball that paved the way for his later fame and fortune, but nevertheless a night of agony for Eric himself, who had been steeling himself to leave Georgiana, in the firm conviction that she would not be allowed to marry a nobody.

Tears threatened, as always, and she tried to swallow them, a Darcy did not show her feelings in front of people she didn't know very well. But wait, was their guest blinking away tears himself? And why not, most people cried when they heard this the second, or third, or any other time. They didn't know what Eric had suffered but from their comments, the hundreds Georgiana alone had heard after a season of attending his public performances, she knew they all felt what Eric had felt, but under different circumstances that were very personal. Prince George, too, had known intense love and the fear to lose it, he had felt inadequate and thankless to someone he loved, and he had known hope for a better future, dashed by forces beyond his control. Truly?

She could not watch his expression, he'd notice, so instead she let herself be taken away by the music once again, ever more positive but still suffused with love. An occasional glimpse showed Prince George still very much affected, he wasn't all that bad, the papers exaggerated all the time, who knew better than Georgiana and Eric? Having been under scrutiny for months, Georgiana knew exactly how the reporters' fantasies often dictated the news. And that was just a couple of relatively unimportant musicians, imagine what they'd make up about an Heir Presumptive who didn't suit their dusty morals.

Playing the concerto and the second piece took considerably more than an hour, and when Eric was done Prince George was intensely quiet for several moments, then spoke with a husky voice, 'That was so beautiful, Mr Fielding, even better than I remembered. Your music has flayed my hardened elephant's hide right from my very soul, and pierced it again and again and again. I bow to your immense talent. Maybe I'll be able to talk of it later, but for now my nerves are still raw, my feelings right at the surface of my being. I knew this might happen, which is why I am glad it is just me and you two. You understand. My courtiers would mock me for being sentimental, and even your brother and his friend would only despise me for my lack of dignity.'

Georgiana knew that wasn't true, but trying to convince a man who had spent his entire life in the public eye that Fitzwilliam and Frederick were different was impossible and even more so, useless. What did it matter?

The prince now sounded much more sedate already.

'You clearly disagree and I am glad you do, for I would like to hear this again and again while I still can, commit it to memory, and I cannot promise myself I will not cry again.'

'My brother and Mr Manners are both feeling men, Your Highness, but their upbringing, like yours, doesn't allow them to show their feelings openly.'

'Don't I know, don't I know. The suffering we put our little boys and girls through to keep up appearances. We may have all the privileges, but the price is sometimes higher than I am prepared to pay. Had I known before what the life of an heir would be like...

Promise me you will not let your children suffer what your brother and his friends and I did, Mrs Fielding, Mr Fielding. Keep them with you until they know who they are, teach them all you know, and mostly about love. Did you go to school, Mr Fielding?'

'I did, Your Highness, but due to my talent I had special guidance from my music teachers. And I was not accepted by my peers, which sometimes made me feel lonely and worthless, but Georgiana and I have always had a faithful best friend: the piano.'

'My so-called friends may have given me the most grief of all, Mr Fielding. I would have given them, and my exalted position, up in a second, even then, to have your talent. Though your music speaks of hardship, too, it cannot have been easy to be a commoner on a boys' school, and I guess that was just the least of your difficulties.'

'Well, Your Highness, I think I was quite a happy boy. My true hardships only began when I fell in love with one of my students. A huge mistake, and one that cost me more than I'd ever thought, but ultimately brought me great happiness. It was when I fell in love with Miss Darcy that the music making itself heard within my mind wouldn't let me rest or practise anything else anymore, not until I had written it down. You heard the results just now.'

'And I hope to hear them again the coming days. Thank you so much, Mr Fielding, for indulging me, it was beyond compare. Now I'm very curious about those new compositions you wanted me to hear.'

And just like that, the charming prince was back, and the sensitive human being had once again been directed back to where a British gentleman kept his better self: hidden deep, deep within himself.

After their long ramble and the removing of pantaloons and skirts soaked to the skin, it was almost time for dinner, so all parties involved took their time washing, drying off and warming up. A private concert would take at least two hours, and Eric's new work plus discussing it would add another, there was no reason at all to return to the drawing-room quickly, so they all made sure they warmed up really thoroughly.

'I feel so much ashamed, my love, that I cannot just trust you and ignore Prince George's attentions towards you,' Darcy admitted. 'I mean, Nick was so calm about it, it must be as if I suspect you of being unfaithful to me.'

'You cannot compare yourself to Nick, my love. He has had scores of ladies, and they all wanted him to themselves. He knows his worth, and has had it proven to him over and over again. You waited for years to find the perfect woman for you, and then she bluntly rejected you, leaving you in agony. No matter how rich and handsome you are, my love, that memory cannot help your self-confidence. And besides, you are reticent by nature, he is outgoing. And frankly, he is used to being dependent on others, he knows what it is like to have no power over his fate. You don't. There are few men who can actually harm you, but the Prince of Wales is most certainly one of them. I don't blame you for being jealous, Fitzwilliam. Even Frederick felt it to some extent. Doesn't Anne just immediately see through people?'

'She does. And you are totally right about my being jealous. I just cannot help it, it has nothing to do with you, which is why I will come to terms with it myself, I will try not to make it your problem.'

'And if you do, I will just order you to our bed and spank you. That ought to prove to you I still love you. Even if you misbehave. Just don't do it in before the Prince, my love. And talk to me, Fitzwilliam, I cannot help you cope if I don't know what you think.'

'You are so strong, my dearest Elizabeth. It's so good to rely on your strength sometimes, it makes me feel so safe. Please don't let my jealousy spoil the Prince's visit for you, I know you like him. How are you feeling, my love? Do you still think you may be with child?'

That just escaped him, he had not asked before because he was afraid to disconcert her, but since he did want to know how she felt he didn't regret letting such a blunt question slip. She did look surprised, but fortunately not put out.

'Quite thrilled, actually. To think that the Prince of Wales braved this weather to hear Eric's music. With his patronage, even if they cannot go to the continent because of the war they will be able to advance their career in music. I think they both still have a lot to learn from Mr Clementi, and with a powerful patron they can meet all the people who matter.

And yes, beloved, I do think I may be with child. I have not had my moon time and I should have a week ago. Still, I have been late before, moving house tends to do that, and I have none of the complaints associated with a pregnancy. So I guess it's too early to tell, but I didn't lose the weight I gained in London, despite having been incredibly active for the last three weeks. I'm merely waiting what happens, I'm not celebrating yet, nor do I fear losing my freedom any longer. We'll just have to convince Jane to buy an estate in these parts that much sooner.'

Somehow, the idea that Elizabeth might be carrying his child made the Prince of Wales' presence that much easier to bear. It was a despicable thought, to want to tie his wife to him with his child, to make her dependent on him, but Darcy couldn't help thinking it. Part of him was prepared to forgive himself for his jealousy, it was who he was, he couldn't help feeling it. But mostly he was determined to fight it, and he would win, he would trust his lovely Elizabeth, and if his jealousy made him feel humble or angry he'd excuse himself and search out Fowler. It would remove him from temptation to make a scene and maybe offer the opportunity to share his frustration with a man who seemed much more able to deal with not being in control of his own life.

And Nick indeed wasn't worried about Prince George's admiration of Anne. He knew there was nothing he could do about it anyway, and though he hadn't met the Prince in person, he could see Anne didn't feel attracted to him at all. In fact, he admired her for planning to direct his attentions to herself to spare her cousin the agonies of jealousy. Nick had come to appreciate their host a lot more these last few weeks, he was kind and no longer seemed to find Nick beneath Anne's notice, and was letting Nick know that. Of course it had helped that Nick had shown the gentleman how to keep his cool in the most aggravating circumstances, a simple trick of the mind he had picked up to keep himself from strangling Wellesley.

And Nick loved the life of a gentleman, riding his magnificent Liquor, feeling on top of the world to find Anne watching him with admiration as he managed to impose his will on that strong and lively gelding, either in the riding paddock, trying to perform the exercises Peter or Sarah said would strengthen his bond with the fractious horse, or outside in Mr Darcy's huge park, racing Mrs Darcy's wiry gelding, trying their first jumps.

The riding was the best thing, besides being with Anne most of the time, but Nick loved all of it, billiards, shooting, fishing, reading travel journals, poring over maps. And the food, and the brandy! Most of the time he was part of the tightly knit group of explorers, but he also enjoyed being in the back of the house a few hours each day, his friendship with Simon ever deepening, helping Dora to read and write, having the occasional long talks with Mrs Reynolds and Brewer, the steward, the comradery of the stable staff who all seemed to admire him more than he deserved, even Hugo, who was not the reckless philanderer here but truly in charge of his domain. No, this was an excellent life, and he would not risk it out of sheer jealousy. If Anne did indeed show an interest in the prince, or the fellow started to make serious advances towards her, it was early enough to start getting upset. He did want to meet the man but couldn't imagine a situation that wouldn't make such a worldly-wise man suspicious. Both Simon and himself had accepted that they would probably see much less of their partners for as long as their royal guest was at Pemberley.

'You're quiet, but you're not upset at all, are you?' Anne's sweet voice asked. She was lying in his arms, enjoying their closeness for a few more moments before Dora would arrive to help her mistress dress for dinner. At least there was one inhabitant of this huge house who was nothing but pleased to have such an important visitor: instead of walking about in riding skirts all day her mistress would want to look her best, and Dora could try all the new tricks and fashions she'd learned from Fanny before they would be picked at by the London critics next fall.

'No, surprisingly little. I don't want to lose you to the Prince of Wales, but I don't think that will happen. He's old, isn't he?'

'Almost forty, and decidedly on the tubby side. I'll try to get you included in an outing so you can meet him, but we have to be really careful.'

'I know. It's better not to take a risk, though I'll be sorry to be so close to him and not get to see him. I could put on a livery and serve tonight.'

She didn't like that at all, but Nick didn't mind serving others. He'd done that almost his entire life and this time it was the safest way to indulge his curiosity.

'Please don't do it, Nick,' Anne said, 'what if you see or hear something you don't like and give yourself away? What if something happens I know you won't like and I give us away? I will find a way for you to see Prince George, I promise.'

'If you don't want me to serve dinner, I won't. I love you, Anne, and I'd do anything to make you happy.'

Of course Simon wanted to know everything that had happened and Frederick told him in detail, feeling rather obviously guilty that Simon missed so much of the fun, even more so than Nick.

'I think I'll help with the serving tonight, to catch a glimpse of the Prince of Wales before he leaves.'

'I may be able to do better, if you're not averse to serving a pudgy almost-forty-year-old: he has no staff of his own and I suspect he is used to being waited on hand and foot. He looked a bit rumpled today and the papers never mentioned him as anything but well dressed. I could offer him your services for his most basic needs. You might hear something interesting.'

That would mean being treated like a servant, but Prince George didn't have a bad reputation for either mistreating servants or bad personal hygiene. It seemed too good a chance to satisfy his curiosity to pass on, if Prince George wasn't too paranoid to accept such a favour from someone who had been set up by his advisors as his father's puppet.

'I think I can survive bathing and dressing a middle-aged man, and maybe do his hair. If he dares to trust a member of your staff so intimately. He may still think you are his father's spy, you know.'

'Then he can refuse the offer. I'll find a good moment to make my proposal, and I'll let you know.'

And that was enough talk, if they were to see less of each other, the least they could do was make their time together count.


	140. Chapter 140

Chapter 150

Dinner wasn't uncomfortable at all, Fitzwilliam seemed to have settled a lot, Elizabeth had suffered Fanny to dress her but not all out, it wouldn't do to tempt Prince George, though somehow she didn't think he would be that impressed by Elizabeth's best attempt at fashion, he was surrounded by riches and had been all his life. And those dresses the ladies wore at court, to Elizabeth's eyes they were ludicrously old-fashioned, but Prince George was from a different era and might look upon them as the standard for ladies' accoutrement.

But when they sat down in the drawing room for drinks the Prince of Wales seemed nothing so much as distracted, he greeted all of them heartily enough, and his eyes did light up at the sight of Elizabeth and especially Anne, but he did not start a lively conversation as he could so expertly. His mind was obviously elsewhere. He offered them a wistful little smile and the best and most logical excuse, that made him even more sympathetic to Elizabeth and no doubt everyone present in the drawing-room.

'I'm sorry I'm not up to being entertaining, I'm still coming to terms with a lot of feelings that were stirred up by Mr Fielding's music. I didn't expect it to hit me this hard, I've had a lot of practice controlling my feelings, everyone is always ready to judge my reason, my personality, my taste. I've grown used to keeping a certain distance. I went into your drawing-room eager to be entertained, and was caught totally unaware.'

That was almost sad, though it did resemble Fitzwilliam's and Frederick's way of dealing with life, as unfair as how ladies were expected to always behave properly and never even feel the need to do something active or vaguely interesting. Of course gentlemen, too, had to bow to convention. They could be active, were in fact expected to, but they were absolutely forbidden to show their feelings in public.

'We've all felt the power of Mr Fielding's music, Your Highness, we'll just let you recover in your own time. I suppose you will be feeling your wet and cold ride as well. Please do not put yourself out, we'll entertain each other and you may join in if you feel like it.'

Should Anne be so kind, could it bring anything but trouble, with Prince George already partial to her? But maybe they shouldn't hold his reputation against him so much, he was a reasonable man, why judge him by what the paper said about him? Though Elizabeth did remember a certain proposal.

Nothing special happened during dinner, except that they had it in the incredibly ornate formal dining room that Elizabeth had saved from Fitzwilliam's urge to modernise his houses, and maybe his fear of being judged for the extravagance of his forebears. Appreciation for style was an excellent trait in a man of means but one that would have been taken too far if it had caused this lovely, authentic-looking room to be destroyed. Despite the opulence, dinner was much the same as usual, the conversation lively but slightly more general than other evenings. They decided to go out for a ride the next day if the weather permitted, and for few moments the prince came back to life and begged to be included in their party. Of course they hadn't even considered not taking him along, and Fitzwilliam even meant his heartfelt invitation.

The food was their usual as well, which was really good, though not up to royal standards. But Prince George didn't seem to notice at all, he ate heartily, and when Simon brought the cook's efforts at confectionery his eyes lighted up once more. There was no chocolate, nor any exotic fruits, but it was a creditable walnut-and-honey concoction with marzipan, and they all enjoyed it very much, the prince no less despite his employing two French pastry chefs himself.

It was a sign how much Simon belonged to their household that Elizabeth didn't think anything of his helping with the serving, in a Pemberley livery, until he winked at her when he took away her plate. She could barely hold back a cry of surprise, he wasn't even part of their staff anymore, and Frederick hated it when he had to stay in the back of the house, let alone help with the serving! He had probably begged Mrs Reynolds to be allowed to serve something, anything, to get a glimpse of the company gathered at the table. And waiting to clear up after them afforded him an opportunity to watch them that much longer. Nobody really saw servants, though Prince George might be the exception, he apparently distrusted them, and rightfully so, since most loved to gossip.

Still, it wouldn't do to tell Simon right here that she was onto him, it could only give their friends' involvement away, so she merely smiled at him and thanked him for his service. Soon after, the ladies retreated to the drawing-room, where they played the piano for half an hour, Anne proving she had not neglected to practise despite all the distractions of the last few weeks. When the gentlemen returned Eric and Georgiana would probably provide the music, and Elizabeth and Anne would take up their work and continue to perfect the little dresses they were working on.

Half an hour turned into three quarters of an hour, and then the mood among the gentlemen seemed the total reverse of what it had been before: Prince George was almost exuberant, though still the perfect gentleman, and he was talking with energy with Frederick, of all people. Elizabeth had truly expected the prince to remain slightly aloof towards a man who was supposed to be intimate with his father, but apparently Frederick's easy manners had won over even the Prince of Wales.

'You say he is not going to spoil me for court garb? I can get away with wearing pantaloons, but a black cravat, that is absolutely impossible. My advisors would slap my wrist instantly, maybe even literally.

I must say, Manners, I appreciate your offer, I've been feeling slightly grubby for the last three days, it was such a brave idea to go haring off with just a few armsmen and two of my youngest courtiers, but I have missed Enrique more than a little. You know he speaks little English, but I don't mind, it forces me to keep my Spanish up to date.'

Elizabeth wondered whether Spanish was difficult to learn, but she could understand the prince employing a foreign valet, since such a man would not have many friends to gossip to, nor the right connections to spill harmful knowledge about his master and his household to the newspapers.

'Simon is as English as breakfast tea, a born Londoner actually, but he is clean, attentive and very close-mouthed. You'll feel better straight away. I'll have him step by your room tonight, he can help you bathe and set your wardrobe to rights so you can ride out with us tomorrow without worrying about having things cleaned or starched. Of course he'll be over in the morning to help you dress.'

'Won't that inconvenience you, Manners? I don't want to impose on you.'

'No problem, there will be plenty of time left for Simon to spend on me.'

Hadn't Anne warned Frederick against being smart with Prince George? Did he want the man to find out how much time Frederick spent with his valet? And what did Simon think of serving the crown prince? Well, they probably discussed that before Frederick offered, and it wasn't any of Elizabeth's business anyway.

'Mrs Darcy, may I join you and Mrs Manners in your cosy corner here? I promise I will not distract you too much from your work.'

The charmer was back, hopefully Fitzwilliam would manage to control himself.

'You certainly may, Your Highness, we can work and chat at the same time.'

Anne looked like a painting of the Madonna, dressed in white muslin, a lamp set out to help her see her work illuminating her blonde drooping curls from behind, stitching a seam in what was obviously a baby's garment. Prince George watched her with a mixture of adulation and vague terror. He couldn't think she was with child within three weeks of her wedding, could he? Anne didn't seem to notice his attention, she merely set a few tiny, precise stitches, then looked up as if unaware of the prince watching her. Finally seeing him she said, 'Oh, I'm sorry Your Highness, I didn't notice you coming in, I'm not as good as I'd like to be at this, not yet. I need to pay attention or I'll have to pull out stitches and that never gives a good result. Do you like it so far?'

With only Frederick sitting there she'd never had any trouble at all, stitching and chatting at the same time, Anne was certainly clever enough for the Prince of Wales, keeping an eye on him with him none the wiser.

'Oh, ah, um...' she really had him now, he sounded acutely uncomfortable, but this was not a shy boy, this was a man raised to rule a country. He recuperated quickly and replied with humour, 'I guess it must be beautiful, but I really cannot tell the quality of the fabric and of your work from here. Might I sit a little closer and do it justice?'

Clever fox, she could just hand it to him to look at closer. Although that wasn't always a good idea, the little dress was made of a pristine white satin and would show every blemish a torn callus or broken nail might inflict on it. But Anne didn't mind playing with the prince, and she looked at the seat right next to her to invite him over. Of course he changed seats in a bare second, sat as close to Anne as was still proper, and intently studied the beautiful satin dress, embroidered with simple geometrical shapes, no flowers on this dress for it was destined for Alexander Spencer, Anne's little nephew. Prince George even dared pose the question, though very discreetly.

'Is that a little child's dress?'

Anne beamed and replied, 'Isn't it beautiful? Can you imagine a baby not looking like a little angel in it?'

Perfect, but that wasn't what Prince George wanted to know. Had Mrs Manners been with child even before she got married? Had she married a plain and slightly older, but wealthy and entertaining, gentleman to cover up a dangerous liaison that had left her with child? Would she consider a few nights spent in another exciting affair? The harm had been done anyway. No, Elizabeth berated herself, that was taking her fantasies a bit far, Anne looked more like an angel than an adulteress, not even the worldly-wise prince could suspect the truth.

'It's absolutely beautiful, Mrs Manners. Those aren't flowers, are they?'

'No, they aren't. It's for a boy, you see.'

Elizabeth imagined she could see him think, how did she know it was a boy? But Anne wasn't cruel and relieved the pain of his curiosity.

'It's for my cousin's boy, Your Highness.'

'Mr Darcy is your cousin, isn't he?'

Now Prince George looked at Elizabeth in wonder, as if to see signs that she was carrying a baby boy. Anne smiled cheekily and observed, 'I have two other cousins, Your Highness. Alexander Spencer Compton is a month old by now, and according to his father the most beautiful child in all of England.'

'So you're sewing for your cousin's baby?'

'Yes, it feels so good to do something useful and beautiful. I was very sick for ten years, you see, I never could do anything at all. And now I feel much better and I want to make up for lost time, but somehow I'm so much older and wiser that embroidering centre pieces at my level of skill seems a waste of time and materials. And beading purses and covering screens is for young girls, I prefer to spend my time and resources to a purpose.'

Prince George's face had fallen, as if he'd imagined beautiful Anne ailing.

'No, Mrs Manners, please tell me you didn't suffer for ten years!'

'I wasn't in pain so I wouldn't call it suffering, Your Highness, I was merely listless and lacking energy. Which is why I'm very glad to be at Pemberley now, learning to ride and shoot, and working on a tiny dress.'

'But... you look so healthy now. Did you find a miracle cure?'

'I didn't need a miracle cure, Your Highness, my mother had her quack doctor bleed me twice a week, nearly costing me my life and certainly my youth. Getting away from him meant a quick recovery.'

Now the prince was truly stunned, shocked, really.

'You said you were ill for ten years. Do you mean to say that was all due to bloodletting?'

'It was, Your Highness. A London doctor estimated how much blood my mother's favourite had taken, then said I might have felt weak but I must be very strong for a lot of people would have died of the loss of so much of their life's blood. No doctor or surgeon is ever going to come near me again with a lancet.'

'Mrs Manners, what you say disturbs me greatly. I do not see my father very often but I know he is often a little indisposed, and I also know he has regular bloodlettings. You mean to say that is harmful? I have in fact been bled sometimes myself, I cannot say I felt much better afterwards, but I didn't feel about to die. Are you certain you weren't unknowingly afflicted with some dangerous illness?'

He meant consumption, Elizabeth could just see it in him, but no-one ever recovered from consumption.

'What illness could have drained my life and spirit for ten years, then disappear in a matter of four weeks without leaving a trace, Your Highness? I was bled twice a week for a decade, I lost enough blood to fill this whole room. But please let us not talk any longer about that terrible waste of years, I'm perfectly healthy now and eager to make up for lost time: I am going to ride and fish and ramble all summer, and then I'm going to dance and go to parties and the theatre all winter.'

'I believe you, Mrs Manners, and I will heed your request, you have indeed suffered enough. Just one thing, if you please: should I warn my father about the bloodletting? I'm rather worried that something similar is happening to him. They can be so hard to refuse, those physicians with their wise words, but when one is not feeling well what is to be done but trust to their one treatment? I'm very healthy but I remember being ill sometimes, one's will becomes as weak as one's body.'

Anne now became very serious.

'I would indeed try to warn your father. But most people believe their doctors and would not listen. What if you were to send for the doctor who helped me find the right food to regain my strength quickly? His name is Dr Parker, my husband can help you find him. He makes a strong case against bloodletting and is an outstanding physician, he knows the human body like no other. Looks the part, too, which is not unimportant when trying to convince a powerful man that something he has believed in all his life is actually harming him. For do not be mistaken, Your Highness, though you are a hale man in your prime, even to you a bloodletting does more harm than good. Your father may very well be suffering more, and as his complaints increase so will his doctors increase the amount of blood they steal from him. They prey on the sick.'

'You have convinced me. No bloodletting for me, no matter how ill I were to get, and I will contact this doctor and try to think of a way to let my father know his danger. Maybe my mother will listen to reason. Thank you very much, and now we will close this subject, I would not inconvenience you for the world, or you might refuse to visit Carlton House this winter when you are in town.'

Anne was learning to play the game quickly, she showed no sign of pleasure or dismay at this prospect. Instead, she nodded pleasurably and changed the subject altogether, never stopping setting neat stitches in the hem of the tiny satin dress.

'Is it true that you love sweets, Your Highness?'

'According to some reporters it's my least offensive vice, Mrs Manners. So yes, I admit I am very fond of sweets. I just loved that strange-looking concoction we had tonight, I think I may have had too many rare ingredients lately, I'd forgotten how tasteful honey and nuts can be. Though I wish you could taste some of my confectioners' works, Mrs Manners, like Mrs Darcy here. You liked their creations, didn't you?'

Elizabeth had certainly loved chocolate in any shape, and though Anne hadn't liked sweets at all when they had first gotten to really know her, she had appreciated Mr Blackwood's special pies, and Mrs Brewer's pie when they'd visited her about a week after her return from London. Mrs Brewer! Why hadn't they thought of her? Prince George would love her pastries, pies and sweets, although she'd die on the spot if he visited and she knew he was the Prince of Wales. Who was waiting for an answer, watching Elizabeth with humour.

'I'm sorry, your question reminded me of a delicious pie I ate recently. I loved your cakes and hot chocolate and sweets, and not just their taste. They were so incredibly beautiful!'

'Dare we ask Mrs Brewer to be allowed to visit? I think His Highness would love her work, art as well as pie.'

So Anne started this topic thinking of visiting Juliette Brewer. Who hadn't been as shy as Elizabeth expected when she had taken Georgiana and Anne to see her. Two weeks in town, and seeing a specialist, had done the steward's wife a world of good.

'I'm not as strange as I thought, Mrs Darcy,' she'd told Elizabeth, visibly relieved, 'Mrs Annesley told me a lot of people in London dress like I do, and she is such a great artist herself, she understands so perfectly how I feel living among women who care only for keeping a pristine house or sewing useful things. We had dinner with her and her husband and children, and she showed me her most precious works, at her home. They were all beautiful, and yet her house was as clean as any I've seen.'

As if Juliette's house hadn't been spotless, and without even the help of a maid! Where did they find the time to do so many things? Elizabeth had felt a little bit lacking compared to Mrs Annesley and Mrs Brewer. As well as a bit envious of the trust Mrs Brewer had gained from Mrs Annesley to have been invited to meet her husband, still failing but hanging on to see his children grow up. But of course Mrs Brewer had no other connections in London, and she was of Mrs Annesley's level of society and an artist like her. And maybe Mrs Annesley had had a second objective, showing the younger couple the tragedy in her life to inspire them to cope with their own.

'And Mrs Annesley advised me to not just see Dr Parker, but also a lady who had seen to your friend Mrs Collins when she had some trouble when staying over. So we visited her as well, in a totally different neighbourhood, but she was so kind, and so knowledgeable, we talked as much as an hour, and she asked as many questions as the doctor did, and many of the same. She advised me some herbal remedies and assured me most women in her practice were able to have a child eventually. I was so relieved, Mrs Darcy, after that I was able to have the time of my life at the theatre, and shopping at Miss Filliger's like you said, I'll wear those dresses to church and my own at home.

Thank you so much, Mrs Darcy, you and Mr Darcy, for pushing Nathan to go to London. I didn't want to but it was the best thing to do.'

Again, Anne and Prince George were watching her with a twinkle in their eyes.

'You're so much less tense, Mrs Darcy, I'm afraid Carlton House was not your natural habitat, you talked easily enough but I suppose you were constantly on your guard. I can imagine, for even I am often on my guard there though it's my home. I'm not insensitive to the Pemberley atmosphere. Or maybe it's just being among honest people who don't want anything from me. But please tell me about Mrs Brewer, I have a feeling I really want to meet her, and see her art and try her pie.'

So they told him about the organic shapes made of iron decorating her house and garden, and of the delicious pie she made with home-grown fruits.

'You say she grows peaches, here in the north? Can that be done?'

Frankly, they didn't know a thing about growing anything, the gardeners did that, and Fitzwilliam and Frederick might know but they seemed to have disappeared. Maybe they were playing billiards, to give their spouses the opportunity to chat with the Prince of Wales without provoking their own baser feelings.

'She had enough to preserve them, so I guess she knows how to grow rather well.'

'And she makes pies. I suppose I shall have to send her a bergamot then, I'm going to have mine uprooted to improve on my conservatory, but it would be a waste to have those trees burned or sold to some craftsman for the price of the wood.'

'Not those beautiful trees, Your Highness! Your conservatory was so lovely, why destroy the trees?' Elizabeth exclaimed inadvertently, that conservatory was the only truly sympathetic part of Carlton House that she had seen while visiting.

Fortunately Fitzwilliam was not there to see Prince George all attentiveness and charm, as he fixed Elizabeth with his eyes and shrugged helplessly, 'My friends and advisors all say my conservatory is hopelessly out of date, they tell me Gothic style is the fashion these days, and if I want to be anyone I need to embrace it. But I do feel sorry for those trees, especially my bergamots, they're so rare and give such a lovely fragrant blossom and such tasty fruit. You know, Mrs Darcy, I will reconsider my plans to just uproot them. Maybe I can save them after all. But if Mrs Brewer wants one she shall have it, and so shall both of you. Do you have a conservatory on your husband's estate, Mrs Manners?'

'You know, Your Highness, I have no idea. I have never yet seen Frederick's estate. We met in London, you see, and travelled straight to Pemberley from there.'

'You married a man without seeing his estate? You must have liked his town house very much!'

Anne didn't even twitch, she did not marry Frederick for his possessions, she had grown up in abundance and had never had to face a lack of worldly benefits, in fact she was heir to a magnificent estate herself.

'I have to confess I never saw that either, Your Highness. Do you think I married in haste?'

That last was said with humour even a total stranger should recognise.

But instead of the laugh it should have, it brought a pensive, almost wistful reply.

'I hope not, Mrs Manners. I've seen Mrs Darcy here eye her handsome husband with infatuation each time their paths cross, and she really has to restrain herself not to touch him whenever he is near. Of course the depth of his love speaks from his eyes and everything he says and does. Mr and Mrs Fielding seem two pairs of hands run by a single mind. But I would have sworn you'd married Mr Manners for convenience, you like him, and he likes you, a lot, and there is a lot of humour and affection between you, but dare I say you do not seem to be head over heels in love? Or am I offending you, suggesting that you might have investigated more thoroughly before committing to someone you aren't actually in love with?'

He was deadly serious, but Anne wasn't shocked at all, or she didn't show it. As Frederick had started to show more and more of his feelings, so Anne had learned to control hers perfectly.

'Your worry does you credit, Your Highness, and I am not offended by it. But I assure you I have not made a rash decision becoming Mrs Manners. I am very fond of Frederick and he has great affection for me, and we have a perfect agreement between us. In black and white, if you were still worrying. Indeed his estate and house in town play no role in that agreement, as you may know I am heiress myself to an estate of Pemberley's size, though I admit the house and the park are not as beautiful as Darcy and Elizabeth's. Money and status were of no moment in my decision to accept Mr Manners' offer, and I do not fear to tell you what was: freedom. I was a captive in my mother's house for a decade, ten years of inability to do anything but watch the days crawl by, Your Highness. Once I recovered I could have waited to fall in love, but I knew I'd become stuck inside a similar life, in a similar house, bearing heirs and idling away time, imprisoned between the walls of my new house and those of propriety. Frederick will show me the world, he will introduce me to the beau monde and we will go to parties and the theatre, listen to music, travel, and yes, he enjoys watching me ride astride and learn to shoot and fish for trout and ramble for hours with Elizabeth. He even lets me drink brandy and play billiards, if I so wish. But I think I prefer sewing.'

Elizabeth wondered whether this was a wise admission to make to a clever man like the prince, but she could hear Anne's heart was in it, and it did make a profound impression. Prince George's face softened totally, and he bowed his head to Anne and offered, 'My apologies, Mrs Manners. I know you weren't offended, but that was over the brashness of my question. I beg you to forgive me for thinking too little of your husband, I've been prejudiced because of his reputation of sometimes enjoying himself too much. With myself suffering under a similar prejudice from the good people of England I should know better. Of course I don't want to see you bound by convention, I want to see you live life to the full. And if you have chosen Mr Manners as your partner to enjoy yourself with, I think you couldn't have chosen any better, he is certainly kind and very generous, and he knows more about society and entertainment than anyone else.'

But he would keep speculating whether Frederick was truly a philanderer, and whether that meant Anne was available for a few nights of loving. Prince George would be watching Frederick as well as Anne, which meant they had to be very, very careful indeed.

Nick and Simon were spending some time in the servants' quarters, playing cards in Hugo's rooms with the stable master and the only stable boy who was not at home with his wife, not that Bruce wasn't way too young to get settled. He probably was a bit young to be doing what the four men were doing right now, drinking their share of ale whilst playing a game most young boys in the country hopefully didn't even know. Not that Bruce was a real country boy, he had been sent to Pemberley by way of punishment, he was actually from London and had served in Mr Darcy's town house stables, where he had tormented Bob.

Hugo's stiff discipline had taught the boy a lot, and since the stable master's return from London he had rewarded the boy's steady improvement and perfect behaviour towards the former victim of his cruelty by including him in his pastimes with his two new London partners in crime. For Hugo was still convinced that both Nick and Simon liked to break hearts left and right when opportunity presented itself. Hugo had a lot of respect for the two Londoners, even though they were personal servants. Nick had found out that by country stable staff, personal servants were considered slightly less than manly, whereas in town they generally commanded a pretty high status among the house servants.

Well, it didn't matter to Nick, his physical appearance and role as bodyguard assured that no-one would even think of doubting his masculinity, not aloud anyway. And Simon's reputation as philanderer was unshakeable, most of the maids were in love with him and he kept them that way by ignoring their attentions to their face but discussing them with Hugo and Bruce during these get-togethers. Gossip took care of the rest.

'It's your turn, Bruce,' Hugo said, then turned towards Nick, 'the maids say your mistress caught the Prince of Wales' eye well and good.'

Nick had expected comments much earlier, he kind of worried no-one had talked, somehow that gave what was happening extra meaning.

'Can you imagine they didn't dare talk about it in your presence? Those girls can be so fanciful sometimes, said you're very protective of your lady and might do something foolish. Fat chance. Weren't hired to protect your lady's virtue after all, and nobody's ever accused our crown prince of being anything but charming to the ladies.'

They all laughed, and Nick was kind of touched those maids were concerned for him. Of course he really wasn't that upset by Prince George's infatuation with Anne, the prince was old and fat and had a notorious appetite for pretty ladies, Anne would be a total fool to fall for him, which she wasn't.

'I heard, but I'm not worried. My mistress is in no danger of getting hurt or abducted, and sensible enough to prefer a rich and respected husband to a powerful lover. You've seen him, Simon, what do you think?'

'I only know he indeed likes sweets. And he does seem to admire Mrs Manners. My master has asked me to attend to the prince's care from tonight on, so I guess I'll know more pretty soon.'

They played a few more rounds, house staff against stable staff, despite Bruce's rough looks he was a better player than Nick had expected, so far there was no real winner this evening.

Then the bell rang, the pattern Frederick and Mr Darcy had agreed upon to summon Mr Manners' personal staff to whichever room their master rang from. Of course that was to give the impression that they were really just staff, Frederick had been very clear about it all being for show. The summons came from the billiards room, which they hadn't expected tonight since there was company. They often joined Frederick and Mr Darcy in a game of billiards, but those two couldn't let the Prince of Wales know they played billiards with men who were supposed to be just servants.

Both Nick and Simon jumped up, curious, but also keeping up appearances, making sure to sound regretful as they took their leave from their companions.

'Can't leave the master waiting. See you tomorrow at breakfast.'

The other two nodded, their work was done for the day, unless some visitor arrived late or an emergency happened.

Taking the fastest route to the billiards room they found Frederick and Mr Darcy there, Frederick excusing himself profusely, as he always did to his lover after having summoned him. Simon touched his arm very shortly to settle him, Nick understood perfectly, Simon didn't feel insulted to be summoned like that, he had been a servant all his life, like Nick, he was used to it. Besides, they had all agreed to play roles like this, no need for apologies. That was merely rather embarrassing to Mr Darcy, though he didn't bat an eye.

'Never mind, Frederick, we're all just keeping up appearances. What can we do for you?'

The cheeky fellow, teasing Frederick where it hurt. Of course the poor man gave up, who could withstand Simon if he really tried to get his way?

Well, maybe Mr Darcy. He did his share of the acting now and practically begged, 'Will you play a few games with us to keep our minds off our ladies being beset by the Prince of Wales? Manners forced me to leave the room, but I have a mind to run right back.'

He would be, though if rumour were true he had less reason to be worried than Nick: Prince George apparently adored Anne even more than he admired Mrs Darcy. She was of a more suitable age as well, the prince was reputed to like his women well-seasoned, which neither was, but Anne at least was comfortably over half the prince's age and Mrs Darcy hardly at all. Nick didn't hesitate to say something soothing to the man he had feared so much when they'd first come into contact.

'I've seen those two ladies stand up to your aunt, Mr Darcy, I guess they do not need protection from elderly people of rank with an attitude.'

That was rude, of course, and largely undeserved by Prince George, but somehow rudeness and unfairness made an impact on a fastidious man like Mr Darcy. It might snap him out of his state of self-pity. Anne was right, this was hard on Mrs Darcy, and dangerous to their marriage, and the servants' quarters were buzzing with a rumour that Mrs Darcy was with child. She didn't need an unstable, jealous husband whether that was true or not, but especially if it was true.

And it did work, if Mr Darcy felt shocked he hid it well, for he laughed heartily and said, 'See, I knew I could count on you, Fowler. If you're not worried, I'll not be worried, we're in the same boat after all.'

'Indeed, sir, and according to rumour, my side is deeper in the water than yours. But I'm not worried the seams won't hold, and neither should you be.'

'I've heard that same rumour, it's as if my staff has suddenly taken to gossiping. Maybe I should have a chat with Mr Eliot, request him to spend some thoughts on respecting others in his sermon coming Sunday. Do you think Prince George will mind, if he's still with us by that time?'

Despite undoubtedly being a sinner, Prince George would probably appreciate it if people minded their own business a little more, in town as well as in a tiny parish.

'I am very certain he will totally concur, Mr Darcy. I've heard some rumours that were entirely inappropriate, even if they were true.'

And he hoped Mr Darcy knew that Nick was as close-mouthed as Simon was, unless the latter had drunk spirits.


	141. Chapter 141

Chapter 151

If Simon had any expectation of the prince's reception of an unknown valet it would have been relief coloured with a certain suspicion. Relief to be helped attain the level of comfort he was used to, to be clean again, to have his hair combed out without losing too many strands, to have stiff muscles from his long and wet ride massaged back into pliancy. All in a slightly uncomfortable silence, which even Simon would not dare to break.

But nothing was less true. When he knocked on the prince's door a voice sounded from inside, 'Please enter, my saviour!'

The voice was coloured with fatigue but still there was humour in it. Simon entered, walked straight towards the dark shape sitting on the side of the opulent bed, and bowed.

'Simon, so glad to see you, no need to bow, I'm the supplicant here. Please help me, I struggled into dry clothes this afternoon but I didn't do it right and as a result I've been feeling grubby and badly dressed ever since. My cheeks itch, my thighs and back hurt, I want to join the ride tomorrow but I'm afraid to have to forgo because I cannot stand straight. And yet I've had the best day in months.'

He did look very worn out, and a bit lonely, and Simon decided to be his usual self, competent but lacking proper deference.

'What would you like first? A shave, to get to know me a little? Then a bath? We can have one set up in the room right through that door. I can have you as clean as a baby in half an hour, and spend some time working the knots out of your muscles.'

As Simon described his plans, the face of the man before him lighted up. Deciding there and then to stop thinking of him as the crown prince, Simon felt himself soften towards the chubby fellow, he was rather endearing, actually. Instead of asking Prince George to move to the chair in front of the mirror beside the washstand, Simon held out his hand and once it had been taken, helped its owner towards it. Then he took a towel and a bar of lavender soap from the wardrobe, and after wetting the prince's cheeks and his own hands he worked the fragrant soap into a thick foam and massaged that gently over the days-old stubble. With satisfaction Simon noticed the prince giving himself up to what came next, the razor drawing away foam and stubble alike, Prince George showing not the slightest reluctance to let this strange valet at his throat with a sharp implement.

Ten minutes saw the shaving completed, Simon deciding to rub some soothing ointment into the prince's skin, the bath would not be ready yet. By now, Prince George was almost asleep on the chair, he really enjoyed the care he was given, making it very rewarding for Simon to spoil him. He was not a very manly-looking fellow compared to the gentlemen of Simon's acquaintance, but thinking of Grenfell Simon realised that a pleasant character was most important of all.

Guessing the bath would be ready by now, Simon helped his charge undress, actually Prince George was much better behaved than either Mr Darcy or Frederick, or even Eric: the prince allowed Simon to do as pleased him, not trying to do certain things himself or trying to assist. The prince's valet had him well schooled!

The hunting gear the prince was wearing was still clean enough, and Simon put it away neatly, together with his boots and hat. The wet travelling clothes had been taken from the room to be laundered and dried, and a dressing gown had been left by the maid on duty. Before slipping it on him Simon took a good look at his charge's naked shape, and while it was obvious that the papers had been exaggerating Prince George's weight, it also proved he liked sweets and spirits a little bit too much. He wasn't nearly as muscled as Frederick or Nick, though of course they had a much more robust build as well. The prince might have felt grubby, he wasn't really, Prince George was likely a fastidious man, which Simon appreciated since he guessed the man was used to being helped with everything and Simon would be expected to do that for him the coming days.

Once in the room with the steaming bath Simon took the dressing gown and put it away for the moment, then he helped the prince into the bath. That wasn't altogether easy, since apparently the poor man was suffering quite a bit from sore muscles, which impressed Simon with his charge's hardiness for he hadn't noticed before. Apparently the Prince of Wales could bear some discomfort, or maybe it was the company.

'You are very gentle, Simon, I appreciate that. Will you tell me a little about yourself?'

And why not? Just refrain from mentioning that one thing.

'I used to be Mr Darcy's valet for ten years, Your Highness. My new master begged him to let me go, and begged me to take service with him. Said he needed my skills more than Mr Darcy.'

'And do you agree?'

'Mr Darcy never cared much for public occasions, and now his sister has married Mr Fielding I suppose he and Mrs Darcy will rarely go out anymore. Mr Manners is the heart of the beau monde, with the reporters watching I do agree he needs a valet more than Mr Darcy.'

'You are a true diplomat, Simon. And how do you like your new master getting married?'

'He could not have found a kinder and smarter lady anywhere, Your Highness.'

'Do you think your master values those traits above Mrs Manners' beauty?'

Such an old fox! Fishing for the level of affection between Frederick and Anne. Fortunately there was work to be done for Simon, his charge now being completely submerged in the hot water, only his head still dry. First he wet the thinning hair, then applied just the right amount of soap to totally clean hair without making it feel ropey or dry and worked it into the prince's hair. When the prince was almost asleep with the gentle massaging of his head, Simon rinsed his hair carefully, making sure the soapy water did not touch the prince's eyes or mouth.

'I am very certain Mr Manners appreciates every single one of Mrs Manners' qualities, Your Highness. She is very beautiful indeed, and he certainly knows it and appreciates it. But he loves her for her keen mind and kindness of heart.'

A very political answer, but of course it was nothing less than the truth. By now the prince's hair was clean and it was time to soap the rest of his ample body, not forgetting all the intimate places that might have suffered from a long wet ride. Like most gentlemen, Prince George had little body modesty towards a personal servant, he offered every single one of them for a thorough soaping and rinsing and he obviously relished the massage Simon didn't hesitate to apply to the nicely warmed thigh and calf muscles of his highborn charge. Simon had as little reluctance to touch a man as those gentlemen had to be touched, needed to be touched to be taken care of properly, even Mr Darcy, even when the latter already must have known about his valet's preference for him. The intimacy just didn't have such a meaning.

The prince sighed.

'Then he must deserve her, for I still have a hard time looking past that beauty. I know she is smart to the point of brilliance, I know she is actively drawing my attention towards her to tempt me away from Mrs Darcy, with her husband's permission and without the slightest actual interest in my person. Such a heart-breaking prospect, the most beautiful angel in the world choosing a marriage of convenience instead of being worshipped as she ought to be.'

Simon, of course, could not tell the Prince of Wales he was overreacting, nor that Anne was worshipped beyond what any girl might expect. And neither dared he hint to the prince that what he had to offer was even less. For why would a woman with a fortune of her own and the prospect of becoming the lady of Rosings choose to be a mistress to an older man when she could be the wife of a respectable gentleman? But it wouldn't do to even hint at being so rude as to point that out to the second-most-powerful man in the kingdom.

'Gossip does as little credit to Mr Manners as it does to you, Your Highness. I do indeed think he deserves her.'

'And who knows better than an intelligent servant? Most men hide from the world, but not from their closest attendants. Which is why I chose not to bring Enrique, I didn't want him around when I hoped to become part of the family. Maybe I somehow did expect my feelings to be stirred by Mr Fielding's music and I didn't ant him to see that. Whichever, Enrique loathes travelling and he cannot ride. I suppose you don't either, since Manners told me you're a city boy?'

He was so frank towards a servant he didn't know at all, Simon didn't wonder he feared a reporter being hidden among his staff. Taking a Spanish valet to prevent his closest servant from being a spy in his household made excellent sense, especially since Prince George was reputed to have a love of wine, which made a person talkative, and apparently his valet was the one he chose to take into his confidence. Well, Simon had always been close-mouthed and being with Frederick wouldn't change that. If he heard anything truly private he'd keep it to himself, as he always had before.

'I am indeed a city boy and up until about a month ago I had never even sat on a horse. But Mr Manners has allowed both myself and Mrs Manners' bodyguard to learn to ride. I suspect he doesn't want to be stuck to using a carriage or doing without his attendant when he feels like going somewhere.'

They had decided not to tell the prince about Vienna if they could help it, and if he found out anyway he would not hold it against Simon that a valet didn't talk about his master's plans for the future.

'You're learning to ride? Good for you, and very smart of Manners! I may follow his example and have Enrique learn to ride, though he'll hate it. Too bad you won't be able to join us when we ride out tomorrow, I've heard Mr Darcy has a beautiful estate, and after spending ten summers here you might want to see a bit more of it before you move on to your new master's home.'

Well, if Prince George didn't mind, Simon would indeed like to join their outing. Maybe he could get him to request Simon's presence.

'Fortunately, riding demands a lot of practice, and also outside the riding paddock. I may yet see the park from the back of a horse. My master usually lets Mrs Manners' guard join his charge, he may allow me to come as well.'

'He has Mrs Manners under guard? Isn't that a bit excessive?'

It was, without their usual excuse of the trip to the continent.

'Her mother once tried to kidnap her back to her estate. Mrs Manners feels safer with an attendant.'

'Is Mrs Manners' mother truly that bad? She did tell me about being stuck at home for a decade, but wasn't that due to her mother's ignorance rather than malice?'

'Though I have a reputation for discretion to keep up, Your Highness, I will tell you this much: anyone not as convinced of her own superiority would have questioned her daughter's treatment much earlier. Lady Catherine de Bourgh is Mr Darcy's aunt, I've often visited her estate with him, and she is indeed a tyrant. Her staff had suspicions of what caused Miss de Bourgh's illness but they didn't dare tell their mistress. And when Miss de Bourgh escaped further harm by going to London her mother really did try to have her abducted by a low-life. Miss de Bourgh's ordeal was indeed due to ignorance, but it was wilful ignorance.'

That came out a little too firmly for an obedient servant. It was just a bit of a sensitive subject for all of them, but that didn't mean he should give away the fact that Anne was more like a friend to him than his mistress. Still, it did get the prince's attention away from her body guard. For a few moments.

After the hot bath and the massage Prince George was surprisingly nimble getting out of the tub, and Simon supposed he'd expect his attendant to dry him completely, which neither Mr Darcy nor Frederick ever did. Still, Simon knew how to do that gently but thoroughly and made sure to leave no damp spots anywhere, then wrapped his charge in the dressing gown he'd hung before the hearth to warm just a little.

'Thank you very much, Simon, I feel like a different man. My heart moved by Mr Fielding, my mind cleansed and piqued by Mrs Manners and Mrs Darcy, and my body revitalised by your kind care. I suspect I shall sleep like a newborn baby, and I'm looking forward to talking with you a little more tomorrow. I'm glad I braved the weather to come here, and I'm very glad I came by myself, it's so good to meet people who are just themselves. Good night, Simon, sleep well!'

He did not seem to have registered Simon's lack of deference towards his betters just now, good. They all had to be much more careful towards this man, he was very perceptive and so ingratiating one wanted to tell him everything. Pleasant company, but mostly very dangerous.

As they gathered near the stables, Darcy was of two minds whether to look forward to their ride or to dread it. He had left Elizabeth to Prince George easily enough yesterday, he did trust her and as long as he didn't have to see them together he found he didn't worry at all. In fact, the only thing he still worried about was himself, what if he had one of those episodes again? Elizabeth had promised him that if he did, she'd indulge herself in cuddling him instead of trying to hush things up and sort them out in private as she had done that time with Mr Hurst, and she'd do it, too. He'd make an utter fool of himself, and upset his beloved. That had to be avoided at all cost. But he generally felt out of sorts for some time already before they happened, there probably was a chance to make himself scarce in time to save his dignity even if he had another one. And wouldn't it be fun to show his beautiful grounds to the Prince of Wales?

Georgiana and Fielding had decided not to come along, they wanted to practise but they also feared the ride would be too fast for their comfort, which Darcy thought was not at all unlikely. Prince George wanted to see Elizabeth riding a hunter, and he would probably expect her to take a few jumps as well as gallop. She looked so lovely in her riding skirts, and she had given Darcy such a magnificent reminder that morning of the love and the desire she felt for him. And she'd told him about Prince George's observation yesterday, how he had noticed the love between them, but also the absence of true passion between Manners and Anne. Well, theirs wouldn't be the first marriage built on much more sensible foundations, and as they had all observed before, passionate love wasn't always a guarantee for a happy union. Sometimes, excellent sense and similar habits were good enough.

Simon and Fowler would be joining them as well, Fowler as Anne's guard, and Simon on the prince's express invitation. This time, Prince George had been politeness itself and had asked Darcy before even discussing the matter with Manners. Good, he liked to be taken seriously, even though the prince's visit was meant to be informal. Darcy foresaw little danger from Simon and Nick's behaviour towards their respective lovers, both men had total control of their feelings, but though Anne was similarly sensible, Manners had sometimes unwisely shown his preference for Simon. He could not afford such sensibility today, but generally Manners was a much better actor with an audience. And of course they'd all keep an eye on him.

It was a merry set of people mounting their horses and setting off towards Anne's favourite little village, the one they had passed on their way over from London. It was quite a ride, but the weather was surprisingly fine and everyone was eager to go out. Darcy was almost flattered to find his beloved by his side from the start, he had taken the lead and was childishly happy to have her join him, in her lovely short coat and her flowing riding skirts with woollen underpants hidden beneath the sturdy fabric, with her favourite winter boots still very useful since it was dry but not exactly warm. This was her newest pair, she usually wore the first pair he'd given her to any activity where they might get soiled, and riding after weeks of rain she was certain to get her boots dirty, but with Prince George in their party of course she had chosen to risk the good ones. Even Elizabeth had her vanities, slight though they were.

The prince's horse was even more beautiful in bright daylight than he had been in the driving rain, a road horse, not a hunter, but a beautiful creature nonetheless. He reminded Darcy of Cavort, except that he was a rare golden colour with white mane and tail, but his build was as solid, and he carried himself with such dignity that Darcy really thought he had to be a stallion, not a gelding. Knowing that the prince didn't have a hunter available both Darcy and Manners had decided to use their own road horses, it wouldn't do to be better mounted than the heir to the throne after all. Somehow, bragging with carriage horses was acceptable, and Darcy really planned to invite Prince George for a nice fast ride behind his thoroughbreds, but outshining a prince with a hunter was unfair and unwise.

And thus the only one in their company riding a better horse than Prince George was Elizabeth, who had just the one horse, and one suitable only to a small, elegant lady. They made a stunning combination, and Darcy felt only pride to see her ride Barley astride, without even a twinge of doubt as to the propriety of her doing so.

And Prince George obviously agreed with him on that, though fortunately his attention was mostly glued to Anne's spectacular presence, sitting her grey mare astride, with blue riding skirts and a grey coat with a brindled grey fur collar. He rode beside her without even trying to hide his admiration, and Darcy's gaze was involuntarily drawn towards Fowler. He was at the very back of their little group, with Simon, the most appropriate place for a servant, even a guard. His expression was elated, this was not his first outing in the park but he so loved to ride, every time they went out it seemed his first time. He did not show any interest in Anne besides a professional one, he did keep an eye on her all the time but that was his assignment. He looked very competent and very content, his black Liquor almost as excited as himself, and yet always aware of his undisputed master. Fowler's casual competence in every physical activity was almost enough to make Darcy a little envious, but no more than that: Fowler had turned out a rather likeable fellow, but he would never have the chance to be more than a dependant and at the mercy of Anne and Frederick. He had such control of his feelings, he might be fuming with anger and despair right now and not show it.

Simon also showed elation at being allowed to join the group, apparently he had made quite an impression on Prince George with his attentions to the prince's personal comfort. Of course the Prince of Wales would never even think of allowing a servant to join a riding party of his own, but he had asked nicely whether Darcy objected to Simon's presence. And besides, though the prince did not know it, Simon and Fowler often rode along with them, if they were ever going to develop a good seat they would have to practise, and not just in the riding paddock.

After ten minutes at a walk along the bank of the river, Darcy split off the well-travelled path and took another one of those narrow tracks straight up the hill. His sense of direction and his knowledge of his own grounds made him reasonably certain it would lead them to another one of those magnificent views, with a nice smooth slope down into the next valley. It would be a superb chance to offer their horses a first opportunity for a nice gallop, they were all fresh and eager to stretch their legs.

Of course they all took the time to admire the view from the top, Prince George as ready to praise the beauty of the countryside as all the others, and then, with a warning from Darcy, they were off. Barley quickly took the lead, he loved going fast and so did Elizabeth. Darcy could have kept up with her easily, at least for the first half mile until his black started to tire, but he felt responsible for the rest and dropped back a little to watch how they were doing. Anne and Prince George were coming on nicely, their horses looking fabulous at a run, followed by Simon and Manners in a very orderly way. But Fowler's horse had taken the opportunity to break loose, and it seemed Fowler was not going to force the black streak of lightning to a slower pace. He was merely enjoying himself hugely, letting the fractious gelding have his head until he had caught up with Elizabeth and Barley. Instead of allowing Liquor to turn their encounter into a race, he then checked the horse's speed subtly but inexorably, until Elizabeth looked straight at him and called out something Darcy couldn't understand.

But the effect was immediate, within the blink of an eye both horses stretched again, their riders flattened against their necks, and a race ensued. At first it seemed Fowler would win, but then Barley shot away so fast that for a moment Darcy thought he was out of control, with the hedge bordering the road and the stream across the road approaching fast. Giving his own black his head he rushed to Elizabeth's side, to help her if her horse should refuse to stop or even go straight towards the stream.

And at first it truly looked like something was terribly wrong, Barley slowed only marginally, and was heading straight for the hedge. The fence was open right before them but Barley passed it in a flash, still going towards the hedge and sailing over it with at least a foot clearance. Guiding his own black towards the opening where the fence would soon keep some farmer's cows in, he was relieved to see Elizabeth sitting up in the saddle, slowing Barley to a walk within at most three horse lengths. Fowler had also jumped the hedge and had slowed his horse well before it reached the stream. The others, including himself, were reaching the road only now, their horses eager to rejoin their faster stable mates.

Heart still beating wildly, Darcy was rather upset to see Elizabeth riding on quite calmly, Fowler by her side, talking and laughing as if nothing had untoward had happened. Their horses were breathing a bit fast, but so was his own, and they strode happily enough, snorting contentedly, stretching their necks and touching noses shortly before continuing at a fast walk eagerly. Just as Darcy realised nothing untoward had happened, Elizabeth had planned to do that as soon as she had seen that hedge and Fowler coming on fast, a large golden horse appeared by his side and matched strides with the black.

'You are the most fortunate man in the world, Mr Darcy, I hope you realise that.'

The prince's voice was quite normal in volume, but very intense.

'I have never seen anything like it, such courage, such fire. I thought those horses were on the run, starting with the black, but I'm certain both your wife and Manners' younger brother knew exactly what they were doing.'

Darcy would be a fool if he admitted he'd been scared out of his wits, he had promised to trust Elizabeth and he would, at least towards any man who admired her. His body had already calmed down, and his voice sounded as sedate as he wanted it to.

'I guess the black was out of control for a split second, Fowler would never presume to overtake his betters like that. He is a natural, but Liquor does test his mettle every time we go out. It would have been kinder towards him if we had started out with a canter. But, you are right, he had him back under control rather quickly, and I suppose Elizabeth didn't mind proving Barley's superior speed at all. I agree with you that she never lost control, and that jump...'

'I seem to remember Manners' valet telling me they have been riding for a mere month. You mean to tell me that fellow on the black horse, Liquor, really?, has only been riding for four weeks? Look at him, he is thrilled! He should be quivering in his saddle, praising his Lord to have kept his seat!'

'Fowler has taken to riding like no-one I've seen before.'

In fact, Darcy himself had taken slightly longer to find his seat, and he had been put on the back of a horse as soon as he could walk.

'You betray yourself, Mr Darcy. This servant is talking to your missus as if he is indeed Manners' brother, or rather his cousin, in possession of his own estate, and you do not seem to mind at all. But you do mind his being a talented rider, just a little bit.'

'You have caught me out, Your Highness. I do envy anyone who sits a horse like that after a mere four weeks. It took me years to learn to ride like that.'

'I took me more, and I would never risk my neck that way, not anymore at least. If I were Mrs Manners I'd feel very safe with a guard like this one. I am convinced a good horseman cannot be a bad person, a horse knows instantly. And there must be a reason for Manners to choose his wife a guard who looks so much like him. He is a very deep and intriguing man, I'm glad to have the chance to get to know him. Thank you so much for your hospitality, Mr Darcy, and for letting me be one of your family for few a days.

You go see your wife, she is trying to catch your attention.'

And Elizabeth was, probably because of the crossroads approaching ahead. Darcy was worried, Prince George saw so much, despite everyone being on their guard he was finding out more and more about how things were in their family, as he so aptly called it.

A few weeks ago, Nick would have been afraid of being in for it after letting Liquor draw so much attention to him. He did lose control for a few moments, when Mr Darcy suddenly rushed down that slope full speed without warning. Or maybe he did give a warning but he and Simon never heard it, keeping a little distance from the genteel folk.

He had Liquor back under control soon enough, but then Mrs Darcy challenged him to a race, and he was not likely to refuse such a thrill. That slender brown horse of hers was incredibly fast, there had been no way to keep up, but when she jumped the hedge Nick knew he wanted that, too, so he took the chance and did. Once on the road they had slowed to a walk, and she had not stopped to wait for the others, so he'd joined her.

'Did I just see you jump that hedge, too, Nick?' she asked, and he affirmed.

'I did, ma'am, it looked easy, the way you jumped it.'

'And was it, after a month of riding lessons?'

'I didn't have any trouble getting Liquor to take it, nor did I come close to falling off. So I guess it was, ma'am.'

'You must be the best natural horseman I've ever met, weren't you afraid at all?'

'Merely to have been out of bounds, Mrs Darcy. I'm just a guard, I'm not supposed to brag with my skills. Which I wasn't trying to do, I just like riding so very much. I did lose control of Liquor when you all suddenly chased down that hill.'

'You didn't hear Fitzwilliam's warning? Maybe we should incorporate a hand signal for those in the rear. I'm glad you are all right, and I'll make sure Fitzwilliam doesn't fault you for what was in fact my doing, I felt like racing and your Liquor seemed the most likely candidate to join Barley in a fast run.'

'And yet he couldn't keep up, ma'am, Barley is really very fast, though he isn't all that large.'

'His father and grandfather have a lot of Arabian blood in them, you know, those desert horses. They are supposed to be really fast. Except I guess that in the desert it is more difficult to run into things, like road signs, and fences, and rivers.'

'I have indeed heard they have very few rivers in the desert, ma'am.'

She laughed heartily, and offered, 'I'm glad you could join us, Nick, though Prince George is obviously wondering what Mrs Manners needs guarding from. Be prepared to have him address you, you may be certain he will.'

Nick did not expect that but she seemed so certain, and she knew Prince George best of any of them.

'I thank you for the warning, ma'am. I suppose I'd better return to Simon's side, though it's too late to keep a low profile.'

She nodded to give him permission, then looked for her husband, who was talking with the prince.

Nick held his horse for a few moments, to let the others pass, then joined Simon, who was riding by himself, surprisingly calm after such a sudden gallop.

'You certainly managed to keep a low profile, what got into you?'

Mrs Darcy had brought that message a good deal more kindly, though of course she had challenged him to do it in the first place.

'My horse ran wild, and when I had him back under control Mrs Darcy wanted to race the horses so I did. But it was foolish, I admit, now Prince George has noticed me. But in my defence, I didn't hear a warning we were going to gallop down that hill and Liquor is quite a fractious horse, he got away from me for a second.'

'Never mind, Nick, I was only teasing you, I wish I could ride like you. Now mind your tongue for we are about to have some company, and he can get a stone to spill its life's story, I swear.'

And Simon immediately inclined his handsome head to the prince, who had reined in his horse to ride with them. Ahead, Anne and Mrs Darcy were riding with their husbands, both couples looking a true ideal of marital happiness.

Nick followed suit, taking a good but covert look at Prince George. He sat his beautiful horse well, though he was certainly a little portly. His coat was more practical than magnificent, his face round like a full moon, and his hair seemed to be thinning under his tall hat. There was no way that this man could be a competitor for Anne's affections, Nick would respect him as a superior but he would not fear his influence on the woman he loved.

'My good man,' he addressed Nick, 'you are truly a superb rider! I have heard you only learned a month ago, I am stunned! The way you took that fence! Were you afraid at all? By the way, might I ask your name?'

Well, now he had to say something.

'My name is Nick Fowler, Your Highness, I am Mrs Manners' guard. I thank you for your kind compliments, I just love riding so much, the speed, being one with the horse, the excitement, I'm never afraid when riding my horse.'

'Liquor, I've heard you call him, an intriguing name.'

'Liquor is his short name, Your Highness, I actually named him Liquorice, because he is black.'

'Ah, that explains a lot. So you are never afraid on a horse. And you are a guard, I guess that means you are a brave man in general. Tell me, Nick, is there anything you do fear?'

Well, that was an easy one with the Prince of Wales riding next to him.

'Yes, Your Highness, I have a tremendous fear of powerful men. I suppose that may sound singular to you.'

'Surprisingly little, my friend, remember, however influential a man, there is always someone who can harm him. I for instance have long feared my father, who is little forgiving of mistakes, especially in his eldest son. I suppose you have always worked in a dependent position.'

'Yes, Your Highness, ever since I was fifteen years of age.'

'That is rather young, were you always a guard?'

'Mostly, though I have also served as chaperone for two young ladies. They preferred entertainment that would have caused the usual elderly lady to blanch or even faint, and still their father chose to indulge them in their taste. My qualities as a guard were sometimes very useful.'

'I can see that he trusted you with their respectability as well as their lives.'

'They were like sisters to me, I would have given my life to guard them from harm.'

'And would you give your life for Mrs Manners, Nick?'

Damn the man, he was smart. Nick couldn't hide that he would, without a moment's hesitation.

'I would, Your Highness.'

'She is lucky to have such a loyal man. I understand why Mr Manners entrusts his wife to you. But she can hardly be like a sister to you.'

'That would be highly presumptuous, Your Highness, she is no feckless girl but a woman grown.'

'A woman grown, that she certainly is. And yet she is still so young, and so fresh and beautiful. I cannot help it, Nick, when I see such a beautiful, admirable woman I fall in love instantly, each and every time. It has gained me some unforgettable times but it has cost me at least as much. If you were to ask me what I fear most it would be reporters. They have their opinion of me all thought out and they see confirmation in anything. I would so love to be faithful to one woman, but somehow another always crosses my path who is even more special. How do men like Darcy do it? Give all their love to one woman, unconditionally? I've never understood. Do you? Nick? Simon?'

'I have certainly never been able to give my love to a single woman, Your Highness,' Simon said, laughing. 'I've never met one who could tempt me to stay true to her. But I'm sure if I met the right person I would be faithful until the day I died.'

That last was said with more than a little irony, and Nick could see that Prince George appreciated Simon's sense of humour very much, though of course he did no know where Simon's self-critique originated. Nick found himself answering honestly, though carefully, somehow he felt a case had to be made for the faithful.

'I used to be a real ladies' man, I never intended to fall in love and worship a single woman to the exclusion of everything else. But it happened when I least expected it, and I haven't so much as looked at another woman since. And I used to have a different one every day.'

'Wasn't that difficult, living in a household?'

'Some of the staff disapproved, but my master knew and he sort of admired me for my prowess. His wife had strings of lady friends visiting to see me.'

'Really? Ladies, of your master's class? And you gave that up for a single woman? Did you marry her? Did you leave her in London? I would never have guessed you to be a family man.'

'Alas, she wouldn't marry me. For her I would have become a family man, if only she'd have me. But I see her now and again, just enough to keep me going. No family for me, not yet. I may still convince her to start one, though.'

'You sound so determined, Nick, in the face of such adversity. I almost feel ashamed of my wandering eye. Until I see another pretty face and I am lost in love once again.

Well, I wish you both a pleasant ride, I'm going to spend some more time on one or both of those charming ladies here, I'm really very much in love with both, but of course they're way too young for me. Mrs Darcy could have been my daughter! Still, I'll enjoy her delightful conversation and her husband's incredible self-control, any other man would have challenged me by now. At the very least to a game of billiards. I'll have to be more careful of your master, he is less envious of his lady's attention but ever so much more subtle, it wouldn't do at all to anger him, I'm sure his enemies never see him coming. But Mrs Manners, she is a true delight, not my daughter's age at all. Do you think she would have me, just for a night? He is not that good looking. Though he is probably a very good lover, that must be it. Athletic, which I certainly am not. Much gentler than he presents himself to the world outside, I bet.'

Nick looked at Simon and they couldn't help smiling. Simon just had to do it.

'You may be right, Your Highness, you may just be right. I'm guessing Mrs Manners is very satisfied with her man, but I'm just a simple valet, what would I know?'

'You're not fooling me, Simon, there is nothing simple about you. I guess I'll just enjoy the ladies' company then. See you both later.'


	142. Chapter 142

They managed to find the little village Anne wanted to see again and it was a delightful visit despite Prince George spending more time with Nick than Anne could herself. But she would have him in her arms that night, and she still saw him jumping that fence out of nowhere in front of her mind's eye. He was so strong and fearless, how could she not love him and want him? The strength in those arms and legs, and yet how tender he could be when he looked at her in a certain way and covered her in those little kisses.

'Your cousin has the most delightful little villages in his county, Mrs Manners. What is different here from other places? I'd swear all villages look alike and yet they don't, I've seen enough of them to know.'

Torn from her musings, Anne considered his question seriously, comparing this village to her mother's estate, and the villages they had passed on the road.

'I think Darcy takes better care of his people. The cottages are in better repair, and it's as if there are fewer of them, with larger fields and better-maintained vegetable plots. I think he doesn't allow families to split the farms, for their own well-being. I suppose tenants need taking care of.'

Prince George nodded, he probably had people running his estates for him, but he certainly saw a lot. If he could manage his weaknesses he would be a good king.

'A lot more than some seem to think, I've passed any number of sad hovels on my way here. Don't those landowners understand that sick or hungry tenants work less hard? And that timely maintenance saves money later?'

Thinking of her mother Anne quite naturally commented, 'And yet most people also need less guidance than we might think. My mother takes care that the cottages on her estate are in good repair, but she also interferes in people's lives. These cottages reflect their tenants, somehow. They make them personal, I like to see curious trees or works of art or those strange little buildings in the yards. See, like that one over there, what's that? A chicken coop?'

'Poor chickens! They'd be squashed flat. I guess they are a kind of conservatories, meant to grow crops that need more heat, like my oranges.'

'That's it! And look at that dog kennel over there, like a little church! My mother's steward would never let any of her tenants keep something like that in their yard, my mother doesn't like to see such fripperies. When I inherit Rosings I'll encourage my tenants to have a bit of fun with their house. And to just have a little fun, they work so hard, why shouldn't they?'

'You are so right, these villages look cared for, and not just by the landlord, by the tenants as well. Your cousin is a very caring man, though at first glance he doesn't look like one.'

'Both he and Frederick say it's because they were sent to school at a very young age, they learned to hide their feelings or be bullied.'

'They are so right! And yet they will most likely send their sons to school as well. We just cannot escape our upbringing.'

'But Darcy has also changed a lot, he used to be really disagreeable to people he thought beneath his notice. Among whom a certain young lady from Hertfordshire called Miss Elizabeth Bennet...'

'No! Mrs Darcy?'

'Yes. She disliked him violently when secretly he was madly in love with her. She broke his heart before she finally found out he was actually quite nice. And he improved himself until he became the man he is now. It's a very romantic story, you should ask her to tell it to you some time.'

'I think I will ask Darcy instead and get an even more interesting version. No wonder he loves her so, he suffered before he conquered! I reckoned with his looks and reputation he'd gotten the girl with a mere smouldering look.

Thank you for telling me this, Mrs Manners, it's very difficult to connect to someone who is set to dislike you, but talking of his love will hopefully make him more inclined to forgive me my weakness.'

Anne did wonder why Prince George would want to connect to Darcy at all cost, he could just be polite to his host and avoid him to make his visit less of an imposition, couldn't he? Or maybe he was like Frederick, maybe the prince also needed to be liked.

For another ten minutes they observed quaint details in the houses they passed and pointed them out to each other, until Darcy left the road once again and took them back into the hills, where they rode single file along a really narrow path through thick young growth. Then they crossed another field at a gallop, Nick keeping perfect control of Liquor this time.

They rest of the way they used the road, and Prince George returned to Anne's side, chatting with her until they reached the stables, where Nick and Simon took care of their own horses and the others left for the house immediately. Anne hoped to see Nick appear in her room for their usual private time whilst changing, she was afraid Nick would doubt her because she spent so much time on their guest.

The only one in their midst not altogether pleased with what the changing would bring was Simon, he was starting to fear the prince's clever questions and genial manners, designed to draw people out and talk to him freely. Simon was desperately afraid to tell Prince George something he could use to get to the truth of Anne and Frederick's marriage, the man was so curious and it was so difficult to refuse to give him what he wanted. Since Simon had initially been planning to get to know the Prince of Wales a lot better he couldn't help laughing at himself, at this moment it seemed as if things were going rather in the opposite direction, towards the prince getting to know Simon. He needed to see Frederick to ask whether he could tell the prince about Vienna if that clever fellow kept trying to find out why Mrs Manners had a body guard, it was the only logical explanation.

There really was no time for Simon to take care of his own horse, he had work to do, dressing two gentlemen was quite a task and he hoped to have a little time to spend with Frederick before they would have to part again. If he asked Nick to brush and feed his horse, his friend would do it, but Nick needed to spend time with Anne.

'You see to your charges, Simon, and we'll see to ours. I understand why you would stay behind to make your own way back to the house, but Fanny tells me you have two gentlemen to help dress, you need to go back to your duties. You, too, Nick, the coast is clear, you go back to the house and we'll take care of your horses.'

Who would have guessed that Bob would ever gain so much self-confidence!

'Thank you so much, Bob, I really don't have the time to brush my horse today, though I kind of like doing it in general.'

See, Nick had been thinking the same, though he didn't have to dress the heir to the throne as well as give his partner a little love. But Anne and Nick's bond would be under significant pressure, and while Simon knew Nick was not jealous of the time Anne spent on the prince, he would need some confirmation of her love after the ride just now.

'I'm very grateful, Bob, you see things so clearly, I don't like leaving my horse like this when she worked so hard to please me, but I really have to fly.'

'It's my pleasure as well as my job, you do yours and we'll meet for dinner.'

True, mealtimes were very pleasurable in the back of the house at Pemberley, much more informal than in the front and the food was nearly as good. They even got a daily share of ale, and with his London upbringing Simon much preferred ale to wine.

They thanked him again and left quickly, taking a back route to the house. Simon went upstairs quickly to find Frederick, who was indeed waiting for him and immediately took his slender lover in a firm embrace.

'I suppose you need to see to Prince George first? Can you give him a hint that Georgiana and Eric will be in the drawing-room all day, playing? That way we can take a little time for each other when you return. How are you coping, my love, being forced back into the servants' quarters?'

Simon kissed him, it was so good to be in his arms, Frederick getting married hadn't changed anything, if possible they had come even closer to each other but that was mainly because Mr Darcy had allowed them the entire second floor as their explorers' domain.

'I'm fine, Frederick, as long as we can be together part of the day I'm happy. Listen, I need your permission to tell Prince George about our plans to go to the continent, he is too clever and too observant, he will find out about all of us if he doesn't get a better explanation for Nick being here as Anne's guard. I'm certain he is not buying her mother wanting to take her back, or Anne being afraid of her without reason, Anne is way too smart and too brave for that. So then he'll try to find out what Nick is actually doing here and he will, he can distil information from everything anyone tells him and piece it together. He is too smart for me, Frederick, and I cannot refuse to talk to him. Please let me give him something to talk about.'

'Hush, Simon, don't panic. Calm down, please, you're all upset.'

Oh, how Frederick kissed him then and held him against his broad chest, Simon felt his heart skip a beat with sheer love. They had to protect their love, one devilishly smart man who didn't even care about them should not be able to come between them.

'I'm sorry I got you into this, Anne was right, I did underestimate the prince. I thought I was so clever but it's like he cannot help himself, he sees a mystery and he needs to solve it. It's not your responsibility altogether, Simon, I know you have the most contact with him and I know you are not in a situation where you can be the one to decide what to talk about, like Anne. Better give him something to think about then, tell him about the continent. He will hate it, I'm sure he is planning to have Eric over all winter. Now I mean it, my love, don't panic, if you stay calm you will find yourself in control again, you can do this, no-one has ever been able to pump you for information and neither will Prince George. If needed, you can just tell him you're not allowed to say anything, he doesn't want you spilling the beans on him either. A close mouth is a good trait in a personal attendant. Now one more kiss and then it's time for you to go, and when you return I'll be waiting for you and I'll spoil you for a change.'

That promise did make up for the ordeal Simon was expecting, when Frederick really let himself go he could be so incredibly sweet, so tender, that the very memory of the last time was enough to give Simon a little thrill of anticipation. It was hard for Frederick to show so much of himself but when he did there was no woman more caring or gentle than this immensely strong, rather blusterous-acting man.

The last kiss was a promise of what was to come, and Simon really had to compose himself before he made his way to Prince George's guest room.

'See you in half an hour, my love!'

Frederick blew him a kiss, and Simon returned it with a whole new courage. No-one had ever managed to get information from Simon that he hadn't wanted to spill, and even Prince George would not manage to do so. But first he returned to his own room and changed from his riding clothes to the neutral garb he usually wore these days, since Frederick loathed seeing him in a livery. Simon kind of liked liveries, they were very practical and he knew he looked stunning in them. But he understood why Frederick preferred he wore something less servile, and had designed a kind of alternative for both himself and Nick, similar in cut and practicality to a livery but much more neutral to make them blend in with the background. It wouldn't do to look like a gentleman when they weren't, but neither did Simon want to look like a stablehand or a gardener in loose, functional trousers and tunic. Somehow Nick managed to look menacing in his black pantaloons with a dark grey shirt and a livery-like jacket but in a neutral grey colour, and of course Simon broke hearts left and right in his similar garb, though several sizes smaller.

Changing didn't take longer than five minutes, and he found himself whistling as he took the large stairs to the first floor, where Prince George would be waiting for him to be dressed a little more fancily than he had managed by himself yesterday, just after his arrival.

'Please come in, Simon,' the prince's kind voice could be heard through the door.

He was still in his hunting garb, sitting by the window, staring out absent-mindedly.

'Have you ever wondered what it would be like to hear original music in one's mind, Simon?'

The words sounded positively wistful.

'Frankly, Your Highness, no. I've never been in the fortunate circumstances to hear much music, and as such it has never gotten a real hold on me.'

That had him thinking.

'I suppose I never thought of that, I've always had music around me, even in my earliest youth. But not everyone can afford an instrument, and music sheets, and lessons. And even in this household filled with music it is only for the genteel folk. That doesn't seem right, somehow.'

'Mr Fielding has never been for much formality, and in the very beginning he felt more comfortable with me than with the family. He used to live with a middle-class family and really had to get used to becoming a member of the Darcy household. We became friends, and Mr Darcy has always allowed me to visit Mr Fielding in his own rooms to listen to music. But I've never felt a strong wish to be able to play or compose. I suppose I'd rather sit a horse like Fowler, or draw like Mr and Mrs Gardiner's nursery maid, if I were granted a special talent.'

'You have your own special talent, Simon, you make people feel right at home. And you are beautiful, even if you're a man and should be called handsome. Yet somehow, handsome just doesn't do justice to your beauty. I would have liked to be merely handsome, but more than that I would have loved to be a proficient musician. Music moves me more than anything, sadly I didn't have the talent to become more than a mediocre performer so I decided to just enjoy the efforts of others. You're still close to Mr Fielding, aren't you? I've noticed you and Fowler do not stay in the servants' quarters, nor do Mr and Mrs Fielding and Mr and Mrs Manners stay with the family on the first floor. Instead you all reside together on the second floor, and even dine there together sometimes. As if Fowler really is Manners' cousin.'

Some maid had talked, no doubt one of the temporary ones who did the rounds and kept the hearths clean and the fires stoked. Better ask Mrs Reynolds which one was in charge of the prince's chamber and have her sent back home. There was no talking in Mr Darcy's household.

'Simon, you almost frighten me looking like that. Where did the affable valet go?'

'I've acted as Mr Darcy's housekeeper in London, Your Highness. There is no place for a talkative maid in Mr Darcy's household. You know all about finding your most intimate habits discussed in a certain section of the newspapers, how would you like it if she talked about you in the village, or to some aunt in a nearby town?'

'I'm sorry my good man, I admit it was a maid who told me those things. But in her defence I have to also say I did have to press her, she did not want to tell me but I am the heir to the throne, she couldn't very well refuse me. And it isn't as if it's sensitive information.'

'I concede she couldn't refuse you, but she might have told the housekeeper you forced her to divulge private information, no-one would reproach her for bending to your will. She'd merely get assigned to another task. I fear she was trying to make the most of this. Was it the ample one? Young, fresh-faced?'

'Yes, yes, that was her. Pauline, she said her name was. Kind of flirty, but I'm not as bad as that. I thought I'd see what she knew but I had a surprisingly hard time getting the information out of her. Of course in the end she told me what she knew, which wasn't all that much. I hoped you'd tell me more, but I suppose that's out of the question now. Again, I'm sorry, please don't be too hard on her, I'm good with girls, it's something to do with my face, they trust me somehow.'

'And they fear getting in trouble refusing you, you're going to be their king! Although you do have a way about you, I admit I've also told you more than I should, which has never happened to me before. But I have my master's permission to tell you about the second floor, I can even show you around when there is a moment to spare. I will have to tell Mrs Reynolds about the maid, but she knows me and likes me, I can get her to let the girl off with a warning.'

'You don't sound like a servant at all, Simon,' the prince now observed, but not in anger.

'I know, I lack proper respect. I've heard that a lot, but no-one can tie a cravat like me, or shape a shaking dog, so I guess I'm safe.'

'I think it's refreshing, I meet with servility all the time, even from your master's peers. And when they think I'm not looking they get even. I prefer honesty. I could pretend to be honourable and refuse your offer but I just cannot, I'm dying of curiosity. Please tell me as much as you can without breaking confidences, and I promise I won't bother the new maid assigned to my room for information or try to get the gardener or stable boy to talk.'

Simon bowed but to hide a smile. The prince was like a boy in his enthusiasm, though he certainly looked like a middle-aged man. Of course Simon did not just talk, he had taken the prince's coat and cravat already, and was now unbuttoning his shirt. Boots and breeches followed, no pantaloons for Prince George, sadly. Though the breeches didn't show with boots, and he was a bit too portly to make the best figure in pantaloons. Simon could have talked him into a pair, but there were none available in his size. And he shouldn't spoil Enrique's master for the Spanish valet, he probably had a rather lonely life in London.

'The thing we didn't plan to tell you because you will not like to hear it is, that my master is planning to take Mr and Mrs Fielding to Vienna at the end of summer. Mrs Manners will come, too, hence the body guard, we'll need him travelling across the continent with two ladies. Mr Manners can take care of himself but the rest, including myself, are more or less defenceless. We're all staying on the second floor because we are planning our trip and getting to know each other, we will depend on each other a lot. We are also learning how to ride a horse to be as mobile as possible. Shooting, too, some of the places we will visit are not as safe as good old England.'

Indeed Prince George was not pleased, he was not angry but merely shocked.

'Mr Fielding is not going to be in London this winter? I was counting on his company at least once a week! How will I get through a long, cold winter without his music? Is it a certain thing?'

'The intent is certain, Mr Clementi has some excellent connections for Mr Fielding to improve his playing as well as his composing, and he expects Mr Fielding to be able to play his compositions with an entire orchestra there, apparently the people in Vienna are all keen on music and musicians are very respected there. But of course things are not looking promising with the situation in France, it looks as if it may be spreading. We're planning, but if war breaks out we'll be in London after all, I guess.'

The prince nearly panicked.

'I can get him his orchestra in London, you know I can. How long do they plan to stay? A year, two years?'

'At least a year. They are very ambitious, Mr and Mrs Fielding.'

'And Manners has his own plans, no doubt. You are looking forward to your trip as well, I can see it. Why? Won't it be very inconvenient to travel across what, three, four countries? And dangerous? Why would you want to do that?'

Well, that was something Simon couldn't tell him, he didn't care for travelling at all but he wanted to be with Frederick as an equal instead of his servant, just to have had that experience.

'It seems a very exciting thing to do, and Vienna is supposed to be the most beautiful city in the world.'

'Well I'm sure it will be exciting! Damned dangerous I'd say. I wish I could be there, the Hofburg crammed full of Habsburgers, and Mr Fielding making them cry under accompaniment of an entire orchestra. Well I'm glad your master saw fit to destroy my dream of a magical winter in Carlton House before summer has even started. Better get used to the idea slowly than asking Mr Fielding to visit after six months of anticipation and finding him gone off in secret.'

Which was exactly what they had been planning. Poor Prince George, he was truly disappointed. But he collected himself quickly and observed ruefully, 'I'll just have to make the most of the time remaining. Fortunately your friend and his lady wife play all day long, I'll just sneak in and listen to their practice as well as their concerts.'

By now he was dressed to perfection, and Simon used this perfect moment to suggest, 'They will not mind, Your Highness, I think they understand. I suppose they will be in the drawing-room right now, and Mr and Mrs Darcy and Mr and Mrs Manners generally take their time dressing, if you take my meaning. I will dress my master in about half an hour, and I'll be with you tonight at ten.'

It was not a lie, he would help Frederick dress, of course after some frolicking, but nevertheless he spoke the absolute truth.

The light in Prince George's eyes proved he would indeed seek out Eric and Georgiana, which meant one warning was necessary: 'Your Highness, I only obtained leave to tell you about Vienna just before I came here, Mr and Mrs Fielding don't know you have been informed. If you want to address them on the subject, please take this into account.'

'You don't want to look like a gossip. I understand. I also understand why you asked permission to tell me, I was indeed amusing myself by posing questions and planning to push you to answer them for me. That was no way to thank you for your commitment to my comforts. I'm sorry, Simon, I will improve my behaviour towards you.'

'Thank you, Your Highness, you are very generous.'

'Actually I wasn't. You were. Thank you very much. See you tonight!'

And with that the prince left the room eagerly, leaving Simon to clear up the washing water and a few garments, after which he rushed upstairs to his beloved.

When they were finally by themselves in their bedroom, Elizabeth closed the door with her boot and took her beloved in a solid embrace. His hold on her was possibly even tighter, but when she looked up at him he showed no sign of that neediness that usually preceded one of those episodes.

'Are you holding up, my love?' she asked him.

He bent down and kissed her but with passion, not need, he was his handsome, proud self.

'Surprisingly well, actually. I suppose it helped that you chose to ride with me most of the way, and that you spent the rest of the time with Fowler and at breakneck speed. I feel not the least inclination to throw myself at your feet.'

'I'm glad to hear that. So you're not jealous of Nick?'

'Oh, I'm jealous of his talent doing anything physical. Riding, shooting, billiards, fighting, I bet he even excels at..'

'I'm sure he does,' Elizabeth interrupted him, on purpose. 'Anne doesn't have that smug look for nothing.'

'Elizabeth! I meant fishing! That's hardly a physical activity but you'll see he catches the most fish.'

He was truly shocked, good, he shouldn't think she'd turned into a sedate matron. A man like hers needed to be teased sometimes.

'Fortunately you are much handsomer and you have those thoroughbreds.'

'And the only woman I ever met who could tempt me to lose my heart. Though I suppose Nick is the only man who need not envy me for winning you, for Anne is as smart and almost as lively as you are.'

'She is much more beautiful than I am.'

'I beg to differ, to me you are the most beautiful woman in the world. And you have the fastest horse, does that count for a lady as well?'

'I'm not the one bragging here, you tell me.'

'I was a bit afraid at first, my love, seeing you speed off like that. It looked like Barley was on the run, like Liquor at first. And then you went straight for the hedge and the stream behind it.'

'But you know we have taken fences almost twice as high, and even ditches. Oh all right, I do understand. I worry about you, too. I suppose it's normal to worry about someone you love. Come, let's get out of these clothes, I want you.'

They undressed each other, exchanging kisses every few buttons, until they were both totally naked. Then they took their time admiring their loved one, and not just with their eyes. They stroked and kissed to their hearts' content, until Fitzwilliam lifted her bodily and gently laid her on the bed, kneeling beside it.

'It's still difficult for me to see any other man admire you, but I never doubt you.'

He stroked her leg upward, and then the other one, squeezing her solid muscles gently.

'I've always admired your physical fitness as well as your intelligence. Even with your petticoats several inches thick in mud. Though I did find it improper at first. I'm glad I'm not that stuck-up prig anymore, I suppose I cared more for my standing than for my happiness.'

The hand moved up slowly, over her trim hips to her stomach, now distinctly rounded. There it rested for a while, stroking her gently as she couldn't do with him because he was still ticklish. Elizabeth no longer believed she was merely getting fat, she was losing fat and gaining muscles everywhere else with the very specific exercises Sarah put her and Barley through every second morning. Well, and Fitzwilliam and Frederick. The things they were learning reminded her of those army horses, the stallions they had taught historical battle moves. The stable boy's father was as good a rider as Sarah.

Before Fitzwilliam reached her breasts, he got up and lay down beside her, and Elizabeth was pleased for she wanted to stroke him, too. They kissed, with more love than passion so far, though she could feel her beloved's excitement clearly enough. He'd always had an iron control over his urges, well, at least those. She supposed his humble spells had been an urge, too, and he had not been able to stop those.

She pulled him on top of her to feel him all around her, that was such a blissful feeling, his weight, and his warmth, his smell and his touch. His buttocks were rock hard from all the riding he did, there was little flesh on him but just enough. Most of his body was rougher and harder than hers, but there were some spots that felt like silk, softer even. Too bad most of those were also very ticklish. Fortunately she now had access to the softest parts of him, and they actually enjoyed her touch, so much so that an ardent moan escaped his usually so controlled lips.

'Oh, Elizabeth, my love, that feels so good!'

Just to stroke that smooth skin covering his sensitive male parts wasn't enough, she wanted to taste them and make him shudder as well as moan, so she turned underneath him and helped herself. Of course he couldn't resist the opportunity to reciprocate, and they spent quite some time pleasing themselves and each other. The moans and shudders to be heard and felt were not just his either.

Early afternoon a small party left the house to visit the little guard house near the gate, consisting of the three ladies of the household, Prince George, and surprisingly, Nick. Elizabeth wondered why, it was not as if Anne or either of the others needed a guard against the prince, who was really not as bad as the papers suggested. There was that proposition but both he and Mrs Fitzherbert had accepted her polite refusal easily enough.

Nick did understand the art of making himself difficult to notice, especially in the new livery that Simon had designed for the two of them. Though Frederick refused to call it a livery, Simon had admitted he liked wearing one and had used the general cut of a livery coat but with much more neutral colours, worn on a pair of black pantaloons. In this situation it made Nick's role perfectly clear, he was not a gentleman and obviously at work, but he was not a mere servant either. The prince had made no comment on his presence, and Anne treated her lover kindly but there really was no hint of admiration in her whatsoever. Nor in Nick, for that matter, he was merely the perfect guard.

The walk to the little house was very pleasant, spring had returned to the north and leaves were unfolding, birds singing. Elizabeth would just as soon have walked straight on into the park beyond the gate, but of course Mrs Brewer was waiting for them with some of her best sweets, made with ingredients from the Pemberley larders, others having been fetched from the nearest town. Mrs Brewer had only done the work, the expenses were Fitzwilliam's, and she knew they were bringing a gentleman to visit but not who he was. Hopefully none of the staff had gossiped in any of the nearby villages, though they generally didn't except among themselves.

The others were keeping up a lively conversation, even Georgiana was participating. She was so serious in her practising that sometimes even Elizabeth forgot she was actually still a girl. It did show now.

'Do you have a normal last name, Your Highness? Mrs Brewer would just die if she knew you were the crown prince, and not in a good way, she's very shy, you know. You'll have to be a mere gentleman of our acquaintance.'

Prince George obviously thought that hilariously funny, his expression became positively cheeky as he said, 'You may call me George, Mrs Fielding. Though I suppose that will merely draw the attention. What about Chester? Mr George Chester. I've been the earl of Chester my entire life, I suppose it's fitting.'

'Chester? That sounds like the strapping rosy-faced aide of a furniture hauler, Your Highness,' Georgiana replied, 'oy Chester, pull that rope a mite tighter or the gentle-folk's piano will drop to the cobbles!'

She really treated the Prince of Wales like a personal friend, but then, in a way they were kindred spirits, connected by a love of music. And indeed, Prince George laughed heartily and addressed Nick, 'I suppose you can do that a lot better, I've heard you are a Londoner born and raised?'

Nick took a theatrical look around for unwanted witnesses and repeated Georgiana's effort in a blistering dialect, not repeating her exact words but instead using slang and adding more than a few curses.

They all reacted the same, first they were a bit stunned to hear someone they thought they knew well utter such language, then they all burst out laughing. Prince George slapped his thigh and barely managed to say, 'That is even better than I thought. I admit I'd like to be Chester for a day, hauling furniture all day then going to a pub and drink ale, flirting with the girls.'

Anne said, 'I did that once, with Nick's former charges, the Blackwood twins. We went to a pub to dance, dressed like common girls. I danced with two local men and drank ale, though watered. It was great fun.'

'And you master knew that?'

Nick replied calmly, 'He did. At that time I didn't know he knew, I was afraid he'd find out and blame me for it, but he wanted his daughters to be as wild as they could in their youths and trusted me to keep them safe. We'd take one guard for each girl, also dressed in common clothes.'

'And you'd dance with the local girls?'

'Sometimes, yes. But usually we'd dance with our charges.'

Now, finally, Nick showed some feeling, his face became rather soft, he had good memories of that night in the pub. So did Anne, though she showed it a little less.

'So you danced with Mrs Manners, though I suppose she was still Miss de Bourgh then. I'm jealous.'

'In that pub she was merely Anne, with two pig tails. You certainly would have enjoyed that pub, Mr Chester, they dance very differently, too, you know. Less... formal one might say.'

Elizabeth knew that had been a memorable evening for both of them, both already very much in love but expecting to break their hearts rather thoroughly. Still that didn't show now, as Nick told it it had mostly been a rather wild night, something that would appeal to the prince. Mr Chester.

'Nick, you're killing me and you know it. You may be quite lost in love with one woman, but I'm not that strong. Have you ever danced in a less formal manner, Mrs Darcy?'

'I guess I haven't, Mr Chester. Not in public. Though I suppose I'd like to. Do you think I can get away with pig tails?'

'Oh yes, maybe even better than Mrs Manners. I can even imagine you talking like Nick did just now. It's what your husband loves about you, isn't it? He relishes your liveliness, and rightly so. I bet a lot of men do.'

'I cannot deny I've had my share of admirers, but only after Fitzwilliam brought me into society.'

'The way you call your husband by his first name in public is so endearing. But it does make him even more yours, somehow. And Mrs Fielding, have you danced other than proper?'

'Certainly not, my brother would never have allowed it. Though I've danced with a cowherd's son, does that count?'

'Did you wear pig tails?'

'It was at the New Year's Eve Ball.'

'It was Mr Fielding, wasn't it? He could never dance with a girl with pig tails, strangely enough, he is so dignified. Maybe I'll show up at the Ball this year, as Mr Chester. But I suppose I'd rather visit that bar Mrs Manners talked about.'


	143. Chapter 143

Chapter 153

By now they had reached the walled garden of the guard house, and Mrs Brewer was waiting for them by the side door. They shook hands, and Georgiana introduced Prince George as Mr Chester and Nick as Fowler. Nick was back to a servant by now, and interestingly, Prince George's demeanour was also different, his natural arrogance had disappeared and he seemed much less conspicuous somehow. Mr Chester addressed Mrs Brewer in such a kind, genial way that the rather sensitive woman felt totally comfortable with his presence.

She preceded them through her garden to her workshop, where she made intricate statues of iron. Her art belied her fragile looks, she had a forge and an anvil and while her creations were incredibly detailed and very life-like, the way she made them involved heating and hammering and cutting the iron, and sometimes melting it down altogether and casting it in a mould that she had carefully prepared. If there hadn't been several finished works and plenty of projects in various stages of completion hung on the walls and from the roof beams, the workshop would have looked like a smithy. As it was, it was clear this was not a regular smith's work space but an artist's haunt.

Mrs Brewer wore her usual artistic gown, Elizabeth supposed she'd exchange it for breeches whenever she set to work in a serious way, or maybe she'd merely put on a large leather apron, but she could not imagine the sleeves not getting caught in her work or at the very least having little burn holes spread all over them from the flying sparks.

As talkative as Prince George, Georgiana and Nick had been on their way over, so silent were they now, feasting their eyes on the works of art scattered all over the garden along the rambling path they were following to the back.

'Mrs Brewer, did you make all these things? Those with the burned glass as well?'

'Yes, Mr Chester, an artisan in the next village discovered a way to make coloured glass and whenever a batch fails, breaks or is coloured unevenly, he sends word and I buy it from him for a very reasonable price. I fit the pieces to my work, I have even made works to fit especially beautiful pieces of his glass. It's a process.'

'It's divine inspiration, Mrs Brewer,' Prince George stated firmly, his natural dominance asserting itself for a brief moment, 'you have a precious gift. I am certain it makes you happy to lock yourself in your own little world and create these fantasies in iron and glass, but really, more people should be allowed to see them. Would you mind very much if it were to become know what you are capable of?'

Mrs Brewer was a bit taken aback with his sudden assertiveness, but somehow the prince had a sort of innocence about him that made it difficult to take offence at what he said. And this was certainly a compliment.

'I'd not like to be all over the papers, like Mr Fielding. But it would make things easier for us if I could sell some of these pieces, I could buy new glass and iron, maybe even bronze and copper and order glass in a particular colour. And learn how to really burn images into the glass.'

'I know someone who would be very pleased to exhibit some of your work in a beautiful, large space where a lot of people visit. You'd not have to talk to the reporters yourself, he'd find someone to do that for you. Would you be interested in that?'

She was deep in thought for a few moments, undoubtedly considering what it would mean to have to talk to people, make arrangements to send her works all the way to London, and numerous other things.

'Mrs Annesley works on commission, she loves making the customer's fantasy into a reality. I think I would like that. So yes, please, I'd like to exhibit my best works, as long as I don't have to live in London myself and talk to all the people coming to look at them. I will show you the ones I love best myself if you have the time.'

'We have plenty of time, Mrs Brewer, as much as you have,' Georgiana said.

'Well, I thought we might start in my workshop, and then we can see my favourites in the house, and then we can have tea with some of my best pies. I cannot afford to make them regularly, the ingredients are much to dear for us, but I was glad to have the chance to perfect them.'

And she led them around them the workshop, which was as spotless as a workshop can be, in which she was working on no fewer than seven pieces at the same time. Three were nearing completion and two were in the first stages, but it was obvious she was a hard worker. After the workshop she took them to a separate room on the first floor, one Elizabeth hadn't seen before, which was filled up to bursting with lovely creations, plant-like objects that turned out to be chairs or lamps, the outlines of familiar animals made of iron pieces, with an almost natural movement in their still shapes, one large burned-glass painting of a red rose, but with an entire garden of glass flowers in the background. Everything was beautiful.

There were as much as twenty-five pieces there and they took their time to study them all, the prince asking numerous questions, the women overflowing with compliments and Nick in silent admiration. Elizabeth silently added a physical ability to his list of accomplishments, though this was probably not one Fitzwilliam would envy him: standing perfectly still and totally merging with the background.

Then they followed their hostess down the stairs and into the cosy drawing-room, where she urged them to sit down, though she allowed Nick to help her fetch tea. Anne didn't like to see him acting as a servant but it was the wise thing to do, it was the position they wanted the prince to believe Nick had and this was a perfect opportunity to enforce that opinion. She didn't show any sign of disliking her man assisting with the serving, of course Mrs Brewer wasn't a servant either but just a good hostess, but Anne also knew this was the only way for Nick to be in the company of the prince. Elizabeth thought it a little over the top to have him accompany her even on their own grounds, but they undoubtedly had a good reason for that. Or maybe Nick had merely wanted to see Mrs Brewer's house, or taste her best pies.

With his help they soon had the table ready, though at first Elizabeth thought it was ready and then another kind of pie appeared, and another. By the time Mrs Brewer asked Nick to sit down with the others, Prince George was showing eyes as wide as saucers and a broad grin, and Nick didn't look any different. They were anticipating the tasting! Anne seemed to be admiring the beautiful flowers adorning one of the cakes, of course there was no chocolate to be had this far from London, this far from Carlton House probably, but these pies and cakes looked beautiful with coloured glazes and little ornaments made of sugar or marzipan. Mrs Brewer had even made a cake statue as Elizabeth had described to her, except it wasn't in the shape of a group of people but an exact likeness of the little Greek temple in the park, a stone's throw from where they were sitting. The shape and the colouring were just perfect, and Elizabeth was very proud of the artist living on their very own doorstep who could make cakes as beautiful as a French confectioner. Two, actually.

'Mrs Brewer, you must have slaved in the kitchen for days!' Georgiana blurted out, and she did not often lose her professional calm.

The slender artist smiled, pleased with the admiration though she had to know how outstanding this was.

'I admit I had some help, Mrs Fielding. Mrs Reynolds sent me a maid to help out, and Mrs Eliot dropped in to see me work my magic, as she called it. She didn't sit still while watching us work, she did a good bit of the whipping of eggs and cream and the chopping of nuts and fruit. Nathan managed to find me some apricot preserve and some fresh lemons.

Now let me pour you some tea and then we'll tuck in. Which one would you like to try first, Mr Chester?'

'The one with the beautiful roses, please, Mrs Brewer. I cannot believe you made these all yourself, in a normal kitchen! Have you any idea what kind of amenities confectioners demand? Not ask, but demand?'

Careful, careful Prince George! But Mrs Brewer was merely interested.

'What is a confectioner, please, Mr Chester?'

Elizabeth thought everyone knew, but Prince George didn't show a single sign of surprise at Mrs Brewer's question.

'A confectioner is a very expensive cook who makes nothing but pies, cakes and sweets, Mrs Brewer. The best ones are from France, and they love to use expensive ingredients like vanilla, chocolate, Madeira wine, sugar, bergamot, and indeed apricot preserve and nuts, preferably almonds. Honey, too, but not just ordinary honey, only the kind made solely from linden flowers.'

'Oh, but that is indeed the best honey, I buy a few jars every year from a farmer a few villages from here. Though I do get your point, I've never even tasted chocolate or Madeira wine, it's supposed to be really good. And I have no idea what bergamot is. But are you seriously telling me there are cooks who make nothing but sweets? All day? Really?'

'Certainly Mrs Brewer. The best ones come from France, they are artists, like you, but they are not one hundredth as modest as you are.'

'I'd love to taste what they make, but I suppose only the very rich get to do that. Have you ever tasted their work?'

'I have had that privilege, yes, and so have Mrs Darcy and Mrs Fielding.'

'Well, then I hope my sweets won't be a disappointment, though I know Mrs Darcy and Mrs Fielding liked mine before.'

'We certainly did, Mrs Brewer,' Georgiana observed, 'as much as I liked the expensive things. Really.'

Prince George could no longer control himself, and since everyone had a piece of the cake with flowers by now he didn't have to. He carefully cut off a properly sized bite from the chunk on his plate and almost daintily put it in his mouth. They all watched him as he tasted it, well, except Nick, who was more interested in his own cake and was not far behind the prince in tasting it, though as neatly as he'd learned in the explorers' headquarters.

'This is just magnificent!' the prince exclaimed. 'The sponge cake is just right, not too dry but certainly not too moist either, that is very difficult to accomplish with filling. But I've never tasted anything like the filling, it's rich and creamy as it should be but what is the aroma? It's not fruit, nor vanilla, it cannot be pineapple or banana or even mango, this is rural England. Can you tell me, Mrs Brewer, or is it your secret? It's so unique!'

Elizabeth had taken a bite of her own piece and indeed it was just as the prince said, the cake was perfect, the filling was perfect, but it was the aroma that made it special, what was it? She could swear she had tasted it before, in summer, it reminded her of walking through her parents' garden at Netherfield. But they never ate anything in the garden, mama didn't approve of eating outside.

'I've made the flavouring myself, Mr Chester, with rose petals. I love to use herbs and flowers to make teas, and I loved tea made of rose petals so much I thought I'd use it to flavour a cake filling. So you like it?'

'Oh yes, very much! It's so subtle! You know Mrs Brewer, chocolate and vanilla are very tasty but there is nothing subtle about them, wherever they appear, they rule. Your rose flavour brings out the texture of the sponge and the lovely sweet taste that cream has of itself. It's a masterpiece!'

That was incredible praise from a man who employed two confectioners! Of course Mrs Brewer didn't know that, but even to her it was obvious Mr Chester knew about pies and cakes, and his praise made her very happy. Prince George was indeed in heaven, he ate the modest piece in small bites, relishing the special aroma. Last of all he picked up the flower and smelled it like the gentlemen would take in the aroma of a precious wine.

'It's not marzipan, is it? It smells of spirits and a flower I should know, but not rose. It's beautifully made, but of course I'd expect that from an artist.'

He bit off a small piece of the flower and tasted it as carefully as he'd smelled it.

'I'd say it's mainly sugar, but there is some cream involved and something else, again a flower, but not one I recognise.'

'I added a liquor I make myself, to help cure colds. It's made with elderflower and rosehips, it works really well but I also just like the taste as flavouring.'

'Elder-blossom, of course! I should have recognised it instantly. I'm afraid I've been spoiled with exotic flavours. Your flavours are a miracle, Mrs Brewer, and this flower is truly delicious as well as beautiful.'

This had obviously been a great move from Anne, to visit Mrs Brewer with someone who really knew his sweets. They all tasted every single pie and cake and Mrs Brewer and Prince George discussed every bite extensively, two pairs of eyes shining. Nick ate his full share of everything and Elizabeth didn't refuse either, but Anne didn't have a very sweet tooth so she asked for smaller pieces and got them, after which Georgiana dared the same.

'I do not want to turn into a battleship before I have grandchildren,' she said, laughing. 'I think I have the same physique as aunt Catherine, so I'd better learn to moderate my intake from the first.'

Not particularly diplomatic maybe with Anne present, but then Georgiana had been in a girlish mood all day. Prince George added a little insult upon injury by asking Anne, 'I suppose that being Mrs Fielding's aunt this comparison concerns your mother?'

Anne laughed openly to prove she didn't mind her cousin making fun of her mother.

'Yes, Mr Chester, Lady Catherine de Bourgh is my mother. She does resemble nothing so much as a battleship, not just in size, but also in character. Nothing can stop her, once she is on a certain course she will follow it and everything in her path either removes itself or is crushed. She just knows she is the most sensible person in England and she will bully anyone into believing her.'

'I wish I could meet her, she must be quite a character. I'd like to see her bully me. Or maybe I'd instinctively understand the value of her advice.'

They all laughed, except Mrs Brewer, who didn't know Lady Catherine. She did look at Prince George in a certain way and Elizabeth thought she understood: why would a battleship of a woman, a lady at that, hesitate to bully affable Mr Chester?

'I would love to see that, Mr Chester, but on the other hand I hope to be far from her company for at least the coming ten years. But I assure you, she will probably disappoint you if you see her at your home, people like her realise when they are outmatched.'

'True,' said the prince, and Elizabeth agreed, Lady Catherine would be much more impressed by his riches than Elizabeth herself had been.

Soon after this conversation they took leave of Mrs Brewer, with profuse thanks for her work, and a promise from Mr Chester to send someone over to arrange an exhibition in a very public location in London.

'Better decide as soon as possible which works you want to show the people, and whether you are prepared to sell them and for what price. Someone may turn up pretty soon.'

'Thank you so much, Mr Chester, I will. And I really enjoyed talking pie and cakes with you, most people I know do not have such a developed palate. I had a really pleasurable time making those sweets, and an even better time eating them. I'm glad some is left for Nathan when he comes home, he always said my pies were good enough for royalty.'

'And so they are, he didn't lie. Thank you again, and maybe we will meet again in the future.'

On their way back Prince George just couldn't seem to believe what had happened.

'You know what I pay those Frenchmen of mine? And what they spend on exotic ingredients? I suppose Mrs Brewer won't think about moving to London and starting a career as confectioner?'

Looking at Elizabeth he shook his head ruefully.

'I didn't think so, and frankly it would be a waste of her talent to make pies all day, she'd better think up new flavours and sell the recipes. I'm serious about the exhibition, by the way, and I want that one piece she had upstairs, the one just like a huge tropical plant only with iron leaves. I'm going to put it in my bedroom and keep it to myself until I have my Gothic conservatory and then I'll have it placed in there, to watch everyone surreptitiously touching the leaves to see if they are real. Do you think she'll mind dealing with my agent? I didn't feel like disturbing her with business today, you will tell her who I am afterwards, won't you?'

'I suppose we could do that, yes,' Elizabeth replied, 'but if you'd told her you were interested she could get used to the idea of parting with it. Apparently that is very hard for an artist. But I suppose that if she sends some of her work to London she may never see that again either because it got sold. And how will she get her pay?'

'You may warn her that I want that plant-like object. And of course her husband is your husband's steward, I suppose he will not just give my agent those works, he will ask for some assurance. I actually prefer dealing with people who know about finances. I will miss those pies only slightly less than Mr Fielding's music. I was so sorry to hear that you are all going to leave for the continent, I was planning to invite Mr Fielding over every week. I can get him to play with an orchestra in London, I know people.'

He knew? Who had told him? They had decided to not tell him not to take the chance of him ordering them to stay in London. Frederick thought he could.

Georgiana apparently knew and she replied, 'It is by no means certain that we will be able to go, Your Highness, apparently the Lower Countries are in turmoil, we didn't know that. How many other conflicts have we missed? I'd chance them but Eric fears for my safety. I suppose he never used to think that much of safety when he went to Prague, he was younger and not yet in love.'

'I'm sorry you had to hear that from me, Mrs Fielding, but of course my position means I have to know a lot more about the situation in the world. If you want to know what I am allowed to divulge I can spend an hour or two with all of you and a map of the continent.'

So not only did Prince George know they were planning to go to Vienna, he had told them passing through the Lower Countries would be dangerous because there was some kind of war going on?

'That would be very kind of you, Your Highness,' Georgiana said, and the prince replied, 'It's the least I can do after spoiling your plans. Maybe I can help you plan a new route, I have relatives in Hanover who would undoubtedly receive you and your husband and your companions with open arms. Then you can travel on from there.'

Oh well, she'd find out really soon, Fitzwilliam probably already knew what had happened. Maybe they could join the explorers when they talked to the prince, this sounded mighty interesting.

As they returned to the house the prince addressed Elizabeth, 'Do you have a conservatory, Mrs Darcy? I really think Mrs Brewer should have one of my bergamots but I'm afraid they cannot survive our climate out in the open. It's even colder this far north, isn't it?'

'It is, Your Highness. When we moved to London after spending our honeymoon here there was snow here but not in London. We do not have a conservatory yet, but we are planning to have one built. Frankly, it never occurred to me to have one until I saw yours at Carlton House, it was so magnificent I immediately wanted one. Fitzwilliam is investigating the possibilities already, you know, the best site, which style to build in. I suppose it may take a few years before we really have one built.'

'I beg to differ, Mrs Darcy. Your husband strikes me as someone who makes a decision then follows through with it. I bet you'll have your conservatory next winter or the one after that at the latest. Have it built in the Gothic style, it will be quite the thing, I'm told. I will give Mr Darcy the name of a man who can design the perfect Gothic-style conservatory for you. I'm waiting to have mine done but on the scale of Carlton House and to do it well I will have to wait a few years to scrape up the funds. When yours is done, please send word and I will have some of my trees uprooted for you. And for Mrs Brewer, you'll have to give her some of the fruit for her confectionery, for what she makes is more than just cakes and pies, she deserves the title of confectioner.'

While he was still very kind and attentive, Elizabeth had a strong impression that Fitzwilliam need not be jealous of the prince's attentions to Elizabeth anymore, he seemed to have accepted their bond as immovable. Good, that meant she could really enjoy the time they still had in Prince George's presence.

'The very word gives me a thrill, Your Highness, Gothic. It's not at all like us, we're both rather practical, but one of my first deeds here at Pemberley was to save the dining room we have been using, we have a much less ornate one that Fitzwilliam prefers, and he wanted to have the old one refurbished because it is so lavish. But I liked the fact that it was authentic, his ancestors dined there, and every single one of them added something of value. It would have been a shame to waste their efforts. So he agreed to keep it, and we will even add something of value ourselves, a beautiful centre piece made by our London housekeeper, she embroiders as beautifully as Mrs Brewer's pies are delicious. We have commissioned a large piece which will adorn some empty space on the dining-room wall, we've recently sent in the design and she is probably working on it as we speak.

I'd like to add something of value to the structure of the house as well, and I'd like it to be something that stands out. A Gothic conservatory would be just the thing. Thank you for your offer of the trees, I think we may very well accept it, though of course Fitzwilliam has the final say, it's his ancestral home and he is the one who has to keep up the family's honour.'

Prince George smiled in a certain way, he still liked her a lot but he was merely enjoying their conversation.

'I'm certain his ancestors are thanking you for saving their dining room, Mrs Darcy. It would have been a crying shame to destroy such a magnificent proof of his family's wealth and good taste. I love having my house decorated but there should be some respect for things of the past. Did you get to see my old armoury?'

'I did, yes, it was extraordinary, a real privilege to have been allowed to see it.'

'Thank you, Mrs Darcy. Your praise is worth a lot, since you are obviously not impressed by a mere display of riches. Maria told me you were not at all awe-struck when viewing Carlton House, and most people are. Even your aunt Catherine, I'd bet. Maria was very much impressed with you, and you can imagine she is usually a bit reticent towards other women of a certain style and intelligence, I've not been the most faithful of husbands.'

He was even married to another woman, though Elizabeth believed that if he'd had to choose just one, Mrs Fitzherbert would have been his ultimate favourite.

They entered the house together and made their way towards the drawing-room, where they separated to each do his own thing: Georgiana joined Eric at the instrument, Prince George was invited to join Frederick and Fitzwilliam for a game of billiards, and Anne and Elizabeth took up their little dresses. Nick had disappeared in the hall, with just a nod to Anne that she acknowledged with a similar nod and a tiny smile. It was there and gone in a flash, but it signified more than a lot of embraces and flowery farewells Elizabeth had witnessed.

When Simon entered Prince George's room to help him undress and make ready for the night, he did not expect much trouble with the prince's curiosity. According to Nick their visit to Mrs Brewer had been very satisfying for all parties involved, except maybe himself and Anne, since they were forced to act like mistress and servant. There had been no awkward questions or even frank ones, but merely Georgiana acting both her age and a very genteel hostess, Mrs Brewer's obvious genius, and Anne and Mrs Darcy being very lady-like in general, except that Mrs Darcy did not hesitate to eat as much of the sweets as any of the men.

'She did it daintily, though, and she is as physically active as any of us. Small chance of her getting as big as our guest.'

As observant as Nick was, he clearly hadn't spotted Mrs Darcy's gaining weight yet. To Simon it was obvious, and he'd bet a substantial amount on her indeed being with child, she had that glow as well. Gossip did confirm his suspicions, though no-one would dare mention such a juicy bit of information to him in person, he was part of the upper layer in the servants' hall by now, and he would not accept anyone talking about Pemberley's mistress. Servants knew everything, they knew when their mistress had her moon-time and therefore also when it didn't occur. Mrs Reynolds had not been amused with Pauline talking to the prince, and if Simon hadn't urged her to be lenient this once since Prince George was really good at getting people to talk, Pauline's employment at Pemberley would have ended there and then. As it was, she knew nothing special and whatever she knew she had already told the prince, so her duties would remain the same, with a strict lecture on telling Mrs Reynolds when one of the genteel folks leaned on her for whatever, be it a little gossip or more intimate favours.

According to Frederick the evening had been much the same, the gentlemen had played a game of billiards while the ladies stitched, and after that they had all listened to Eric playing one of his recent works. And now Frederick was waiting in their fancy exotic bed until Simon had helped his second charge.

'Simon, do come in, you're a very welcome sight!'

Well, nothing could be said against Prince George's reception, it was always hearty, and well-meant heartiness. He seemed to lack the false affection so many of his class professed, most notably Mr and Mrs Grenfell, though the latter hadn't been particularly affectionate to Simon last time he'd met her. Of course she'd never be kind to any servant if she could help it.

'Good evening, Your Highness, it's always a pleasure to be appreciated.'

He helped the prince out of his clothes and into a dressing gown, then carefully folded and put away the clothes, hanging out the coat and shirt, and leaving his hat and boots where they were supposed to be. Then it was time for a quick wash, shaving could wait until morning.

While Simon was using a soft cloth and plenty of soap to make the prince feel nice and clean, the conversation took a disturbing turn.

'I think I've solved half the mystery of Mrs Manners' marriage, and it worries me a great deal. I've seen some things that suggest how Mrs Manners can bear a loveless marriage, and now I'm afraid your master will find out and break her heart.'

Simon did not dare contradict a prince, or he would have rightfully objected that there was plenty of love between Frederick and Anne, that it was even very obvious whenever they were together. They might not have the inclination to kiss or make love, but they would do everything in their power to make the other happy.

'Come, Simon, you can tell me why you disagree, you of all people should know I'm just a man like you, though there is considerably more of me than of you and your features are arranged a lot better than mine, as if the good lord had Mrs Brewer's talent when he made you but was in a rush when I was put together. You have seen every inch of me and touched me, do I look or feel any different from any other man you've taken care of?'

Simon decided to answer with humour, though he felt more like begging him to let it go.

'Generally speaking, no, Your Highness. You have the same, as you put it yourself, features.'

'So there you have it. Now out with it, what did I say that you disagree with?'

'There is plenty of love between Mr and Mrs Manners, Your Highness. Their marriage is not loveless.'

'But they are not in love. I concede that they like each other very much, maybe even love each other like brother and sister. But I know whom Mrs Manners really loves, and I'm afraid it will bring her and her lover a world of trouble.'

Of course there was nothing Simon could say. Apparently they hadn't been careful enough for a man like Prince George.

'You are silent like the grave, but you know what I am talking about. So it's all over the servants' hall already. Is he a bragger?'

He had to try to pretend he knew nothing, hadn't he? His loyalty lay with his friends, not this devilishly clever man.

'There is no talk of any kind about Mrs Manners in the servants' hall, Your Highness. As far as even her own maid is concerned she is very happy in her marriage.'

He really wás concerned, for he showed relief instead of chagrin to have been wrong in his surmise. But despite believing Simon he did not let go.

'So the rest of the servants don't know, but you do. At least he isn't toying with her feelings as he has with so many other ladies', but what if your master finds out?'

Washing and drying done, Simon helped the prince into his nightshirt and led him to the chair in front of the mirror. Very gently he combed out the prince's thinning hair. There was nothing he could say, Prince George knew, they could only hope he'd keep it to himself for no-one else would even discover the mystery he had set out to solve. Anything Simon said could only make things worse.

'So you know, but you're not going to tell me anything. Aren't you worried? If your master finds out don't you think Mrs Manners will suffer as much or more as your friend? Don't you care about her at all?'

Remembering the night Simon had spent with Anne when she had an opium-induced delusion that her mother was going to kill her to use her blood to stay young forever, Simon tried to keep his face straight and not give the prince even more information.

'I apologize. You obviously do care, about both. And you're not worried about them, you're worried about me. There is more going on, and I'm getting perilously close to finding out. Simon, I'm not out to ruin anyone's life, I'm just afraid that the most beautiful angel on earth will find herself trapped in an unhappy marriage without love. Or that Manners will not merely separate them but harm either of them when he finds out.'

Simon was in a terrible quandary, not saying anything would be insufferably rude, he was a servant!

'Mrs Manners would not thank you for not taking her seriously. She is not a feeble-minded female who doesn't know what is good for her, she is a self-assured gentlewoman who can take excellent care of herself.'

That was all. Now he wanted to leave and seek some comfort by Frederick's side. It felt as if this was all his fault, that he had been too free with information while in fact he hadn't said that much at all. Prince George was just very good at putting pieces together, and somehow he had taken it upon himself to get to the bottom of Anne's love life. The only thing they could hope for was that he could not imagine Frederick loving a man, whatever horrible preference he attributed to Frederick instead.

'I know she is, Simon, I know! Which is why I wonder why she ever decided to marry a dominant man like Manners. And I know what she told me herself was the absolute truth, but what if it all falls apart?'

Simon had to go, he had nothing to add to what he had already said.

'I am done, Your Highness, may I please be excused to attend to my master?'

Fortunately his humble attitude did hurt the arrogant prince.

'All right, all right, I concede, it's unfair to press you about your employer. I can see you really want to leave, but I'd feel bad all night if I let you go like this. Will you believe me if I promise you I only want to know that Mrs Manners is safe? That she will have some love and happiness in her life? I'm not a damned reporter to find out about people's lives then try to ruin them! Please don't punish me for my rudeness by not attending to me anymore, I need your care, desperately! I promise I will let you know if I find out anything else, and no-one else. Just you, Simon, it will be our secret, which means you can keep an eye on me. Until I know beautiful, kind Anne Manners is safe, then I'll stop. And I won't ask you anything, no-one will be able to reproach you anything. They cannot, for they won't know.'

There was no way in which Simon would just tell him Anne would be safe, it would give away even more. They would all have to be so much more careful still, especially Frederick and himself. He bowed deeply in acknowledgement, to also let the prince know that he did not like it but would obey.

'I suppose I'll have to prove myself first. Your dedication to your master is commendable, Simon. I'm very sorry you cannot trust me, but I do understand. Will I see you tomorrow morning?'

'Yes, Your Highness, I will be here at the usual time.'

'Thank you very much. I will prove myself trustworthy, really.'

Simon fled.


	144. Chapter 144

At breakfast, Stokes handed Darcy a letter that caused his heart to shoot up right into his throat. He instantly recognised the quality of the paper and the handwriting: it was aunt Catherine's. The last time he'd received a letter from her hand it contained a load of offensive language about the love of his life, and whilst he'd already loved Elizabeth more than life itself at that time, by now he actually knew whom he had married and he loved her even more. Because yes, that was possible. If his aunt's reply to his letter seeking information was of a similar nature that would mean the end of any possibility of contact, he would not suffer his beloved to be insulted.

Of course the others instantly understood what the letter was all about, but there was no way in which Darcy could read it before them with Prince George present. Fortunately, Fielding proved his sensibility by catching the prince's attention.

'Would you care spend half an hour on a few Bach pieces I have adapted from harpsichord to piano? I'll play it on harpsichord afterwards, we have one upstairs, in our private apartment.'

Of course Prince George knew he was being kept from something, but there wasn't much he could do about it. And besides, he really did love music.

'I'd love to, you're the only pianist I know who deigns to still play the harpsichord. It's almost a forgotten art, and yet it is so beautiful. Can we start with the harpsichord?'

'Certainly, we can do that right after breakfast, I have my Bach upstairs anyway.'

And that was it, they finished breakfast and retreated to the confidence room, where Darcy decided to read the letter himself, if there was anything rude against Elizabeth in there she would not have to see that, let alone read it out loud.

When they were all seated, Manners cleared his throat and spoke first.

'I'm sorry to interrupt what I guess is a bit nerve-racking for you, Darcy, but I have something you all need to know and this is too perfect an opportunity to pass by with Prince George safely in Eric's hands. Do I have your permission to proceed?'

It sounded ominous, and Darcy nodded.

'Of course, Manners, I hope it's nothing really bad?'

'I'll let you judge for yourself. You know by now that the prince has gotten a maid to talk about our arrangements on the second floor, and he has also kindly but incessantly drawn Simon out when he is doing his assumed duties. Yesterday evening, Simon returned really upset, the prince had dryly informed him he knew about Anne and Nick seeing each other. He professed being very concerned about Anne's fate if their affair were to come out, and Simon did not dare say anything, mostly because the prince is indeed devilishly clever and would undoubtedly distil even more knowledge from whatever he said, but of course also because the man is going to be our king.

So, Simon merely hinted that Anne was a woman grown and didn't need a man to patronize her, but nothing more. Prince George let him know he'd pursue his inquiries to be certain Anne would be safe, but to keep his findings to himself and tell only Simon of his progress. Poor Simon is in a state, he fears he will be blamed when he has no way to avoid being alone with a man he says can get a rock to spill its life's story. I just want you to know what is going on and to be on your guard around him. Always. He may even be more clever than you, Anne.'

'I am certain he is, Frederick. He will not stop until he knows the truth, and I'm afraid he will stay until he knows. Do I have to intervene, tell him to leave our private lives alone?'

'He will only use it to gain more information, and he'll know Simon talked to us, proving he is more to us than just a servant. Try to tell him nothing, though it will be difficult. All the private information he gains about us will enable him to force us to stay in England instead of going abroad.

Well, that was about it. Poor Simon, he had to go back this morning, and then again this afternoon, and tonight, I feel bad for him and guilty I suggested it. Now, I've said what I had to say, please carry on.'

Poor Simon indeed, Darcy had never known him as anything than close-mouthed, and now it would seem to him as if this had all started with him, when in fact Prince George had been systematically questioning them all.

'Will you please tell Simon no-one reproaches him with anything?' Darcy said, knowing all too well he didn't have anything to lose, Anne and Frederick and their lovers were in danger. But Simon would appreciate his assurance, he had always respected Darcy.

'Thank you, Darcy, that will mean a lot to him,' Manners proved him right.

Then he could no longer postpone the inevitable, and he neatly opened the envelope and read the following, out loud for Georgiana, Elizabeth, Anne and Manners to hear.

My dear Nephew,

I cannot deny to have read your letter with mixed feelings. It has hurt me a great deal to have had the apple of my eye, my dear sister's son, whom I invested so much time in to help succeed in life despite the disadvantages of his worthless father, turn against me, and so violently. For six months I have wondered what I did wrong in your upbringing to cause you to make such an unfortunate decision, but since you still seem to support it I suppose the less said about it the better.

Darcy was ready to let his anger get the better of him at this offensive suggestion, as if aunt Catherine had raised him instead of his very own father, but four smiling faces instantly took the sting out of his aunt's offensive opening. What else had he expected?

'At least we know your aunt wrote this herself, my love. My father would give his right arm to have a connection like this, diversion ascertained. No offence, Anne.'

'None taken, Elizabeth. I like your father a great deal better than I like my mother. I wish they could meet, that would be one of the more rewarding moments of my life. Now please continue, Darcy.'

In a way this may have been the better course of events, since I gather you are planning to sully the Darcy name even further than by two unworthy marriages. Spencer tells me your spouses are the absolute cream of London society, but he was always weak where love was concerned, since he doted on his flighty little wife beyond what was proper. My late husband Sir Lewis de Bourgh never saw fit to adapt any of these capricious professions of undying love, he was a sensible man and a good, stable husband. And a loving father to Anne, though in hindsight I tend to regret letting him spoil her so.

Now it was Anne's turn to look angry.

'As if we never had that terrible row at the parsonage! As if she didn't totally ignore me for ten years! Poor papa, that woman was all he knew. Mr Bennet is much better at that, too, papa never managed to find a life of his own, she managed to control his every minute except those he spent on me. I bet she hated me for it.'

Manners now proved Simon right and Prince Charles wrong by taking Anne in his arms and comforting her very gently.

'Ten years are a long time, my dear Anne, but you will adapt Mr Bennet's philosophy yet and find your mother's folly merely entertaining. Now you may be angry if you want to, what your mother did to you was not nothing.'

And he was right, Anne was doing magnificently.

Anyway, at least my dear Anne is spared the association with your father's coming infamy by making a sensible commitment to a gentleman of impeccable descent. Mr Manners has written me a very kind letter which proves he is as sensible and as respectable as Sir Lewis ever was.

I do not hesitate to admit that I have been very lonely last winter, without my dear daughter and Mrs Jenkinson. It is impossible to find a sensible companion, Mrs Collins used to be suitably obliging but having a boychild has changed her, I suppose the certainty of improving herself in the future has made her put on airs. She keeps Mr Collins at home with her most of the time with some excuse about the baby, though the thing is as healthy as a child has a right to be. Of course her family is as prolific as most country people, for your sake I hope your situation won't prove the exception, since the papers have been maintaining a stubborn silence on this subject.

And Mr Collins professes to have little time to spend with me but I see him often, crossing the lane, I suppose to enter the back of the house. He has time to lecture my staff but not to play whist with me. But nobody wants to hear an old woman complain, especially not those who profited most from her wisdom, which is why I shall come to the point: I have the letters you asked for in my possession. I advise you to keep them to yourself, nothing can be gained by exposing your family through the follies of one of its members. But they are yours by right, so I will take care they will come into your possession safely.

Which is why I will wait on you at Pemberley as soon as possible, leaving tomorrow. I cannot deny wishing to see my dear daughter again, and finally meet her husband, though I had to read of her wedding in the papers. Of course I must also profess an interest in seeing how your lady manages a household the size of Pemberley's instead of enjoying her mother's efforts at making ends meet. Besides my personal maid I expect to bring four other members of my staff.

Looking forward to seeing you again,

'I love my mother-in-law already!' Manners exclaimed, laughing. 'We'll have the best times together.'

'Well, she certainly changed her mind radically, though not her tone,' Elizabeth observed.

'What will you do, Darcy, will you let her in?' Anne seemed the only one to understand his quandary, he didn't want his aunt in his house, especially not with so many relatives coming over. Hopefully Prince George would have left by then.

'I suppose I will have to, dear Anne. She is still my aunt and I did ask for those letters. But as explorers you can of course spend much of your time in your headquarters, you need not sit with her.'

'She must have made a few more mistakes in your upbringing that you would even consider not receiving her with open arms. I'm sorry, Anne, Darcy, to make fun of something that must be pretty serious to you. But I will support you as I did with Mr Collins, I can draw your aunt's attention and keep her entertained and out of your hair.'

Imagine aunt Catherine with Mrs Bennet, the possibilities for ruining their time together with the people Darcy actually liked were endless. Mrs Bennet was easy to ignore, but aunt Catherine...

'But Fitzwilliam, doesn't aunt Catherine's letter more or less prove that George is our half-brother? She talks about bringing the family down, I suppose she means papa having a bastard son by mentioning that.'

'It could be, Georgiana,' Elizabeth replied, 'but if it were to become public knowledge that your father was an adulterer that would be shameful enough. Of course there is no real reason to let anyone know your father had a mistress unless a child had ensued, the only reason to tell Wickham that his mother had an affair with your father would be if he was his son, he has the right to know that his dear friend was actually his father and knew it. But still, Lady Catherine's remark doesn't prove anything, we'll need to see those letters to be certain. If only Prince George has left by then, nothing good can come of those two meeting. Though I dread the very thought of my mother and Lady Catherine in the same space.'

'The latter is a lot more likely than Prince George not having left in four days, my love. Maybe we can adapt your father's view on people: enjoy the diversion they have to offer us. And I am certain that your mother and aunt Catherine in the same room will offer a world of diversion.'

'For those strong enough to be able to enjoy the follies of others, Darcy,' Anne said, 'I intend to be one of them. No offence, Elizabeth.'

'None taken, Anne, it's a real comfort to me that I am not the only person present with a very annoying mother. Aren't you proud, Georgiana, that you rated your own insult from Lady Catherine?'

Georgiana laughed and replied, 'Certainly. So far she always managed to ignore me. I almost hád to marry a cow herd's son, to gain her attention, you know.'

'Do you suppose that is why I fell in love with a commoner? To be noticed by my own mother? If I'd married Darcy she would still have had eyes only for him.'

'I can get you noticed by your mother, too, my dear wife,' Manners interjected with a smile, and Darcy was sure he could, 'but do you want to? I know her advice is priceless, but so far you seem to have managed quite well without. I suppose you are not going to adapt to her? Riding, shooting, you name it, we'll still be doing that together?'

'Of course we are,' Darcy exclaimed, 'this is my house, I'll not have my aunt tell me what to do here. We may want to move the Zumpe back to your headquarters, though, so you can escape from her constant notice. As soon as Prince George leaves, I'd suggest.'

They decided to do just that, and then they were done. Darcy was planning to take Prince George on a ride with his thoroughbreds that morning, but it seemed unwise to go all by himself, and there was someone in their midst who had asked to experience them flying.

'Manners, do you want to join Prince George and myself for an exciting ride behind my thoroughbreds?'

Their friend's eyes lighted up and he said eagerly, 'Yes, please! I really want to see his reaction, but I also want to experience the speed myself. I'll skip the riding lesson this once, though I must say I never thought I'd improve my riding this much. Still, summer is yet to come, plenty of time to perfect my seat.'

At Bob's request, Bruce was going to join him on the box, he knew what he was signing up for, and Darcy hardly recognised the young bully he'd sent to Pemberley to learn about loyalty and hard work. Bruce had learned a lot about horses as well, and soon he'd learn about himself: was he as fearless as all young fellows considered themselves?

They were going to use Elizabeth's carriage, it was not the fastest Darcy owned but one could not have a team of four in front of a curricle. Using thoroughbreds would be close to suicide. And anyway, he was not going to drive those horses himself, he was a reasonable driver but handling even two thoroughbreds was too much of a good thing. A four-in-hand was totally out of the question, that took years to learn. If Elizabeth ever got too large with child to ride safely he'd exchange the curricle for a phaeton and have Bob teach them both to drive well, but they'd stick to a single horse or a pair of very gentle ponies.

'So, Mr Darcy, I've heard you have a special treat for me!'

Prince George really was trying to make friends, maybe Darcy should make a little extra effort and be a little more forthcoming.

'Indeed, Your Highness, I think it is time you experienced true speed. Manners here hasn't tried it yet, either, though he did join us riding side-saddle. You see my stable staff all had a go on a lady's saddle and they practically challenged me to do the same. Have you ever tried?'

'I cannot say I have, though I have often wondered how ladies keep their balance, and with those full skirts hanging to one side to make it even more impossible. But true speed? You mean with your team of thoroughbreds?'

'That is exactly what I mean, Your Highness. You, me and Manners going as fast as they can. Well, and my driver, of course, to keep it safe.'

Now Prince George looked almost hungry, wasn't he allowed to do dangerous things? Riding behind those thoroughbreds wasn't more dangerous than riding a horse at a gallop. It was probably safer, especially with Bob driving.

'Yes! That sounds like great fun, even in my circle I have heard of your team of thoroughbreds, the envy of every gentleman. You say it isn't dangerous? But it's very exciting, isn't it?'

'I suppose it is. A colonel of my acquaintance thought it rather too exciting, and he has seen action abroad five times.'

'I cannot wait. I have too little excitement in my life, I should slip my leash more often.'

Frederick knew why Darcy was taking him along, an extra man would mean an uncomfortable ride for Darcy facing backwards at full speed but he did not want to be alone with Prince George. And rightfully so, the man was so astute no-one should be alone with him, as poor Simon was forced to three times a day. They could only hope he would soon leave, but even that was a vain hope: Frederick was convinced he would not return to London until he had found out whatever Frederick and Anne were hiding. Truly, the danger of Darcy betraying anything was a lot less acute than the danger from Frederick himself, he knew he wanted to protect Simon from further harassment, if needed by asserting Anne was safe in his hands. But Frederick shouldn't even know that Prince George doubted that, Simon should not be as intimate with his master as to share such knowledge.

Frederick let the prince enter the little carriage first, then followed him in, the two men taking the front-facing seat together, while Darcy was still outside talking to his driver, or rather the tall lad accompanying him on the box seat.

'Mr Darcy seems very connected to his people somehow, don't you think, Manners? I noticed the first time while we were riding through those villages, they were so well kept and yet so personal somehow. As if he knows all people need some art and some beauty in their lives.'

'I'm certain he does, or he would not have taken in Fielding when he was in dire straits. And his housekeeper in London makes the most incredible pieces of mere canvas and thread, arguably the best silk thread available and even gold and silver thread, but still. It's true art. And the boy he is talking to now got sent to Pemberley from London as a punishment because he had bullied several of the staff, and now his main victim is teaching him how to handle a team of four. Darcy takes his duties as landowner very seriously indeed.'

'And yet he barely speaks to me. Though I suppose I understand that, I do have this reputation. But I think I have found a way to win him, thanks to your lady wife.'

Frederick had no time to comment, for Darcy was done and entered the carriage, seating himself backwards.

'I'm sorry it took so long, but I wanted to make sure the stable hands hadn't dared Bruce to come along. It can be very frightening to go this fast, and on the box I think it is actually dangerous, one could fall right off. I wanted him to know what he was getting himself into.

Now, gentlemen, are you comfortable? It's going to be a bit of a ride to find a safe place to let the horses go, we don't want to turn any corners or surprise some farmer or forester coming from a lane to the left or right. But Bob knows exactly the right place where to give them their heads, I suspect he does it all the time when exercising them. It keeps them mellow, you see.'

'This Bob of yours is not a particularly large or strong fellow, is he?' Prince George asked.

'He certainly isn't. But apparently it's the will that makes the driver, not the size.'

'I believe that. Your lady is rather small and yet she sits that hunter like she was born in the saddle. Considering that thoroughbreds originated from Arab horses in a way hers is a thoroughbred, too.'

'That is certainly true, though of course I didn't just buy her any hunter, this one is fast but relatively mild.'

'Mr Darcy, my first impression was that you and Mrs Darcy had fallen in love instantly, but your cousin said that wasn't the case at all. She said it was a very romantic story and that I should ask Mrs Darcy about it. But I'd like to hear it from you. Would you please tell me how you met?'

Well, the prince did say Anne had told him something that he'd use to try to break the ice with Darcy, and if anything could do that, this was it.

Darcy looked surprised, but not displeased.

'I suppose I can tell you, yes, though I still don't see what is so romantic about it since I was almost left all alone with my heart broken forever.

I met Miss Elizabeth Bennet when I was staying with a friend in Hertfordshire. He is fond of society, so we started to attend meetings in the nearby village, and my friend fell head over heels in love with a local girl, Elizabeth's sister. She is a true beauty and very calm and mild of character. I hated Hertfordshire, the people were unsophisticated, full of themselves, loud and obnoxious. I didn't see then that they were also welcoming and kind, and with my friend's sisters I enjoyed finding fault in all of them. Miss Elizabeth Bennet, too, and she overheard me calling her of a barely tolerable appearance, not handsome enough for me to dance with.'

Prince George was totally taken up with this story and he exclaimed, 'You didn't! Oh my, she cannot have taken that well, I'm very sure your lady has a bit of a temper!'

Darcy nodded ruefully, and continued, 'She took an instant dislike to me, though I didn't know and at that point didn't yet care, and I cannot say my behaviour to her improved any. Not even when I started to notice her unique character, her intelligence, her wit, the totally different way in which her mind worked. You know she once remarked how poetry was a very effective way to cure a preference for someone? Then when I said I'd always considered it the food of love, she laughed and observed how everything fed a healthy, strong love, but that she was convinced a single well-written sonnet could starve away a thin inclination instantly.

I'm afraid I was long past that cure myself at that point, but still I treated her miserably, I was arrogant, condescending, mostly afraid she'd find out about my preference and claim me. When all this time she seriously disliked me, and clearly showed her dislike with remarks that always bordered on insolence. I thought she was being piquant, trying to catch my attention, trying to get me to show my preference. Which I didn't want to, I wanted her but she was so much beneath me, I seriously thought I could not burden my family with hers. We then left the neighbourhood to separate my friend from her sister, his sisters thought her beneath their brother as well, and I agreed. I didn't see her for months. But I thought of her all the more, and I never saw another woman that could begin to compare to her.'

Darcy seemed to be reliving that time, and he was so much more human all of a sudden. Prince George also noticed and asked, 'So did you seek her out eventually, if you loved her so much?'

'I didn't. I still thought her beneath me and I wanted to forget her, but I just couldn't. I could ignore my love, I've always had iron control over my feelings and I managed to just live on without her.

But then I met her again at my aunt's house, and she really formed a bond with another of my cousins, an army colonel and a very pleasing, outgoing man. They had such a good time together and I could only look on and sometimes try to talk to her, make a connection without encouraging her. For I really believed she knew I was in love with her and was flirting with me when in fact she hated me by now. Someone had told her a bunch of lies about me, and I had separated her sister from my friend, which had cost her sister quite a lot of grief.

She was never kind to me, but I wasn't to her, either, and I admired her clever remarks so much I never realised they were intended to hurt me. It just never occurred to me that she might hate me, I was handsome, rich, sought after by other women, I thought she was merely trying to catch my attention.'

'So you loved your lady for her impertinence, which is a rather singular foundation for a marriage.'

'It is, it is! As I found out when I decided to throw duty and family into the wind and proposed. I expected her to accept gladly, and instead got a polite but resolute refusal. In my shock I let myself say some things I shouldn't have, which she returned a hundredfold with a brutal reflection on my behaviour towards her and also to her sister and the person who had lied to her. I was crushed and left quickly, devastated. But I couldn't let her hate me, so I wrote her a letter to explain about her sister and set those lies straight.

Then I was literally sick with love for a few months, but I also did some serious soul searching. She had been right about my feeling superior in so many ways. I realised I had treated her abominably, and not just her, most people around me, even my friend and my sister. I tried to change, and found support in a lot of places where I hadn't expected it.

That summer I was on my way to my steward when I turned around to look at some city people come to view the house, and saw Miss Elizabeth Bennet among them. You can imagine my feelings on beholding her so unexpectedly, on my own grounds. I managed to greet her politely, then fled to hide my feelings for I knew she despised me. But my housekeeper caught me in my distress and advised me to look her up in my park and be very nice. I did, and Miss Elizabeth had obviously read my letter and believed some or all of it. I was still very much in love and I tried to convince her I'd improved myself, not with talk but by showing her. Some complications cropped up but I managed to solve them, and first I enabled my friend to come to an agreement with her sister, whom he still loved. I now met Miss Elizabeth regularly but I couldn't read her at all, I'd been wrong once to my detriment, I couldn't risk getting rejected again, it would have killed me.

Then my aunt visited to tell me she'd seen Miss Elizabeth because there were some rumours she would soon get married to me. Gossip in the village had caused that because her sister was engaged to my friend. My aunt described exactly how Miss Elizabeth had refused to promise to not ever marry me, hoping to get such a promise from me. But it had the exact opposite effect, I rode to Hertfordshire as soon as possible and proposed a second time, and this time she accepted. She had come to realise I was a better man than she'd thought, and I suppose my steady affection for her had somehow made her kindly inclined towards me.'

Now Frederick felt obliged to say something.

'Nonsense, Darcy, she didn't marry you out of pity. She had come to love you because you are worthy of being loved: you are very handsome, and smart and educated, and she'd found out that under that proud exterior you have a very kind and noble soul. Just look at how your staff love you, you care about even the lowest stable boy.'

'I'm with Manners here, Mr Darcy, your little wife obviously admires you, she did not marry you out of pity or to be worshipped. She needs a strong man who can handle her independent spirit and she knows it, she'd never have married a weak or dependent man.'

'That is exactly what her father said when I had to ask him for his permission to wed. Also that he'd never dare refuse me anything I condescended to ask. He did not approve of his daughter accepting me.'

'So you know where she got her strong mind. And does he still object to his daughter improving herself a hundredfold?'

'No, but only because he'd misjudged me. If I was still the man who fell in in love with his daughter he would be very sorry, it is the obvious love and respect between her and me that has given him faith in his daughter's choice. Mere riches do not impress him.'

'As they don't impress her. And this aunt who tried to bully your lady away from you, is that Mrs Manners' mother?'

'She is. Lady Catherine de Bourgh.'

'And does she know how important a role she played in finally bringing the two of you together? I suppose it would have happened eventually with your best friend married to her sister, but still...'

'I don't think she does, no. That is actually a bit of a shame, isn't it? I'm very thankful to her for giving me enough hope and courage to try again.'

'Well, maybe you should tell her then. Though I seem to have heard she isn't very popular among you all right now.'

'That has to do with the language she used towards me about Elizabeth, it was very offensive and I do tend to get a little protective over my beloved. Elizabeth couldn't care less, she measures foolish people by their entertainment value and aunt Catherine rates very low on that scale, she's merely offensive and loud. And also because of what she did to Anne.'

'She told me, I couldn't believe it at first but now I actually worry about my own father. He has regular bloodlettings, and I fear they may be harmful to him. Well, I cannot lecture you on respecting one's parents, I'm not too popular in that quarter myself. But I do think your story was very romantic, Mr Darcy. I thought you had fallen in love at first sight, you're so close and so obviously in love. It's enough to make a fellow jealous, isn't it, Manners?'

Frederick thought of a pair of lean shanks and the most beautiful face in the world gazing at him with love and had no trouble asserting the prince, 'Not particularly, no. I think I've done rather well where love is concerned.'

And there was nothing Prince George could say about that, for Frederick had done very well, even if Anne had been his true partner. Even though the prince knew Anne loved her guard, he could not know Frederick didn't love her with all his heart.

'That makes me even more jealous of both of you. I know I have myself to thank for most of it, but I have not been particularly fortunate in my choice of a wife. Of course it wasn't my choice at all, my father decided whom I should marry, but I really thought I was reasonably accomplished in dealing with the ladies, you know, making myself agreeable to any of the fair sex. I have always considered women superior companions, they are generally morally stronger, have finer manners and more natural appreciation for the arts than men. I know they can be quite ruthless to each other, I have never been blind to their little intrigues, but again, their mutual likes and dislikes are generally uttered in a subtle way, which sometimes provides an entertainment all of its own. I'm sure your lady is an expert in this, Mr Darcy, if she has ever been forced to take a dislike to someone.'

'I just told you I fell hopelessly in love with her over such subtleties, Your Highness, whilst not understanding their true meaning at all.'

Darcy sounded wistful rather than offended.

'True, that is what caused me to think she might be a master of the truly subtle insult. Has she ever taken a dislike to another lady?'

'She almost had to, my best friend's sisters did their very best to make Miss Elizabeth Bennet's life miserable whenever she was anywhere close to me. One of them had set her sights on me, you see.'

'I'm sure she rose to the occasion beautifully,' the prince said gleefully.

'Well, at first she seemed to reserve her wit for me, mostly. I suppose she truly hated me and merely rather disliked Miss Bingley. And when she'd read my letter and we met again she wasn't as lively as she used to be, even though Miss Bingley was provoking her somewhat less than subtly. Georgie said it was because she was falling for me, but I tend to think it was because her aunt was there, a very sensible, righteous gentlewoman. Then once we were married she did rub it in a little, yes. But only a little.'

'It may have seemed just a little to you, Mr Darcy, but it probably tore her enemy's heart. That is what ladies are supposed to be like. But Caroline now, my wife, when we first met there was nothing subtle about her. She was as coarse as a boatman, she didn't like my looks and didn't hesitate to let me know. I'm sure I was a disappointment since painters always cheat when commissioned to paint a royal, but she wasn't all they said she would be either. From a distance she looked nice enough, though not my type, since I'm convinced people are generally attracted to their physical opposites and Caroline is my cousin so we look quite a bit alike. But from up close... I am a fastidious man, I like to be clean and well groomed, which is why I appreciate your valet's efforts on my behalf so much. From up close, Caroline did not just smell, she stank. Not just a little sweat of fear, surreptitiously hidden behind a sweet perfume. No, this was a thick blanket of sweat and more offensive bodily fluids mixed with the odour of rotting teeth, it was enough to set even a night soil man or a tanner gagging. She didn't wear a perfume, nor had she taken the trouble to put on clean underwear. Her dress was beautifully made of precious fabrics, but when the time came for me to do my duty to my father and my country, even a state of near intoxication couldn't keep me from noticing the state of her chemise and petticoats. Her attendant, Lady Jersey, had seen fit to tell me that my new wife had only bathed right after her arrival on British soil, and refused to have herself cleaned after following nature's call. Believe me, it showed. Gentlemen, I pride myself on being a good lover, but that night I merely did my duty, and after some time thanked the Lord I didn't have to repeat the effort.

Caroline is not dumb, but uninformed with no drive to improve her mind in any way, or do anything else with her time. She says what comes into her mind, she does not hesitate to tease and plague those beneath her, and I suspect her of being promiscuous. She was kept out of society all her life, never allowed to dance, to socialize with people her age, and yet she impressed me not with naivete, but struck me as having turned down refinement, as choosing to be coarse and uneducated, and ignorant of every art except maybe music. When in private, her manners struck me as seasoned rather than slightly fearful, as I've heard virgin girls are supposed to be. I've always preferred experienced women, but they were interested in me, which she certainly wasn't. Despite her sheltered upbringing I would have guessed she was not a virgin and hadn't been for some time. I cannot guess what kind of men she could have met in her situation, certainly no gentlemen. Her language in the bedchamber was curious enough to suspect her being involved with German country folk, but I cannot think how she could have escaped her parents' vigilance to give herself to commoners. Be that as it may, I clearly bored her, and she disgusted me. We were both glad to part company after our little daughter was born.'

Well, that was more than both Darcy and Frederick himself had bargained for. This was a desperately sad story, and whomever was in the wrong, most likely both, Frederick was certain Princess Caroline was suffering as much or more than her faithless husband. Frederick had never had any woman, let alone a virgin, but he had been a virgin once and he knew he had been fearful of what was to come. An experienced ladies' man like Prince George would know if his wife had been active in that area, and though he could be lying to make a better impression he sounded sincere. Besides, why would he lie? They weren't people he would have a lot to do with, this was an almost involuntary confession, brought on by one of those pieces Eric had played for him and Darcy's romantic story, no doubt.

Darcy rose to the occasion by somehow letting go of his usual reticence and saying with feeling, 'We've all heard things about your marriage, of course, but I must admit I have often felt a strong aversion to some women, even ladies. It must be awful to be married to someone you cannot love. To someone you cannot even like.'

Fortunately, they were saved from further revelations by a knock on the little window towards the box: they had reached the place where Darcy's driver dared give the team their heads.

'Are you ready to make some speed?' he asked both his passengers, and they both nodded, Prince George bracing his feet against the opposite seat, which Frederick thought was a great idea.

'At you convenience, Bob,' Darcy then called out, apparently his driver could hear that with the window slightly open, closed the window quickly and sat down himself.


	145. Chapter 145

There was a bit of a lurch when the horses took off with a sudden burst of speed, finding Frederick doing his utmost to trust the solidity of Darcy's carriage and its tack, and the sure-footedness of his horses, to enjoy the thrill of the experience. The scenery, a rather flat plain covered with heath on both sides of the road, flashed by and still they were gaining speed. As Anne had described, at first it was as if the carriage rattled across every little stone on the road, but when suddenly that stopped the silence was almost eerie, for they were going really fast now, there should be a sound!

Prince George was almost ecstatic, was he one of those men who needed to do dangerous things every so often, only barred from actually doing them because he was heir to the throne? He didn't look especially reckless, he was not athletic at all. Nick was a more likely candidate for that, though he seemed rather aware of risks. They did have their need for romantic adventures in common, at least they used to have. Well, Frederick didn't wonder whether Nick would like doing this, he would. Probably from the box.

And then it was over, the rattling sound returned then slowed down, until they were back to a calm trot and then a walk.

'Thank you so much for taking me along, Mr Darcy,' Prince George exclaimed, he was indeed thrilled. 'That was great fun!' he added, almost to himself.

'I didn't know horses could run that fast, Darcy,' Frederick commented.

'They cannot keep it up for long,' his friend admitted, 'not this all-out run. In a trot they last longer than an ordinary team and they are quite a bit faster.'

With the spectacular bit of the trip over they soon turned back towards home, though through different villages to make the trip more interesting, as Darcy said. Frederick had to admit he hadn't seen a single view or village on the trip over, their conversation had been that intense. But he did not regret talking of music and horses and other less shocking things on the way back, the prince's frankness had rattled him more than he liked to admit, and he felt rather sorry for the man, but also for his poor wife, who had been at the mercy of her parents all her youth, then married off to her cousin without having a say in it, and now she was undoubtedly a prisoner in a rich house while her husband lived with his one mistress, had several others at his beck and call, and still felt free to make eyes at other men's wives. Like Frederick's own, although by now Frederick knew the prince was not the kind to force women into his bed. Apparently there were plenty who'd have him of their own free will. Maybe Princess Caroline would have done better to not have protested her fate by refusing to wash and showing herself off as an ignorant peasant girl. Maybe she would have liked her husband better if he had made an effort to please her, though he would always keep his roving eye.

'Are you happy?' Georgiana asked Eric. They were pausing their practice for half an hour and Georgiana felt it was time to ask him that question, she thought he might miss having an audience. If Eric didn't enjoy the rather monotonous life of a gentleman they could return to London after the family visit and pick up their more exciting habits of performances and lessons.

'I'm the happiest man in the world, my love. Doesn't it show?'

Well, it did, but that was not the point.

'I'm sorry, my love, I was just teasing you. I know what you mean, I love you, I'm incredibly happy to be married to you and to be with you, and to have time and most importantly peace and quiet to compose instead of having to dodge admirers and reporters. I've enjoyed my time in the country so far, learning to ride and shoot, exploring a beautiful landscape and interesting villages. But I'm afraid living like this a whole summer will be rather boring for both of us. Seeing the prince all taken in by my music I do miss my audiences, our friends, our lessons. Don't you?'

Georgiana couldn't help feeling the same way. She had never minded being at Pemberley before, she had always been content with her piano and her brother's company, even if that was usually paid for by Miss Bingley being present as well.

'I do, my love. I never used to mind spending summer here, but now, the memory of London with all its pleasures makes me long to be back there. And our new connection to Prince George could make life in London even more exciting. Somehow I'd feel cheated if we spent a boring summer at Pemberley then went straight to the continent, never making use of our new contact until our return after a year or maybe even two: by then he'll most likely have a new favourite and our chance will have passed. Better spend the summer in the prince's company a few times every week while we still can, then go to the continent from there.'

Eric nodded, he clearly felt the same way.

'I knew you were used to spending summer here, I was afraid to spoil your pleasure, but it seems we're of the same opinion. And dear Georgiana, I am very worried about Prince George's remarks on war in the Lower Countries. I really do hope we can convince him to tell us as much as he is allowed to, I'm not that set on going to Vienna anymore, not if it endangers all of us, Mr Clementi can help me for some time yet and you heard the prince assure us he'd be able to get my work accompanied by an orchestra. I think I'd rather stay put and make some money to add to yours to invest in our future. Maybe have a few children, in a few years? And visit my parents, if you don't mind.'

'You want to visit your parents? You never talked about them before. But of course we'll visit if you want to. Do you know an address? You were quite young when you left, weren't you?'

'I think Mr Zumpe knows, and he'll tell me. And if he refuses or doesn't remember himself, I'm pretty certain Frederick will know what to do.'

That was certainly true. And since only one of them still had parents to visit they surely should. Georgiana remembered her mother with the most grief, although she had been only seven when she passed away. But they had been very close, whereas her father had usually been away from home or busy with Fitzwilliam. And besides, Fitzwilliam had spent as much time with his little sister as he could, in some way he had always been more like a father to her than a brother. As George Wickham had been her brother, somehow his attempt to elope with her had become less important over time, and his kindness to her in those difficult years after her mother passed away more so, she hardly reproached him his selfishness anymore, and she would not be very disappointed if he did turn out to be her half brother. She had loved him her entire youth, and never hated him, though of course what he had done to her and to Lydia was despicable.

'You'd better write to Mr Zumpe then, for to return to London first and then drive back north would be a waste of time. We could easily visit from here, I suppose it must be closer to your parents and we can borrow Bob and the thoroughbreds.'

'True. I'll write him then. I suppose I shouldn't mention the prince visiting to hear my music?'

'I guess not, though it's a bit of a shame, he'd be so proud of you.'

'If I tell him I have learned to ride and shoot he will be very pleased already. And that we have brought his wedding gift along. And remember, he has sold a very expensive instrument to the prince as well, through Mr Clementi but on our recommendation.'

'I forgot, but he won't,' Georgiana observed, laughing. That would make Mr Zumpe happier than any honour befalling his adopted son, he was a tradesman first of all and he had a family and dependants to keep after all.

'You really don't mind going back to London?' he asked, and Georgiana could wholeheartedly reply, 'Not in the least. I think we should try to visit your parents first and it may take a few weeks to find out where they live. Do you know the name of a village? Some are so small you may be able to find their house once you're there.'

'If they still live in the same place. I suppose I'll write Mr Zumpe and ask, I was still so small when I left and with my mind stuffed full of music. Already. Shall we talk to your brother and Elizabeth tonight? I'm sure they'll understand.'

'I think Frederick will be more disappointed, though I suppose he will also understand. Now Fitzwilliam said we'd better bring the Zumpe back upstairs, since aunt Catherine is on her way and we don't want to be practising in her presence. Shall we ask Nick and Frederick to lift it for us? We'll spend a lot more time together in our headquarters once she arrives, I'm looking forward to being amongst ourselves once more, where our friends can be themselves.'

Eric nodded, and they went off to find Nick and Anne to spend some time together.

During dinner they talked and laughed like intimate friends, Prince George seemingly no longer a stranger among them. But Anne knew that was just on the surface, Frederick at least would never be less than wary with the snoopy prince trying to get to the bottom of his love-life. Prince George suspected Frederick of having a roving eye, like the prince himself, though it should be obvious he had not the slightest interest in Elizabeth or Georgiana, he'd have to prefer a totally different kind of women, maybe common women, servants or even cheap women. Anne knew Frederick had often hired the latter to entertain his clique of college friends, and he had used them as a sort of cover towards his own staff. His driver would swear to his master preferring them and compared to Darcy's staff Bates was rather talkative, if Prince George had thought to ask him he'd have plenty of reason to worry about Anne. Well, better that than the truth, there was nothing he could do about it anyhow, Anne and Frederick were lawfully married and not even a prince could change that. If he had that power and rumour was to be believed, he'd annul his own marriage first.

Still, Darcy seemed to have let go of his reticence towards Prince George, apparently bragging with one's enviable team made a man more forthcoming towards the suitably impressed other party. For it was more than obvious the prince had indeed been impressed by his ride behind four thoroughbreds going at full speed. She'd just not thought Darcy was that easily won.

After dinner they all gathered in the explorer's headquarters on the second floor for Prince George to show them exactly where the French were making things difficult for innocent travellers, most importantly those from Britain.

'And of good birth. Our class isn't particularly popular in the Republic, and everyone would know your status immediately. Even if merely being abroad didn't give it away with travel to the continent being rather expensive, your refined manners would. I know of at least one English gentleman having had to flee France, leaving behind his French wife and child.'

They were all crowded around the large table, Prince George and an array of maps the centre of attention, Elizabeth and even Darcy also present, hanging on his lips. The soft and spoiled ladies' man had made way for the heir to the throne for an hour or so, and inspired quite a lot of respect in Anne at least. Still, she'd not let herself be taken in, she was convinced this was not the real Prince George, he was making the most of an interesting situation, he was acting the wise ruler to impress them. Maybe just to impress her, though her vanity didn't really suffice to actually believe that herself.

Pointing out the Lower Countries, the prince observed, 'We fought a heated battle here just last year, in alliance with the Russians. It did not end well for our side, we had to retreat after suffering significant losses. I would not recommend sailing to any port there while the Batavian Republic is still under French vassalship. Too bad, since there are some really lovely galleries there. I have some superb works from their best painters, magnificent talents.'

So the Lower Countries were out, as was France itself. Too bad, Anne would have loved to see Paris.

The prince now tried to lay out three maps in such a way that they matched up to form one large map of the German empire, and though the scales didn't quite match his efforts gave a reasonable overview of the states involved. There was Hanover, a small country in the northern part which was part of the British Empire. And Mecklenburg, which was where Queen Charlotte was originally from.

'I'd advise you to take a ship to Bremen, it is a strong and safe independent city with a beautiful harbour, and close to Hanover, where my connections will be pleased to receive you. Then travel south, avoiding the smaller states as much as possible since their dukes and kinglets are generally not very trustworthy. And I'd take the Eastern route to Vienna, for Switzerland was overrun by the French last year. But mostly I would advise you to desist. The situation in France is much more serious than people here realise, they have taken a large part of Germany, the Holy Roman Empire is weak and the German states are too small and divided to defend themselves against the masses of the Revolution. The French army is modern and their officers are not men of blood, but men of talent, the best rise in the ranks. Which means they have more officers than we do and generally better ones. Do you know anything about our army?'

Darcy observed, 'Our cousin is a colonel and our brother-in-law, Elizabeth's younger sister's husband, has been selected for the Rifle Corps. They have both told us some, but not enough to know what we are up against.'

'The Rifle Corps? That is a signal honour, though very dangerous. It's a desperate attempt to stop the slaughter of our troops whenever we meet the French skirmishers, they do not keep a formation but attack wherever it hurts the most, in small groups of highly trained soldiers. Like the French skirmishers, The Rifle Corps takes only those that can shoot well and think for themselves in the heat of battle. Your relative will be in grave danger and sooner than you think, but he will save hundreds of our troops each time he sees action. Is your brother an officer, Mrs Darcy?'

'A lieutenant, Your Highness.'

'That's a little safer but not much. Still, they do select only the best for the Rifles, I've heard their rifles are as good or better than what we use ourselves. And so they should be, since deer and grouse generally don't return fire.'

Frederick laughed and retorted, 'I do prefer to hit my mark on the first aim when hunting boar.'

Anne was a little shocked by their callousness towards the men who were risking their lives far away from home to defend their King and country, though in a way she didn't care that much about George Wickham either. She only remembered him as a boy, when he had been kind to her the few times they'd met. She thought she'd like to see him again, just to see how he'd grown up and what all the fuss was about, especially since Elizabeth had apparently quite liked him at one time.

In general, though, what the prince told them was not very heartening. If they wanted to avoid all risk of coming near a scene of strive they needed to travel a lot more to the east than they had been planning, Switzerland and Italy were out of bounds altogether, and even the Danube was no longer entirely safe with the French having access to its higher reaches: they could easily send troops down into Austria, and whilst Vienna would be relatively safe, the country being involved in a war would make the populace less inclined to think of music.

Looking at the faces around her she could see Darcy and Elizabeth worried, of course they were, with their relatives and friends planning to do what might turn out to be a rather foolish thing. Eric and Georgiana were less disappointed than she expected, they had counted on hearing bad news, maybe the prince had warned them earlier. Of course he had presented a very tempting alternative already. Nick, who was present at Frederick's request since, 'A guard needed to know what he was up against before agreeing to take the job,' didn't look very impressed at all, he probably didn't mind where they stayed as long as he got to be with Anne at night and maybe a part of the day. They'd had such a good time that afternoon, he was so sweet and so... manly.

The only ones showing the slightest sign of regret were Frederick and Simon, they had wanted to go on a Grand Tour to be together as two gentlemen instead of as master and servant. Well, they could always dress like common tradesmen and take a trip north, no-one would wonder who they were then. Men travelled together all the time, even shared rooms to save money, only the well-known Mr Manners would attract attention and only close to London. If he went to Newcastle, to the guesthouse where Elizabeth and Darcy had been staying earlier in the year, not a single question would be raised about the identity of two befriended merchants. People like mother didn't use an equipage because they actually needed all those attendants, they went accompanied by a bevy of liveried servants to make sure everyone knew who they were. It was much easier to do the opposite and disappear for a few weeks.

After about twenty minutes of last year's battles of the Russian, Austrian and British alliance against France, Anne could no longer keep up with the names of German cities, city states, rivers, mountains and local kinglets, nor with the Swiss, Italian and other equivalents. Frederick, Eric and surprisingly, Nick, were still listening as if they knew what Prince George was talking about, and Darcy was making as impressive an effort. The rest were obviously trying to come to terms with the knowledge that France was a lot more dangerous than they had been led to believe. Prince George feared they might even threaten Britain itself.

'Our navy cannot be rivalled. Still, if the French gain too many new colonies they will soon be unstoppable, even at sea. France is a huge country, and though they say its people have taken the power, in fact a few very ambitious men are in control. Ambitious but also competent, which its kings never used to be. They have all the officers they need since, again, they only look at competence, not birth. And no insubordinate rabble as privates either, but every younger son out to improve his country and his own life by bringing the illusion of freedom to ever more people. Our army will have to change, too, or we will surely perish.'

'How do you know all this, Your Highness, and why don't we?' Anne asked, expecting to get a vague reply.

'I can see you thinking, Mrs Manners, the Prince of Wales, that fat man who squanders our taxes on Madeira wine, married women and Dutch masters? How can he know what we don't? If it's so serious why doesn't he do something? I'll tell you. A friend of mine is very active in Parliament, and he insists on keeping me informed. I do not always agree with his views, for instance, he sympathises with the Revolution, which I think is destined to bring great harm to the continent and maybe even Britain. Did you know there has been an attempted landing of the French in Ireland, to gain a foothold there? This Napoleon and others like him are not merely trying to stabilise a country in turmoil, they are out for conquest and it will be our task as the most powerful nation in the world to stop them. But I do acknowledge that the common people are much more capable than most of our class give them credit for, as we will all find out when they make France more powerful than it has ever been. This friend of mine tells me what he is supposed to know as a member of Parliament. But I have no power to act, nor does my father allow me to influence him. I merely keep informed and hope the King will protect this country and the colonies depending on us. Currently his prime minister seems more bent on subjecting Ireland, but maybe he knows even more than I do.

I'm afraid it's not in the interest of those who rule us to let the people know everything that is going on, which may be why my friend Fox is so adamant that liberation of the people is a good thing that will make our world a better place eventually. I doubt that. I think most people are dumb in whichever layer of the populace, but what can a single man do about that, besides making the most of the life he is granted?'

This apparently was quite a sore point for the prince, and Anne was not going to rile him up by suggesting he was really close to a position where he could indeed make a difference. Instead she thanked him for his reply to the questions she had actually asked him.

'I think I understand, Your Highness. Though I cannot fault the people of France for taking charge of their own lives if their king was as bad as the papers say, but still I prefer things remain as they are in England, and that is not just because I prefer my head attached to my body. I suppose there is much we can do to improve things for our people so they don't need to revolt. I intend to take good care of my tenants once I inherit Rosings, and as I said earlier, I intend to give them a lot more freedom than my mother does now. But I suppose most need some direction, to take good care of the land and their houses, and save up for when they are old or to give their children a good start in life.'

'Your wisdom puts me to shame, Mrs Manners,' the prince said in a perfectly serious voice, but still Anne suspected he was either having her on or flattering her.

'I so want this Gothic conservatory, and I really cannot resist my wine, my chocolate and the occasional Vermeer, but I suppose I should be much more sensible myself.'

Still Anne could not see or hear whether he was serious or making fun of her. Fortunately, Frederick came to her rescue by addressing Nick.

'As born Londoner what do you think, Nick? Do you think there is any danger of a revolution in England?'

Nick was utterly surprised, since riding himself into the picture more or less accidentally he was planning to keep a very low profile, and only Frederick's insistence had practically forced him to be present here tonight. He did take the time to think, then carefully framed a respectful reply.

'I'd say not, Mr Manners, most people I know are pretty satisfied with their lives. But of course as a servant in a great house even I live a privileged life with a solid roof over my head and plenty to eat. I know no truly poor people, my parents have their own tiny house which my siblings and I pay for, they did indeed work hard to save up and give us a good start, and now their care is paying off. But we are all in good health, and have a good position, I cannot imagine that is so for all the good people in London. Still, to incite a whole people I suppose the majority must be dissatisfied and I think if that were so I'd have seen signs, especially in town. So I guess your head is perfectly safe where it is, Mrs Manners.'

Nick sounded so incredibly respectful towards Anne that no-one would guess they were lovers. Simon had told Nick that Prince George was convinced they were, but after this he would start to doubt. Anne doubted herself that this was the same man who'd lain in her arms a few hours ago, after loving her so passionately that Anne would have married him instantly if she hadn't already been married to Frederick.

'I'm glad to hear it, Nick. And I'm also very glad you are taking our coming trip seriously, since you will be our last defence against any threats.'

'Thank you, Mrs Manners, I'm determined to do my job well.'

She nodded at her most condescending, let the prince make something of that.

They talked of the French and the continent for as much as another hour, then enjoyed another hour of melancholy music in the drawing-room, during which Prince George again spent most of his time by Anne's side. When it was finally time to seek out their bedrooms for the night she was tired of being on her guard all the time, and she felt a bit sorry for that. She really liked Prince George and would have loved to talk with him freely, he was obviously very well informed and had much to tell anyone. She wished he could just accept the situation as it was and enjoy their company instead of putting them on the defensive with his prying.

On Monday, Simon was almost pleased to attend to Prince George after having assisted Frederick with his dressing. On Saturday evening the prince had been rather quiet, he'd merely excused himself for letting Mr Fielding's music touch him again and told Simon again how much he liked Mrs Manners and how he hoped she'd have a chance of some happiness. Since Simon had had his say on that subject and wasn't going to admonish the man who would one day be his king, he merely mumbled the appropriate acknowledgements without actually saying anything.

On Sunday morning, Simon had been in a hurry to attend to his own master and the prince before it was time to go to church, and the prince hadn't even tried to engage his borrowed valet in serious conversation. And then after church, which comprised of a really subtle sermon by Mr Eliot on the subject of letting others be, and some surprisingly good singing, Simon almost started to think Prince George had actually taken Mr Eliot's message to heart. He still couldn't believe Mr Darcy had actually done it, asked Mr Eliot to address the constant gossiping among the staff. Except it probably wasn't just the staff showing its worst side with the Prince of Wales honouring their master with a visit, gossiping was inherent to human nature and people in a village did their share of it. There was every reason to admonish them to remember the golden rule to 'do unto others', for who liked to be the victim of tales? Simon did think the message might have been a little too subtle for most of the people present, though Mr Eliot had described gossip well without actually using the word or pointing a finger at those who most often indulged in the spreading of tales.

Anyway, the sermon had been talked over at dinner in the servants' quarters, and Simon hoped in most local households as well. But he seriously doubted that someone like Pauline would have understood how the sermon concerned her, if not for Mrs Reynolds. He really had to credit the housekeeper with that, she often used dinner to explain serious issues in words even the thickest of the servants could understand.

And with Prince George refraining from further inquiry into his master and mistress' private life the whole Sunday, Simon hoped he'd taken the message to heart and would stick to it. That he had understood was more than clear, for not only was Prince George possibly the smartest person Simon knew, he had told Simon himself that if Mr Eliot was a fair representative of the British clergy, he was proud of their level of education and looked forward to becoming their head some day. Of course they both doubted that all clergymen were of Mr Eliot's level, but neither spoke his mind, for that would have cast a blemish on their spotless behaviour that day. Simon had merely expressed his own appreciation of the kind and upright minister, then tried to convince the prince that pantaloons were the future and breeches very definitely a thing of the past and to try one while he was still Mr Chester to the locals. For no-one had addressed him as anything but a visiting gentleman, though Mr Darcy received so much respect from his tenants that he might as well be a prince himself in how respectfully they treated him to his face, and hopefully among themselves as well.

So, after a quiet Sunday, Simon entered the prince's bedroom in an excellent humour, and found himself welcomed as heartily as before. The prince was still in bed, but he had opened his own curtains and poked up his fire, the latter of which he seemed to have done creditably since the room was warm but not sweltering.

'Simon, there you are! Just in time for another glorious day filled with music. I've taken the liberty of opening the curtains myself since I expected this to be a magnificent day. And I was right, just look at that lovely spring sky. I swear, Simon, I've never had a Sunday like yesterday, filled with the most beautiful music a man can be privileged to hear but only after attending an edifying religious service, which added a certain sense of righteousness to the whole day.'

Well, apparently that was as far as religion influenced Prince George's behaviour, to make him feel righteous a whole day, then revert to his usual self on Monday.

'I'm glad you weren't bored, Your Highness, Sundays in the country can be long and very dull to an active mind.'

'Sundays in town no less, my dear man, the things I have suffered before coming of age, the endless monotony of sitting with my parents in my best clothes, waiting for the day to creep by. First the sermon, in view of everybody who mattered anything, and then at home with my brothers and sisters. How were your Sundays when you were a boy?'

'I was fortunate, my parents were members of a church where children attended a different service from the adults, we were taught religion but in child-sized portions, and we were taught religious music, and might even play quiet games the minister thought suitable for learning to relate to other children.'

'That is quite extraordinary!'

'It was, I almost liked Sunday until I entered my first service, where religious observance became another duty instead of a privilege.'

'Do you have many siblings?'

'I have four sisters and a much older brother.'

'Could you play with your brother despite the difference in age? My brothers and I were always horsing around and testing each other, whenever we were allowed to, which was more often than you might expect from a couple of princes.'

Simon really had to remind himself to be on his guard, this was approaching dangerous grounds, the affable prince was back, gaining information where one didn't mean to give any.

'I did horse around with my brother, though of course he was much stronger than I and I never had a chance to prevail. But it prepared me for life outside, for though my sisters rather spoiled me at home, London children play on the streets more often than not. I've had to fight to prove my mettle, we were all a rough lot by necessity but it was hardest for me. When you grow up looking like a little angel, complete with blond curls, you have a lot to prove to the neighbourhood bullies.'

'You had blond curls as a child?'

'As a little boy, yes, but also when I was thirteen, fourteen. And I was even more slender than I am now.'

'You must have been as beautiful as a girl. I can see how that would cause problems.'

He had no idea. To be considered unmanly and knowing he actually was what they accused him of. Few boys had fought as determinedly as Simon had to prove himself to himself, often as not losing and getting beaten black and blue as a result. Still it had gained him respect and even protection from older boys who appreciated his efforts. Until he discovered that women found him irresistible and he didn't need to fight anymore since he could use his influence with women to gain the respect of his peers.

'One day I was fed up with being twitted over my looks and I had one of my sisters shave my head. It grew back in darker and a little more straight. I've kept it short ever since.'

'So you might still have blond curly hair if it were longer?'

What did the prince care? He was a ladies' man, wasn't he?

'Yes, Your Highness, I suppose I would. But a valet should not care about his own appearance overmuch.'

That dry statement caused Prince George to laugh heartily.

'Oh, Simon, go fool someone else. I've never met a valet who wasn't vain as a peacock. You hide it better than most, but then you are much better endowed than most, you don't need much adornment. Still, look at your clothes, tell me you didn't have them made to size.'

Simon bowed his head, he was vain, he had to admit it.

'I did. It looks ever so much better that way.'

'And it's subtle, it's a livery and yet it is not. As if you are not to be marked a servant. Why, Simon? And why not grow your hair?'

'My master likes to keep ahead of things, and all servants talk. We're his eyes and ears behind the scenes. The way I look now people hardly notice me, though it works even better for Nick. I'm too handsome, women tend to check me out. If I grew my hair they'd stop and stare. So I keep it shorter than I might like.'

Prince George nodded, he accepted this. By now he was washed, shaved and dressed and Simon had no reason to stay, so he started to clear up after himself as he usually did just before he left.

'Simon,' said Prince George, and Simon turned around to hear what he had to say.

'Have you ever kissed a man?'

Somehow, Simon expected this question, there had been a certain look in the prince's eye. He was curious, he loved beautiful things, and though not a thing, Simon knew he was beautiful.

'I have, Your Highness.'

'How was it, compared to a woman?'

'Very exciting. Even the most eager woman is careful. A man is not.'

Which was not true, Frederick was much more tender than any woman Simon had had, but that was none of the prince's business. Let him think a man would totally overwhelm him.

'That is exactly as I'd describe it. I was just wondering whether you had tried.'

'So you have?'

'Certainly. It's more common than you might think, though no-one will admit it. I blame school, having lived exclusively among men for years some just don't know what to do with a woman anymore, though most learn eventually. I was merely curious, and I admit, drunk, and he was so incredibly beautiful and quite willing. He'd never had the slightest interest in women he told me, I hope he didn't tell anyone else. Poor chap. Just be glad you were raised with four sisters, it saves a man a world of trouble.'

Simon had always been glad to have four sisters, but not because they saved him from being attracted to men. Strangely enough he knew exactly how to relate to women, he just couldn't feel physical attraction for them, not enough to form a lasting bond. But he was glad to make a joke out of it.

'I know you have sisters yourself, Your Highness, so you must know how much trouble sisters are. Though I suppose you were raised with them, in my case it was more like being raised by them. My mother was happy enough to let them take care of me, she had plenty of work to do.'

'I only met my sisters at mealtimes, and later during the holidays at mealtimes. We barely know each other.'

'That is very sad, Your Highness. I've actually never worked in a household where there were several young children, I suppose they are mostly under the care of a maid or a nurse, very different from when I was a boy.'

'Do you see yourself as anything else than a valet, Simon?'

'I'm very good at it, Your Highness, I couldn't think of anything else I might do that would allow me to make a comfortable living.'

'But isn't it demeaning and rather boring to wait upon someone day in, day out, without a day off? You have a true talent for dress, you have me ready to try a pair of pantaloons, and those black cravats are such a unique touch. And your uniform is a marvel. I'd hire you to bring my wardrobe up to date, the way we dress at court, even mine, is a disgrace. What use is applying the most modern standards to one's home, then walking around in it dressed as our grandparents did?'

'If you put it that way, I see what you mean. I think I'd like that, enable men to dress much better. Women, too. I'll consider it, for indeed the idea of still serving as a valet ten years from now does seem a little, well, dull.'

And with Frederick's five thousand Simon could easily start his own business in ready-mades. 'Close to fashion', if one pronounced it right it was even funny.

'I can see you like the thought of that. Well, keep it in mind, I'll have plenty of work before me if I want to introduce modern dress at court, it'll take a few years and I'm afraid I won't even profit, I keep gaining weight. And that reminds me of breakfast, I hope we'll get some of Mrs Brewer's pie again. Maybe I should move my court to Mr Darcy's garden, to be near Mrs Brewer's kitchen. Thank you very much for your help, I suppose I'm staying in this morning to enjoy as much of Mr Fielding's talent as I can, which means I won't need to change until dinner. So I hope to see you tonight, to help me make ready for another evening of delightful conversation. I think I've found a way to make sure that Mrs Manners will always be as happy as she is now, I'll tell you all about it then.'

And here Simon thought he'd gotten away easily.


	146. Chapter 146

Chapter 156

Elizabeth had been very excited all morning, for after breakfast she would accompany Fitzwilliam and Frederick on a real fox hunt. Of course the hunt master would be there with the pack, but of the others only Nick had dared accept the invitation to join them, and only at Frederick's insistence that he would not be in their way. Frederick had asked Fitzwilliam whether it was acceptable to take Nick along, and her beloved had merely replied dryly, 'If you think Anne won't come to harm without her guard, it's fine by me. I'm not going to risk Elizabeth's neck too much in her first real hunt, so I suppose Nick can handle the speed and the jumps.'

Anne, Simon and Prince George would not be joining them, Prince George professed he preferred to listen to Eric as often as possible while he still could, but Elizabeth also guessed he probably couldn't handle going cross country and jumping, he was not in good shape and his horse would be sorely pressed to keep up with a bunch of hunters. Anne and Simon were still too inexperienced to partake safely, though Anne could probably have managed she'd said, 'I'm not going to run the risk of being a burden to you because my horse is not fast enough, and I wouldn't dare ride a borrowed hunter for the first time in a serious hunt. I'll stay at home and entertain our guest. Please take care of Nick, I worry he may be too self-assured and hurt himself and your hunter, Frederick.'

By then, the prince had already left the breakfast parlour with Georgiana and Eric, of all those assembled here they were most at ease with their guest, probably because they shared a love of music, giving them something relatively innocuous to talk about without fail. If they had time for talk, because music was a demanding mistress to Georgiana and Eric.

So now they were once again gathered by the stables, horses saddled and ready, Nick visibly eager to try Frederick's calmest hunter. Well, he was used to Liquor, this tall bay couldn't be much more difficult to handle than Nick's own black. Elizabeth doubted that the bay would perform better than Liquor, what he might lack in stamina and speed he made up for in determination, but of course a fox hunt wasn't just about performance, there was a certain atmosphere to it as well. The hounds were out and baying nervously, and even Barley was fidgeting, he wasn't used to being surrounded by deep-voiced predators, even if their attention was not on him but on Mr Oliver, the Pemberley hunt master.

'We will be riding three miles east towards the Lower Burton area, then let the hounds seek the trail of this fox we're supposed to do away with. It's a canny old creature and the villagers have begged me to do something about it, it's killing hens at the rate of one coop every other night, for more than two weeks now. The good people of Burton will soon have to do without eggs if this pillaging continues.

Mrs Darcy, Fowler, welcome in our midst, please remember, let the hounds do their job, and if they bring the fox to bay please do not get in the way of the gentlemen's guns. This creature really needs to die or we'll have a bunch of unhappy villagers on our hands.'

Nick and Elizabeth were not allowed a gun this first hunt, they were supposed to concentrate on staying in the saddle and keeping up. Carrying a loaded rifle was considered too dangerous on a man's first half dozen hunts, and with the noise and Barley's rising skittishness Elizabeth understood very well.

Nick nodded and said, 'I understand,' after which Elizabeth realised the hunt master wanted a spoken confirmation from her, too. Apparently he was like a captain on a ship, the ultimate authority whilst guiding them through a safe hunt. He knew every ditch and bush on his master's territory, and possibly all the foxes' lairs and badgers' dens in the area as well.

'I will keep a respectable distance, Mr Oliver,' Elizabeth promised.

Then they all mounted and with a signal to the hounds they were off. Fitzwilliam had a pack of seven hounds, which Elizabeth supposed was a small one, but still they took a lot of the hunt master and stable staff's time to take care of. They needed a lot of exercise, and they made a real mess of their kennels which someone had to clean up every day. Elizabeth wondered whether Fitzwilliam kept them for his pleasure or to do his duty to his tenants, she supposed they were the only effective means to keep the population of foxes and other pests under regulation.

Starting out at a walk, Elizabeth was impressed how well Mr Oliver controlled those fierce hounds, they stuck together in a close pack and though they obviously detected all kinds of interesting scents in the air about them they never strayed. Once across the river, Mr Oliver increased their speed to a quick trot, and the hounds fell into an efficient lope that they could keep up for days, according to Fitzwilliam, who had of course explained the most important facts about hunting foxes.

Chatting was virtually impossible at the pace they were keeping, giving Elizabeth ample time to relish the whole experience. Barley wasn't less eager, this was what he had been bred for, and he could keep up this pace as long as the dogs would, and long after the other horses needed to be rested.

Fitzwilliam and Frederick were happy to be back on a hunter, that was easy to see, and Nick showed not a single sign of fear or having trouble handling his horse. It seemed Elizabeth was right, this hunter was actually easier to guide than Liquor, and he wasn't the least bit skittish of the dogs. Nick's expression was one of ecstasy, he had really taken to country living above her expectation, she would have expected him to be bored without a real job to do and without the bustling city a door away, but nothing was less true.

After about ten minutes the village came into view, and Mr Oliver blew the horn. The hounds spread out, obviously looking for a trail or a scent. They slowed to a walk but didn't halt the horses, they'd get stiff and cold if they couldn't move about just a little. Elizabeth did not relax, any moment now a hound could find a trail or even the fox itself and then the real hunt would start, straight across the land, over hedges and ditches, across the stream and any other obstacle in their way. Mr Oliver would lead the horses where he knew they would not come to harm, a huge responsibility but one he could handle very well.

And indeed, after five minutes of frantic sniffing by the hounds, one bayed and started on a trail, the others following. Mr Oliver blew another note of command, to his human hunters this time, and they followed him single file, Frederick in front, Elizabeth and Nick following, Fitzwilliam in the rear.

The hounds were still merely following a scent, and for five minutes a walk was fast enough to keep up with them while they worked out the different trails undoubtedly criss-crossing the field before them, only discernible to their sensitive noses, picking out the one their master wanted them to follow. Then a flash of red ahead of them and they were off, Elizabeth ready to follow but trying to keep a sensible distance between herself and Frederick to make the inevitable jumps a little safer. She preferred Barley seeing what was in front of them as well as the ground underneath his feet, though he seemed very smart in somehow feeling his way across even the worst terrain, apparently sure-footedness was an important trait of Arabian horses.

Soon Elizabeth saw their first jump approaching, a low wall with a higher hedge on both sides, and she adjusted her seat and posture, Barley needing no encouragement to take the jump. She no longer looked for the hounds, she just kept her eye on Frederick, understanding ever better why the hunt master was in charge: this was hard work, keeping up with the hounds through this rough terrain!

In quick succession they took five more obstacles, including a very frightening one, a scramble up a bank of some kind and then a jump across a broad ditch hidden behind it with a little stream running at the bottom. Elizabeth swallowed hard but Barley never hesitated and jumped clean across the ditch before she could even think of pushing him. They were speeding up again already, she didn't even have time to wonder whether Nick and Fitzwilliam behind her were doing well. On and on and on, she lost a few pins and felt a large strand of hair coming loose from the solid whole, but she ignored the feeling and checked the ground beneath Barley's feet and the hedge coming on fast. Up and over, and on towards the next, not faster, but not a whit slower either.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. Barley came to a halt next to Frederick's horse, breathing fast. Elizabeth looked up and saw the hounds milling about a little wilderness next to a larger stream.

'They've lost the scent,' Frederick said, 'that fox is a wily one, some know a lot of tricks to get rid of a pack on their tail.'

The hounds ranged further now, some crossed the stream to search the opposite bank, but nothing could be found. Nick and Fitzwilliam had joined their group but there was no chance to speak, if a hound picked up the scent they needed to be ready to follow.

But after another ten minutes, still nothing was found, and Mr Oliver turned towards Fitzwilliam.

'I'm afraid they've lost him altogether, Mr Darcy. Do you want to have a look at his lair? He is probably back there by now, I'm afraid this will come to digging after all.'

'If he has gone to ground the hounds will never find him, Oliver. I think our novices have had enough excitement for one day, it's time to turn back. Or do you want to see the fox's den, Elizabeth?'

Actually, she wanted to, if it wasn't too far.

And so they went for another short ride, explored a stretch of wood where the old fox had its lair, the hounds indeed picking up its trail but straight into the mound where the wily old creature was undoubtedly laughing at their puny efforts to catch him.

They returned a little more slowly, and over the road instead of across the fields, Frederick and Fitzwilliam discussing how that lair would need to be dug out entirely to prevent a fox from ever making a home of it again.

'I'm afraid I cannot be sorry it got away, Mrs Darcy,' Nick observed calmly from beside her.

'I loved the chase and the jumps, this horse is a magnificent creature and an honour to be allowed to ride, but I'm kind of glad I didn't get to see those hounds ripping that poor fox to pieces. It's only trying to make a living after all. I know they kill a lot of fowl and probably rabbits and other small things, but I respect it for fooling seven hounds and a very capable hunt master.'

And he turned around and pretended to salute the forested mound behind them, looking at her in a sort of challenge to rebuke him for siding with vermin. He wouldn't get what he expected, though.

'I suppose I have to agree with you, Nick. And when they dig it out I hope they will shoot it and have it over with quickly. But it sure was fun, I've never worked so hard in my life. That jump across the ditch, I thought my heart would stop.'

'My heart did stop for a moment or two, but the horse never hesitated and jumped as far as he could. I'm glad it wasn't Liquor, he would probably have refused and I couldn't have faulted him for that. That was dangerous. But incredible fun! I'm glad I could come, you're all so good to me, I can't believe I'm really living this, it's like a bizarre dream suddenly come true.'

And he meant it, but frankly, if she thought about it it was as unreal to her.

'I can imagine, Nick. I used to live a rather boring life, too, and look at me now. I married a man who actually lets me do these things.'

That reminded Elizabeth of her conviction that she was indeed with child, which meant she'd better enjoy these dangerous activities quickly, for the time would come all too soon that she couldn't risk them anymore. But undoubtedly there would be other challenges to take up, like learning to drive. At Pemberley, she need never be bored. If only Jane lived closer, enabling them to share the experience, everything would be perfect.

After a pleasant ride back, spent in conversation with all the others, they rode back into the stable area. Elizabeth was just thinking that she was actually quite glad to be back after such a strenuous ride, when she saw something that gave her a strong sense of deja vu, and not a pleasant one.

'Fitzwilliam!' she hissed between her teeth, 'look at that carriage, and the livery of the fellows pushing it into the large barn!'

He had already seen it, but instead of showing his consternation he imitated Frederick's college attitude by calling out to his friend.

'Manners! Do you see that? Better be on your best behaviour for your mother-in-law has arrived.'

'I'll be damned!' Frederick betrayed his surprise. 'I thought she was coming over next week! Anne is not going to like this, I take her protector once, just this once, and promptly her mother arrives.'

Anne? Whatever would Anne care whether Nick was there or not? This was Pemberley. She could just go upstairs to headquarters and her mother would never find her.

'Frederick, you're not usually thick,' Elizabeth blurted out, 'remember who is in our drawing-room as we speak? Anne is the least of our problems!'

By now they had been spotted by their staff, and the newcomers, and whereas Bob and Peter merely took their horses away to be relieved of their saddles and fed, Elizabeth and Nick found themselves approached by two men they knew from their visit to Hunsford and the scene with Lady Catherine at the parsonage.

'Fowler!' the younger one exclaimed, 'I was hoping to see you, you need to help me with Dora, I don't know what to say to her.'

Though Elizabeth felt herself growing all weak inside with this proof of young love, Nick was very embarrassed and quickly drew the young man away from the genteel folk, and stood talking to him with animation at a respectable distance. But the other man was on his way to greet her, of course very respectfully.

'Mrs Darcy, such a pleasure to meet you again, and on your beautiful estate. Please forgive Frank his outburst, ever since I contrived to take him here he has been all over the place with excitement.'

'Never mind, Hughes, he couldn't have known we'd taken Nick out on a hunt, and Nick solved it readily. We didn't expect you for at least two more days, I suppose we need to hurry inside to pay our respects to your mistress.'

'Not just the mistress, Mrs Darcy, I've come to warn you, she actually thought to do you a favour by bringing your relative, Mr Collins. Just so you know he's here, too.'

No! No, that couldn't be! Mr Collins? With the Prince of Wales staying here? And Fitzwilliam having forbidden him his house? What could they do?

'When did you arrive, Hughes?'

Please let it be moments ago, but that couldn't be, not with the carriage being put away, that had to have taken at least an hour since it had obviously been cleaned.

'About three quarters of an hour, my lady. But the mistress was very handsomely received by a gracious woman who I suppose is your housekeeper, an immaculate young man that looked suspiciously like Mr Darcy's valet Simon but dressed very smartly, and most importantly, a young lady I cannot remember I have ever seen. Tall, blonde, blue dress, not more than twenty years of age and very beautiful. There was a gentleman, too, very handsome but the young lady did the talking.'

'Georgiana and Eric? And Simon? I suppose everything must be well in hand then. Thank you, Hughes, I'm looking forward to meeting you again during your visit, I'm very curious how my cousin is faring, and maybe you know something about my friend, Mrs Collins. But now I'm afraid we have to rush, I suppose I have to change as well.'

The tall man looked at her split skirts without being disrespectful or judgemental, just a passing glance at some curious garment.

'I can see why you might want to, Mrs Darcy, considering my mistress being rather old-fashioned. And I do know about your friend, I'll tell you about her whenever we have time. She and Mr Collins have become good friends with some of the staff. Good day!'

And he bowed respectfully, then sought out his colleagues. Elizabeth turned to the two men waiting for her.

'Frederick, Fitzwilliam, I really need to change before meeting Lady Catherine. I will see you in the drawing-room later.'

'I'll join you straight away, my love,' was Fitzwilliam's reply. 'I suppose half an hour's delay won't matter anymore.'

'Hughes told me your sister received her aunt very handsomely. We have time to change.'

'I'll be along later,' Frederick offered, 'I want to talk to Nick about Anne's safety and comfort with her mother in the house.'

He couldn't possibly suspect Anne of being in any danger at Pemberley, could he?

'Come, my love, let's get us some decent clothes. And maybe do something indecent before that, if we dare make my aunt wait.'

If he still felt like being intimate after hearing that her cousin was in the house.

Anne watched the hunting party leave, she probably worried for her beloved, riding one of those tall hunters for the first time. It was just incredible how Fitzwilliam accepted a lowborn servant as one of their own, or maybe he just bore with it admirably. But somehow Georgiana didn't think so, she thought her brother really had come to like the burly guard. He at the very least appreciated Nick's proficiency at everything remotely physical, not just unarmed fighting, riding and shooting but also billiards and most curiously, penmanship. Of all the explorers, Nick had turned out the neatest writer and something of a scholar. Frederick had suggested keeping a journal of their exploits, and Nick wrote most of the entries, including maps. They had meticulously recorded everything Prince George had told them about the situation on the continent, good for several pages of rather unwelcome information, since it spoiled most of their plans and made quite a number of their contacts totally useless. Mr Clementi had contacts all over the Lower Countries and of course in Italy, but apparently those would be in a war zone and too dangerous to use. Georgiana did wonder why those contacts hadn't mentioned the danger in their letters of welcome, which was one of their reasons to want to return to London, to talk to Mr Clementi and ask him how acute the danger was in his opinion. Prince George had his reasons to want to keep them in London, maybe his opinion shouldn't be taken all that seriously.

'Your Highness,' Eric said right next to her, and Georgiana could hear he was half in jest, half serious, 'you have told us you lacked the talent to become a pianist yourself. As a teacher, and I think a rather good one, will you do me the honour of letting me judge that for myself? With all those beautiful instruments in Carlton House you could have no problem spending half an hour each day amusing yourself with improving your skills.'

He was really starting to get familiar with his future ruler! But a look at Prince George merely showed him amused at Eric's apparent confidence.

'And I suppose you want to do that straight away, Mr Fielding? Where Mrs Manners can hear my bungling?'

'Mrs Manners couldn't play a single note when she first came to live with us, and I'm sure she won't mind letting you hear what she can play now, only a few months later.'

And indeed, Anne left the window and seated herself at the piano. She started with Eric's variegated scales, always good for a few gasps of admiration and not at all difficult to learn.

'I do feel obliged to warn you that Eric is a reputed taskmaster, Your Highness, and when he teaches he is the master and expects to be obeyed, rank doesn't mean a thing.'

Eric laughed at this description of himself, knowing it was true. But it did get results, and Georgiana agreed with him that learning to play himself would heighten the prince's already acute enjoyment of music. Handing Anne a sheet of music, Eric did not defend himself from the accusation but rather admitted to it.

'Anne is right, I do tend to take my music seriously, even when teaching. I've almost had words with Elizabeth over that, at a time when I still felt very impressed by her, not in the least because I was totally dependent on her husband for everything. She was a very negligent student, preferring to hear us play over practising.'

'I've heard Mrs Darcy play in my main music room, and she seemed in no way negligent, Mr Fielding.'

'I suppose that is why I dare call myself a good teacher. I prevailed. Without discord, merely kind insistence.'

'Mr Fielding, you are a treasure, and I will do as you propose. I want to learn those scales of yours at the very least.'

Anne now played the music Eric had given her, and it did sound very creditable, not yet Elizabeth's level, but Elizabeth had already known how to play before Eric started helping her to improve. Georgiana realised she was also curious what Prince George's level of proficiency was, and whether he really lacked talent or merely disliked applying himself. No teacher could have forced him to put in the hours of practice, except, of course, Eric. He didn't care a jot about his students' status, his own was so low that everyone outranked him, and yet all respected him because of his talent and his drive. Especially Prince George.

When Anne was finished, she made room at the keyboard with a flourish. Prince George applauded her and said charmingly, 'You've convinced me altogether, Mrs Manners. I'll take the chance of hearing I really am hopeless.'

No-one was hopeless where Eric was concerned. He had even managed to get Miss Mary Bennet back on the path to improvement, and she was as stubborn a student as one could get them, convinced of her own right without a single reason to be so.

Prince George did seat himself at the piano, and Eric joined him on the broad stool, as he always did with his students.

'I suppose you want me to play something?'

'If you please, Your Highness.'

The prince thought for a short time, then played a simple tune with an accompaniment, not at all bad actually since he did it by heart. Eric didn't have to ask him whether he read music sheets for they had shown him some before and he'd read them quickly enough, commenting on the violin part of Eric's concerto without having heard it played. He could not only read music, apparently he heard it as he read it, like Georgiana and Eric did. Which meant Eric would probably give him a sheet of music and ask him to play that, then correct his posture and his fingering, and do it again. It would take half an hour or an hour, and then he'd have to practise regularly.

An hour later, Anne was working on her little dress, and Prince George was still at the piano, pretty tired but rather pleased with himself.

'That's all I can do for you today, Your Highness,' Eric concluded the lesson. 'If I were your London master I'd expect you to practise at least an hour every day, then visit for your next lesson in five days or at most a week. You'd progress rapidly, really, I see no lack of talent in you. On the contrary, the way you picked up those variegated scales was encouraging.'

'I must say I agree with Mrs Manners, you are indeed a bit of a taskmaster, for I have not been put to work like this since I...well, never, actually. No-one ever dared push me, except my father, and he never managed to find a subject that interested me. But I really want to learn to play, if only in private. I will practise, Mr Fielding, and I truly hope I will be in the happy circumstance to receive another lesson from you. Do you suppose Mr Clementi will be a reasonable substitute?'

'He is one of the best, Your Highness. But Georgiana and I may be in town this summer after all, we're not exactly born to ride or hunt, and we miss our friends and yes, our audiences. We may decide to move back to town by May.'

That caught Anne's attention as well as the prince's, and she was the one to speak up.

'You are? Well, I suppose I do understand, you had everything in perfect order in London.'

'We did need this time together, Anne, we're not sorry we came to Pemberley or anything. But I'm not learning much and I could be, with Mr Clementi. And my fans may forget me even before we cross the North Sea.'

'Well you know you will be welcome to play for one fan at least once a week. And I'll ply you with chocolate and the best coffee as well as pay you handsomely. And if it pleases you to teach me I promise I'll practise every day.'

And he'd do it, he looked so hungry, Eric had convinced him he could indeed learn to play better than average, if he applied himself, like they all had to.

'Well, first we have several family visits ahead of us, and remember, we've not discussed this with Darcy or Elizabeth, yet, please keep it quiet until we have.'

Both Anne and the prince agreed, and then Eric obliged the latter by playing his romantic work again, starting with the oldest and working steadily towards the newer parts. Until someone knocked on the door and Simon entered. Simon? He never came to the drawing-room here at Pemberley, that was the butler's domain.

'Ladies, gentlemen, we have a bit of a situation, and Mrs Reynolds was glad to have me solve one end whilst she does the other. There is an equipage approaching from the south, and according to Mrs Reynolds' information it is Lady Catherine de Bourgh's. Since Mr Darcy is out hunting with Mrs Darcy and unlikely to return any time soon, she begged me to tell you that she will take care of any practical preparations but that it would fall to Mrs Fielding to receive her, if that is at all possible.'

'So soon already?'

Georgiana was a bit put out to have to actually notice her aunt, who had rarely spent even the tiniest amount of attention on her, who had actually resented Georgiana's taking so much attention from her mother, she was convinced, even more so after that old letter uncle Spencer had sent them.

'I suspect you have less than half an hour, ma'am,' Simon replied formally.

'I will do my duties as daughter of the house. Was there anything else Mrs Reynolds needed?'

For Simon clearly had other things to discuss with her.

'Three things, Mrs Fielding. Mrs Reynolds wants to know which bedroom to use, since your aunt usually had the one the Prince of Wales is using now. And whether the prince would like to be introduced as himself or under a pseudonym, in which case the staff need to know what to tell her staff. And this is my own question: do you want the little black piano moved upstairs immediately? I know you planned to install it at headquarters before her arrival, to not disturb her with your constant practice.'

That was the real Simon, and since Prince George apparently knew him as well why not just be himself here?

'Please tell Mrs Reynolds to give my aunt the next best room at her own discretion. We will not displace..' and she looked at Prince George to fill in a name.

'Mr Chester, no, make that Lord Chester for I am in fact its lord and I suppose I do need to command a certain respect to retain the rights to my room. I would like to meet the Lady Catherine I've heard you all talk of and I'm certain the Prince of Wales never will. So I'll pose as Lord Chester and see if she finds out. I'll be Mr Darcy's mystery guest, it'll be a stunning surprise. Thank you for thinking of me, Simon, and Mrs Reynolds of course.'

Simon bowed, but not as deeply as he could have. Then he looked at Eric and herself, and Eric was in doubt.

'I'd prefer to have Frederick and Nick take it, they know exactly how to lift it without spoiling the tuning. But of course your aunt can't witness that, and they're both out. And your stable staff will be really busy, too. It's hardly practical to take it away now.'

Now Anne had her say, she was obviously not pleased to have her mother visit.

'I wouldn't worry, since she won't notice it at all. It's small, it's plain, she'll walk right past it without so much as a single glance. Just leave it and have Nick and Frederick take it upstairs when she retires to dress. Do you mind if I do not receive her at the door with you, Georgiana? She does not deserve my respect, I have not forgiven her.'

'Of course we don't mind, Anne. I'll have Eric accompany me to provide my aunt with a warm welcome. Simon, I suppose we'll do as Anne advised and leave the instrument here for now. Will you tell Mrs Reynolds to send for us in time to receive my aunt? I'd like you to be there, too, as you are now. You look formidable and almost a gentleman, it'll disconcert her. Lord Chester, will you keep Mrs Manners company until we can join you again, together with my aunt?'

Prince George loved Georgiana taking charge, and he clearly wasn't going to wait outside to respectfully receive a lady who was likely to try bullying him into something, though none of them knew what as of yet. Lord Chester wanted to meet the real Lady Catherine so he should have that chance.

'It will be my pleasure, Mrs Fielding. She will be as safe with me as she would be with her guard. Well, almost as safe, I'm not that much of a fighter, but I suppose I can handle an elderly lady.'

Anne laughed, and said cheekily, 'I can handle my mother myself, Lord Chester, but who will protect me from your charms?'

Simon left with a bow, whilst Prince George replied to Anne's joking in a slightly alarming fashion.

'I'm certain your heart is guarded as well as your beautiful mortal shell, my dear Mrs Manners, and in much the same fashion. The mere presence of a strong protector will prevent almost any theft, mere charm cannot prevail over true dedication.'

Anne did not move a muscle except to show her most ravishing smile and reply, 'True. Then I shall enjoy your considerable charms as they deserve, and trust you to use them to keep my mother at bay.'

'Your wish is my command, my dear lady.'

Georgiana turned towards her husband to hide her own consternation, it was as if Prince George knew that Anne loved another man than her lawful husband, and wanted her to know he did. That did remind her of the side of London she had not appreciated, the legions of women chasing Eric as their idol despite his being a married man. But since then she'd learned that so many married people didn't take their vows seriously, even her very own father, apparently plenty of people thought nothing of it.

'I suppose your aunt may not recognise you, Georgiana,' Anne said, 'you have grown so much and are no longer a girl by anyone's standard. How long has it been since you saw her?'

'At least a year. Maybe more. I dare say you are right, I have changed a lot since then. Oh well, she'll know who I am when I greet her. Am I decent?'

She felt perfectly proper, but sometimes a person missed some flaw in her apparel that another could detect more easily.

'I see nothing amiss,' Anne replied, 'your dress is just right, your hair is still where it is supposed to be, and your carry yourself as only a pianist can. I suppose that's Simon come to fetch you.'

And indeed after the knock on the door, Simon entered.

'If you accompany me now we'll be just in time to bid your aunt welcome. They're just driving past the gatehouse.'

'We're as ready as we'll ever be, Simon. Please lead us there.'

Fortunately Eric always looked perfectly groomed and stunningly handsome, and somehow Simon's presence gave Georgiana a whole new sense of self-assurance. In the hall, Mrs Reynolds joined them with the butler and a few maids.

'Thank you for your timely warning, Mrs Reynolds,' Georgiana offered the housekeeper, imagine being taken totally by surprise, that would have been a disaster and very rude towards their aunt.

'It was my pleasure, ma'am, and a fortunate accident that one of our staff happened to see the carriage and could describe the livery accurately. Lady de Bourgh is so particular, she would have been very much put out to be left standing.'

Very much so, and Fitzwilliam really wanted those letters. Frankly, Georgiana wanted them, too, if George Wickham was her brother she needed to know.


	147. Chapter 147

Chapter 157

Lady Catherine's equipage was just coming to a slow halt when Georgiana and her entourage stepped out the front door. The liveried grooms on the back of the carriage immediately sprang into action, starting to unload the baggage, whilst the outrider and a man sitting on the box next to the driver took charge of the lead horses. Georgiana wondered why no-one opened the door for their mistress, and Simon was on the verge of moving to assist when the far door of the carriage opened from the inside and a substantial shadow wrestled itself out, to walk around the carriage entirely and open the door on the near side. Apparently, Lady Catherine had a male companion who would hold her door for her.

As soon as he came into view, Georgiana realised she knew him, and her heart sank for her sister and brother, for the tall and chubby figure rushing to his mistress' aid was none other than Mr Collins. Mr Collins at Pemberley, after the incident in London, when Fitzwilliam had forbidden him access to his house! Houses, undoubtedly, Fitzwilliam really wanted those letters but Georgiana didn't doubt he'd remove Mr Collins from his property instantly, which the unfortunate clergyman understood all too well, judging from his air of abject misery. He hadn't told aunt Catherine of his humiliation and now he was going to pay the price for his dishonesty. How was she going to solve this? She couldn't send aunt Catherine's attendant away without having to explain! Fitzwilliam was going to have to explain that himself. But first, aunt Catherine.

She had alighted from the carriage by now and was approaching on Mr Collins' arm, and Georgiana approached to give her a warm welcome. With a bit of a shock, Georgiana realised her aunt no longer resembled a battle ship, since the last time they met she had aged significantly, while she was as ample as ever her posture seemed a little more stooped and it was as if she actually leaned on Mr Collins. Instead of the expected disapproval and reproach over the absence of her favourite nephew, the old lady uttered a cry of feeling and fell on Georgiana's neck.

'Georgiana, my dear child, how you have come to resemble your dear, dear mother in her best years!'

With a gesture reminding her niece of the time when she had been a child meeting an impressive relative, aunt Catherine held Georgiana at arms' length as if to study her.

'You are as tall, and your face is almost like a copy of my dear sister Anne's, but you are obviously much stronger and you carry yourself with such becoming pride! My brother did tell me you had changed, had bloomed into a beautiful woman, but he never told me you looked so much like our dear, dear sister.'

She looked around, ignoring Eric along with Simon and Mrs Reynolds, looking for Fitzwilliam no doubt.

'Where is your brother, Georgiana? Since he wrote to me I expected him to be here to welcome me. It's been such a long time since I've seen him.'

'We were expecting you in two days, aunt Catherine. Your letter arrived on Saturday, we've never managed to make the trip from the south in less than three days.'

At least aunt Catherine understood.

'I sent it by regular mail, it must have taken a little longer than usual to arrive.'

That was it, Fitzwilliam generally used an express and they managed the distance in a mere day. It had never occurred to any of them that Lady Catherine de Bourgh would demean herself to using the regular mail.

'Ah, I suppose that explains it. He is out hunting, we expect him to return in a few hours.'

'I cannot say I am surprised that his wife didn't bother to welcome me in his place. It is much more fitting that you should do the honours.'

With great satisfaction Georgiana sprang to Elizabeth's defence, but nonchalantly.

'Oh, I don't doubt she would have been here to receive you, she is a very gracious hostess, but she is with my brother. She has her own hunter, you see, aunt Catherine. They will make their excuses when they return, I'm certain.'

And without waiting for her aunt's comment she changed the subject to something equally unpleasant, for her aunt.

'Aunt Catherine, I'd like you to meet my husband, Mr Eric Fielding. You may have heard of him since he is a very famous pianist by now.'

Her aunt looked at Georgiana very intently, again, as if she was trying to look straight through her niece to discover what had ailed her to marry a cow herd's son.

'I just cannot believe how much you look like my dear sister, Georgiana. But you are in the bloom of youth, poor Anne never had any colour or figure to speak of. You're as beautiful as I used to be.

I was the belle of my generation, Mr Fielding. It may be hard to believe now but I had a beau on every finger, and doubles on some. You're very good looking yourself, you make as handsome a couple as the papers say, it's good to know they can print something else than lies. I'm pleased to finally meet you, and I hope you're as talented as the papers want us to believe. I have a very keen enjoyment of music and a great natural taste, and I assure you I will hear instantly whether you are any good.'

Eric, of course, bowed politely and paid his overbearing relative all the deference she was due without being humble or obsequious.

'I'm pleased to meet you, too, my Lady, and I will gladly offer you the opportunity to judge for yourself whether the papers have been truthful in describing my music.'

'At least you are polite, which cannot be said for some new members of this family. I suppose you know Mr Collins, since he visited some of your concerts and couldn't find words to describe the experience? I thought I'd make an effort to please your sister-in-law, Mr Collins suggested she'd rather see her friend Mrs Collins, but I was not going to be bothered with a fussy baby on a four-day journey, and she refused to leave the mite with his father. Though I suppose a wet nurse would be an improper luxury to a mere minister's wife, even if her husband is heir to a postage-stamp-sized estate.'

Mr Collins was trying very hard to be invisible, but that was very hard for such a tall, substantial man. His face was like a full moon, fuller than Prince George's, and red cheeked, either with shame or because of a choleric constitution. Or maybe it was from working in the garden, but since the rest of his face was rather white and it was only early spring Georgiana doubted the latter. Georgiana received a deep bow from the clergyman, and when he spoke it was hardly audible. With aunt Catherine very busy directing the servants carrying her luggage inside, Georgiana guessed he would get away with his effort to say something confidential.

'Mrs Fielding, please forgive me my intrusion. I tried to dissuade my mistress from bringing me but she insisted. I know I'm not welcome here but I just couldn't face her temper, I hoped I might make my way to an inn somewhere to avoid your brother. It was a foolish thing to do, it's merely postponing my exposure. And just when everything was looking up at Hunsford.'

He rummaged in his coat pocket and offered Georgiana a thick envelope.

'This is from Mrs Collins to Mrs Darcy. Would you be so kind as to give that to her? I'll try to lag behind and make my own way to a public place. Can you tell me which way the nearest inn is?'

Poor man! That was at least five miles, he'd never make it on foot with his luggage. And aunt Catherine would certainly find out.

'It's too far to walk, Mr Collins. If you'll please calm down I'll talk to my brother, at the very least we can have you taken to Mr Eliot's church, I'm sure he'll put you up for a few nights. Now I need to accompany my aunt, but I'm pretty sure Mr Close here will find you a place to wait until my brother returns.'

'Thank you, Mrs Fielding. Mr Fielding..'

He bowed to Eric in greeting, and Eric offered to shake his hand. Stunned, Mr Collins took it, then bowed again. He then looked at Simon, recognised the London housekeeper and bowed to him as well, though significantly less deeply.

'Mr Close, I'm entirely at your mercy.'

'If it's not too much of an imposition, Simon?' Georgiana begged of him.

'It's fine, Mrs Fielding, I'll take Mr Collins with me and make him comfortable until Mr Darcy arrives. I suppose they'll want him in the confidence room? If they ring from there I'll bring Mr Collins instantly.'

'That would be perfect, thank you. And I'll make up an excuse to my aunt for your absence, Mr Collins. If necessary I'll lie to her, I've always wanted to do that, I'll tell her you fell ill with something infectious. Bye now!'

Aunt Catherine was waiting, and Georgiana offered, 'Do you want to freshen up first, aunt Catherine? Mrs Reynolds will show you your room, and I suppose your maid is already arranging it to your satisfaction. Then we can have our coffee in the drawing-room, we have a few other visitors, Lord Chester, and Mr and Mrs Manners.'

It might be a bit mean, but it sure was fun to see understanding dawn on her aunt's haughty face. Mr Manners, didn't that name sound familiar? But, that was Anne's husband! Which meant Mrs Manners was...

'This way, please, Lady de Bourgh,' Mrs Reynolds led the latest arrival to the second-best guest room.

'See you in twenty minutes, aunt Catherine!' Georgiana called out heartily, as her aunt followed Mrs Reynolds up the large stairs.

'Will you wait for me in the drawing-room, my love?' she asked Eric, 'I suppose I'd better check what Simon has done with Mr Collins, he's our problem after all, Simon doesn't even work for us anymore.'

'I'm sure he is pleased to do you a favour, as a friend, Georgiana, not a servant. But by all means, you're the lady of the house with all the others away, I'm certain Mr Collins will be more than pleased, overwhelmed, with any attention from you.'

'You think it's too much?'

'Simon has no actual duties, my love. He spends time on Prince George and on Frederick because he chooses to do so. It's no imposition on him to take Mr Collins under his wing for an hour or so, in fact, I suspect he will enjoy it as Mr Bennet would enjoy it. But you did let Mr Collins into the house when both you and he knew your brother would disapprove, so if you feel responsible I can understand if you want to make sure of him.'

'No, you are right, Simon can handle an entire household, I don't want him to think I don't trust him. I'll take responsibility towards Fitzwilliam and that's it. Let's go back to Anne, she'll be glad to see her time alone with Prince George kept as short as possible.'

But strangely enough, Anne wasn't uncomfortable at all. It was true that as soon as the door closed behind Georgiana and Eric, Prince George sat down in a comfortable chair beside her, but he did not pull it closer or enter her personal space in any other way. He did become personal in his conversation.

'Are you reluctant to meet your mother, Mrs Manners?'

Anne took her time finding the answer to that question, for she didn't actually know her own feelings that well. She had known to expect her mother at Pemberley in a few days, but that had somehow seemed really far away.

'Not more so than Darcy or Elizabeth, I guess. Somehow she has never felt like a mother to me, but more like someone in charge of my life. I'm glad to be rid of her, and last time we met I confronted her with my feelings and we had quite a row, which was a great relief to me. Frankly, a triumph. I suppose I've distanced myself from her, she's like a mere unpleasant connection now. I do feel safer with Nick around, I'm a bit disconcerted she should arrive while he is away, though I cannot have him watching over me all the time anyway, not when I'm in the drawing-room, that would be an insult to Darcy.'

'I think your cousin understands, Mrs Manners, for even I do and I've known you for days instead of years. You suffered physical hurt in your mother's care, but she never hurt you physically herself. The harm your mother did to you was mainly in the mind, she neglected to care for you, she forced you to be someone she wanted you to be when you couldn't resist. You feel safer with your guard because he is utterly devoted to you, he will not just guard your body with his life but he will also confront anyone who would hurt your mind. And I don't mean someone insulting you, you are strong enough to address that yourself. But your mother tried to deny your humanity, your right to be an individual, your right to actually live. That is something you will have to come to terms with, and until you do it is not shameful to depend on someone with a very strong will to protect your feelings.'

She knew he was right, he understood how her mother had taken everything that made someone an individual. And she also thought he was right about Nick, she knew her mother couldn't touch her anymore and still she wanted Nick to be there with her, he had been such a support. But it was more than obvious that Prince George had found out they were lovers, and she really thought they had both been very sensible, hiding their involvement perfectly. Therefore she would have to face her mother alone, or risk her finding out as well.

'How did you know? I'm quite certain we've been absolutely correct to each other in your presence.'

'You have been, admirably so. It was mostly deduction, you were too happy in a marriage of convenience, there had to be someone, and he had to be single and smart. Then the maid said he was a philanderer whilst he said himself he was desperately in love with a woman who didn't want to marry him. That should have made him unhappy which he obviously wasn't. And why lie to the other staff? And he's so damned competent, men like that are irresistible to women, and yet your husband actually hired him to guard the most beautiful woman I know. He knows, doesn't he? And he approves. You nearly had me fooled, you know, but once I suspected I caught each of you just for a second, him when we talked about the pigtails on our way to the genius Mrs Brewer, and you when we had returned to the house and he left our cosy little group quietly. But don't worry, Mrs Manners, your secret is safe with me.'

He gestured with his thumb and forefinger.

'I'm this close to figuring out your husband as well, and when I do, his secret is also safe with me. Besides, who would believe me? You're the perfect couple, and I do want to come to the Ball this year.'

Anne had already suspected he knew, but to hear him actually say it was another thing. Was he at all jealous of Nick, and would he try to use his information to get from her what he obviously wanted?

'Please don't look at me like that, Mrs Manners, I beg you to let me have this little triumph, I know when I'm beaten and I will give in beautifully and merely enjoy your beauty and your conversation. I kind of like what your husband is up to with his servants, using them as his eyes and ears in the back of the house wherever he goes, gathering information. I could use someone like him to help me work on my reputation. If you do come to London this winter we should meet.'

Could she believe him? She thought she could trust him but wasn't that how he always managed to get his way?

'Now, your mother will be here any moment, and I do promise you that as Lord Chester I will stand in for your guard this once. I will be right behind you and make sure she will not hurt you again. The next time you meet her you will have Mr Manners by your side, or maybe even your man.'

And somehow, Anne didn't doubt one moment he'd manage to silence her mother if he felt she was doing wrong.

Thanks to Prince George, or rather Lord Chester, Anne did not have time to worry about seeing her mother again after their scene at Charlotte's house. He asked her what she thought of his playing, and after she had been able to wholeheartedly compliment him on it, he'd been better than Anne to start with and picked up Eric's advice really well, they spent another twenty minutes talking of music and of the enchanting bond between Mr and Mrs Fielding. Prince George had seen many famous pianists, either at Carlton House or in various venues in town.

'Some may have been more talented or more proficient than Mr Fielding, but none have touched my heart as profoundly. I suppose his will be the music of the future and it's a future I look forward to. Mr Clementi promised me to have some romantic compositions by the end of summer, I really wonder whether he will be able to move me as much, his usual style is so different.'

'I suppose he does have a lot of life's experience,' Anne observed, 'don't you think that will make his romantic work worthwhile?'

Georgiana and Eric had returned rather quickly but didn't interfere in their head-to-head talk, and before Anne knew it the butler opened the door and announced Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Anne did not want to get up to greet her mother, but courtesy demanded she did. Eric and Georgiana stopped playing, and Georgiana approached as if to introduce her aunt to Lord Chester.

But the prince did not wait for an introduction, he took charge straight away by offering mother a slight bow and a really friendly, 'Lady de Bourgh, I am so glad to have the chance to meet such an illustrious personage! I have heard so much about you! My name is Lord Chester, I am staying for a few days to enjoy Mr Fielding's enchanting compositions.'

Mother was not looking well, she had lost some weight and a lot of her colour, and her hair seemed totally grey beneath her surprisingly fashionable hat. It was an older one, Anne recognised it, and not one she had chosen to wear often while Anne still lived at Rosings. She could not have trouble affording a new one she liked better, mother's finances were rock solid, so Anne guessed she just didn't care that much. Or maybe she'd taken fashion advice from the newspapers, the hat was in fact of a rather youthful style, probably one her seamstress had convinced her to buy. Or maybe mother's maid had done that, it was almost as if she was getting more influence over her mistress, for mother's dress was also more fitting to her size and posture. Still, there seemed to be a lot less of her mother, and though Anne couldn't worry for her, she did wonder what had caused it.

Well or not, Lady Catherine de Bourgh was to be treated with deference, and Anne could see that she was not amused with this Lord Chester's attitude. Her face practically exuded disapproval, unfortunately failing to impress the strange lord. Her mother's mind would be working frantically, lord of Chester, was Chester a place of any importance in the world? Still, this man called her illustrious and was eager to meet her, and yet he treated her with condescension, he had to be someone important! It was funny to see her mother experiencing different emotions, then deciding to play it safe. Never had her mother been wiser!

'It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Chester. You have a very familiar look about you, but I cannot for the life of me remember where I have seen you before. Are you or is someone of your family in Parliament?'

'I suppose that must be it, my Lady, my father is sometimes involved in politics, and they say I resemble him a great deal.'

The prince did not volunteer his father's name or properties, to be a lord himself with his father still alive was a sign of his being of the highest affluence and respectability, and he skilfully changed the subject of the conversation altogether.

'I am very much taken with your daughter's beauty and person, Lady de Bourgh, and was sadly disappointed to hear she was already married to a popular and respectable gentleman.'

That caused mother to really look at Anne, though she'd often stolen a few glances in Anne's direction. It was really obvious that her mother did love her, but still Anne found it hard to accept after all she had been through while her mother amused herself with the sad excuse for a doctor Rosings and its immediate vicinity boasted.

'Anne,' she said, walking towards where Anne was waiting, arms spread to embrace her daughter and the longing now audible in her voice. There was no haughtiness in her face whatsoever, which caused Anne to receive her somewhat kinder than she really wanted, she wanted no part of her mother, she should have avoided seeing her. Too late now. But way too early to let herself be embraced by the person she held responsible for ten years of living death. Instead of allowing the embrace she took one of her mother's hands, effectively disabling the effort, but she did force herself to actually talk to her.

'Mother. How have you been?'

'As well as could be without you, my child. Is it true that you are married to Mr Manners? I read it in the papers but they print so many fanciful lies these days.'

She did not mention not having been invited, nor Anne's failing to write, about the wedding or at all. And Anne wasn't going to, so she merely replied.

'Yes it is. Frederick is out hunting, he will be back in a few hours. He is looking forward to meeting you.'

'I can't say I like that new fad to call one's husband by his first name, Anne, but I suppose times change. So you're not coming back. Are you happy?'

'Very much so. Frederick is the heart and soul of the beau monde, and the kindest man you can imagine. We're very happy.'

Apparently Prince George thought that was enough discomfort for Anne, and he brought himself back to mother's attention. He was playing with her, giving her hints of who he was, he wanted to be found out eventually, it was all a scheme to save Anne the scrutiny and comments by taking them on himself. He was a kind man, despite his reputation.

'Mrs Manners will be the envy of London this winter, Lady de Bourgh, her husband is so loved by everyone there, invited to every occasion that is of any importance. I know Lady Harrington dotes on him, and he is reputed to be on an intimate footing with King George himself. Imagine Mr and Mrs Manners on a royal audience. Do you know a lot of people at court yourself?'

Of course mother didn't, people in Kent might know of her but no-one outside did. When papa had died she had buried herself at Rosings, giving up their house in town and refusing to appear in public. She had been the beauty of her generation but that was ages ago, she was totally forgotten now, or maybe that hadn't even been in court circle, Anne actually didn't know whether her mother had been presented at St James'. Mother was impressed with Lord Chester now, he was such a clever fox to pick out her weak points and work on them.

'I think my late husband, Sir Lewis de Bourgh, was familiar with everyone of any importance in his time, but he preferred his wife and daughter to lead a retired life.'

Anne dared doubt that, she rather thought mother had preferred to be in the country even then, especially once she was no longer the beauty she used to be. And if mother thought Anne was going to keep from enjoying society because she didn't approve of it, she'd better think again.

'Anne never used to like society much, I hope Mr Manners will let her retreat from public life once she is with child or her health may suffer.'

Prince George actually shrugged at Anne, he'd tried, it was time for firmer measures.

'Do you like the arts, Lady de Bourgh?'

'Oh, yes, very much so, I have a great natural taste, though I've never learned to draw or paint myself. I've assembled quite a collection of precious works, all carefully selected on subject, colour and composition. Besides the usual family portraits, of course, though I pride myself on having chosen the best talents when Sir Lewis and I added our own to the Rosings gallery.'

Anne could not recall any paintings at Rosings by a true master, but she knew the prince was a connoisseur of almost every form of art, and Anne and her mother certainly weren't. She did remember the painting of those family portraits really well, she'd had to stand for one with her parents when she was eight, and one of herself alone, which had been a tremendous bore at her tender age and with her spirits. But she'd liked the results, especially the one of her father and herself, with her beautiful mother standing behind the two of them.

Mother had also had a portrait made when Anne reached eighteen, but by then standing had become too much of a burden for her to enjoy the process. To have herself perpetuated lying down was beneath her, some of the portraits in the Rosings gallery were hundreds of years old, Anne was not going to be the only one languishing if hers were to be added to the collection. And painters always improved on their subjects, she wouldn't even have looked worn out and fagged but blush-cheeked and fresh. And therefore imagined as indolent to not be standing. Instead she'd suffered through the whole process in half-hour sessions, weeks on end, to ultimately find her portrait indeed flattered to a very pretty young woman in full bloom. More or less as she looked now, frankly.

'Oh yes, family portraits, don't I know of them,' Prince George sighed. He'd probably stood for one every year from a very early age. 'The endless waiting, and the arrogance of the painters, though Gainsborough and Reynolds are quite doable some of the less talented ones were insufferable. I try to limit the number of portraits I stand for these days. Gainsborough is as handy at painting landscapes, and they're much more comfortable to look at than my own visage. Though of course the Old Masters are the very best. Too bad, Mr Fielding, of the conflict with the Batavian Republic, with your connections you'd have gotten to see more than a few of them otherwise.'

Talking of paintings, Prince George totally dominating the conversation but really in a very interesting way, they passed the time easily until it was more or less time for the others to return. Anne did not have to say anything, nor was there any chance of her mother finding an opportunity to talk to Anne. The prince really delivered on his promise to protect Anne from mother's attentions, and she could not but be thankful to him.

Then, finally, the door opened and Darcy came in, followed by Elizabeth and Frederick. They had all changed from their riding gear but obviously rather quickly, Frederick wore a white cravat hastily tied on, Simon had not been involved in his dressing. He did move to Anne's side instantly, before greeting his mother-in-law, and while Darcy greeted his aunt without guilt or humility but very kindly, Frederick spoke to Anne softly and so very gently that she felt a twinge of sincere love for him, beyond friendship.

'I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you, dear Anne. And with Nick away as well, how deserted you must have felt. I'll be with you from now on. Have you seen Simon? He wasn't there when I dressed and I really don't like ringing for him.'

It was so endearing of him to think of Simon's dignity, but Simon didn't care in the least to play master and servant as long as he got his lover's respect in private. It was a sensibility that did make Frederick even more attractive as a person.

'Prince George took good care of me, diverted mother's attention by rubbing his status as Lord Chester in her face. I'll tell you all about it later. Mind you don't call him by his true title. And Simon is helping out in the back, Georgiana said mother brought Mr Collins, Simon is keeping an eye on him, mainly that he doesn't wet himself in fear of Darcy and Elizabeth.

I'd like a warm, comforting embrace now, I would have preferred not to see mother for a year or so, it's not easy.'

And in defiance of all etiquette and his mother-in-law, Frederick enclosed her in his broad, strong arms, as he had done so often when Anne had been suffering needlessly under her separation from Nick, after that fateful night of dancing and making love. His embrace still felt much like Nick's, his scent now more like Nick's since Frederick had changed quickly and hadn't applied fresh perfume after an undoubtedly strenuous hunt, making him less a gentleman and more a normal man, as he had joked that time when Anne had been delirious with too strong an opium pill. And Nick also wore perfume these days, though sparingly.

But for now, the embrace helped, Anne felt very safe and comfortable with Frederick, no less so than with Nick. She knew she could have come to love Frederick, if he had been attracted to women and she hadn't met Nick. But it was even better to have both, and Simon as an additional partner, they were a formidable group, each with their different qualities.


	148. Chapter 148

Chapter 158

Elizabeth wondered why Anne was so demonstratively seeking Frederick's embrace, it was not like her to want to agitate her mother by doing something that was at the very least considered improper in public. Somehow it seemed that Anne was actually a bit out of sorts, and in fact that wasn't all that remarkable: Anne hadn't wanted to see her mother at all, not yet. First she needed to find it in her to forgive the arrogant woman who had more or less delivered her own daughter to an incompetent surgeon, favouring her nephew above her very own child, and causing the latter great harm. Frederick was comforting her at the risk of insulting his new mother-in-law, and whilst he wasn't particularly set on propriety he did want most people to like him. Though Lady Catherine might be the only exception.

At least Anne was relishing his embrace, she had to yearn to have Nick close, but he could not come into the drawing-room without an invitation whilst they had visitors. When Elizabeth had seen him just before they left the stable area he had been in conversation with one of Lady Catherine's servants, apparently the one he hoped would succeed him in Dora's affections. If he had known how seeing her mother again would hurt his beloved Anne he'd have been in agony, better she tell him tonight, she had plenty of support here for now.

Fitzwilliam looked as perfectly handsome as ever, greeting his aunt a lot kinder than she deserved. Of course they had not taken the time to make love before they'd dressed, though they certainly did spend some time on each other. They had decided to greet aunt Catherine first, then look for Mr Collins, let him sweat it out a little.

'If he is at all polite I suppose I shall have to tolerate his presence, my aunt is still imposing on him and he will never be able to resist her,' her beloved had said, and Elizabeth made sure to show her approval as clearly as she could, not for her cousin's sake, but for Fitzwilliam's. She was convinced that resentment was as bad for the person sticking to it as for the one suffering under it.

Aunt Catherine had been in the house for more than an hour by now but Elizabeth couldn't see any sign of her being terribly put out by Fitzwilliam's prolonged absence. She actually seemed a bit less haughty than at other times, and she wasn't even here as the supplicant.

Then Prince George caught her eye with a small, unobtrusive gesture and winked. Had he managed this? Of course he was the heir to the throne, but Elizabeth didn't think Lady Catherine looked as if she was in the presence of the Crown Prince. Somehow, she could not believe that Lady Catherine could be with a prince and not show him deference, in that she expected Fitzwilliam's aunt to be just like Mr Collins: treading on the lower ranks but obeisant to those above them. Unfortunately for Mr Collins, substantially more people were above him, even his penniless, cut-out cousin Elizabeth was these days. And Jane, and Kitty.

'I'm Lord Chester for now, Mrs Darcy,' a humorous voice said behind Elizabeth. Prince George had moved to stand behind her, and spoke quietly. 'I hope your husband won't inadvertently give it away.'

'I don't think so, Lord Chester,' Elizabeth replied as softly. 'I suppose it's rather obvious she doesn't know your real rank, though she is a lot less overwhelming than usual.'

'I'm afraid that may be my fault, I promised Mrs Manners to keep her mother out of her hair in absence of both her husband and her faithful shadow. I'm afraid I overdid it a little, I tend to talk too much, I've heard that often enough and yet I cannot seem to help myself. And now Mrs Manners is seeking solace with her husband, he looks positively tender. I'm so jealous.'

'Lord Chester, I'm both diverted and scandalised. I've always had a secret hope someone would put Lady Catherine firmly in her place and you seem to have done that quite adequately. But Frederick is truly a very good man and he makes Anne very happy. You may be jealous, but do not underestimate his qualities.'

That obviously didn't happen to a prince very often, he was very surprised at Elizabeth's admonishment. Of course he recovered really quickly and said charmingly, 'I stand corrected, Mrs Darcy. Your informality towards Mr and Mrs Manners proves you are very good friends, and even if I didn't trust your observations, I know now that Mrs Manners has every possible chance to stay as happy as she currently is.'

During their ride back to Pemberley, Frederick had told her that Simon was getting rather desperate with the prince's constant attempts to gain information from him, and his constant hints that he knew what was going on in Frederick and Anne's marriage. Elizabeth now understood poor Simon's complaints, why couldn't the man leave well enough alone, they didn't try to find out whether his wife was as repulsive as he'd described her to Fitzwilliam and Frederick, did they, or how many genteel ladies he had seduced? They just treated him nicely, and respected his privacy. Elizabeth really wanted to ask him why he couldn't just enjoy their company, but that was going way too far, she should never forget this was their future king.

'I see you are not done chastising me, Mrs Darcy, you know I adore you, you can speak up freely. Maybe I'll learn something useful.'

Against better judgement, Elizabeth did.

'Why do you insist on prying in Mrs Manners' private life, Lord Chester? She merely wants a little fun, to make up for her ten years of living death. She is not harming anyone, nor is Mr Manners.'

That was a bit blunt, but he had asked. And her question had effect, he seemed rather surprised, though obviously unpleasantly so.

'Is that what you all think I'm doing? Prying? I hadn't thought of it that way, but I can see how it must seem I am. I'm sorry, I suppose I'm rather selfish. I did notice Simon's discomfort but it was such an interesting mystery to work out, a real challenge, I couldn't help myself. I apologised, then just continued prying, ignoring his wishes, he couldn't refuse me his services anyway. Nor his answers. And yet I don't believe for one moment that Mr Manners prefers women of a certain profession over a smart, beautiful lady. That is enough to fool a mean-minded servant, but not me. I think I know whom Mr Manners loves, and now you tell me I may not try to prove it to myself? I just have to go back to London not knowing? What harm can it do? I'll never tell anyone.'

Elizabeth really had to restrain herself not to sound angry, he was so selfish, he would chance ruining two of her friends' lives just to satisfy his curiosity.

'What gives you the right to know everything? Knowledge is power, Lord Chester, some people might think that you want to use that power to try to control their lives. We've treated you as one of our own, but just as you prefer to keep your private affairs to yourself, so do we.'

'I stand rebuked again, Mrs Darcy. You have indeed been very kind to me, much less formal than I feared and very inclusive, especially your husband, who really didn't like me at all. I promise you I will stop prying, especially towards Simon, who cannot refuse me. Though I am excessive disappointed to have to let go of my mystery. I suppose your husband wants you, see?'

And indeed, Fitzwilliam was done talking to his aunt, and now it was time for Elizabeth to be polite, if they wanted to know about Wickham for once and for all. She didn't think Prince George would use any knowledge he gained to his own advantage, but he had to be told he was being selfish, he was taking his amusement way too far.

After receiving his aunt kindly and having talked to her about the state of their affairs and of Pemberley, Darcy decided it was time for her to acknowledge Elizabeth, though the latter was deeply in conversation with Prince George. He didn't dare interrupt the prince, but fortunately it seemed as if aunt Catherine was rather impressed with the unfamiliar gentleman anyway, therefore she would not be likely to complain. Darcy decided to be very formal in his introduction, he was married and his aunt would accept his choice of a wife, bringer of a favour or not.

'Aunt Catherine, you have met Mrs Darcy before, but not at Pemberley. I dare say she is a most gracious mistress of my ancestral home, and I am still very grateful to her for returning my passionate affections.'

She didn't like to hear her nephew say things like that, he had done the upstart a favour, not the other way around. Little did she know what her own role had been, maybe he should tell her. After they'd seen the letters.

Elizabeth curtseyed beautifully, but not too deeply: she was mistress of Pemberley after all. She did let aunt Catherine speak first.

'I suppose you've done very well for yourself here, Mrs Darcy, though you might have a word with your housekeeper: she gave me the wrong room. My dear sister Anne always gave me the corner apartment and I've had that ever since when I'm staying over. You should see the room I've been relegated to, it's half the size and the fireplace smokes something dreadful.'

Trust aunt Catherine to start her true connection to Darcy's wife with petulance. That room was perfectly fine, only slightly smaller than the corner room and frankly, with a bed more suitable to someone of his aunt's age. Elizabeth's beautiful face showed only geniality as she replied calmly.

'It's my pleasure to receive you at Pemberley at last, Lady Catherine. I'm sorry to hear that your room is not to your satisfaction,' and here she drew the elderly lady a bit to the side and spoke a bit lower, 'but you see, Lord Chester already occupied the corner room before you gave word of your arrival, and he is not the kind of person one can afford to insult. I'll have the chimney in your room looked at, and I'm sure the gardener can cut some early flowers to brighten the place up a little.'

Oh, dear, dear, Elizabeth! To be so kind and reasonable and at the same time say such fearsome things. She even sounded a little fearful. But she was right, Prince George was a genial man, but Darcy suspected he might be very sensitive of his own status and undoubtedly a bad enemy, though never to Elizabeth.

Since Elizabeth and aunt Catherine did not have much to discuss and everyone knew that, Manners had now released Anne, who stood behind her husband. Prince George had seated himself in a chair next to Anne's usual spot, marked by her work basket. Elizabeth had apparently decided she might as well do the honour of introducing aunt Catherine to her son-in-law, well, Anne certainly wasn't going to and someone had to do it.

'It is my honour to introduce you to Mr Frederick Manners, our newest relative.'

A feeling of intense love suffused Darcy, he truly did admire his beloved for her impertinence. To nonchalantly claim a relationship to his aunt was so clever and so subtly insulting. True, though, they were relatives and his aunt had better accept that.

Manners was at his most affable, and in his case that was very much so. He bowed politely and waited for his mother-in-law to greet him. Aunt Catherine did not disappoint, she seemed so much less arrogant all of a sudden.

'Mr Manners, I'm so pleased to meet you, I read in the papers that you and Anne were married but I'm glad you did me the honour of writing that kind letter. I must admit I did feel slighted. Some might say you married too quickly, but I want you to know I am very happy to see my dear daughter so well loved. Thank you, Mr Manners.'

No officious advice? No hidden slights?

'I am also honoured to meet you, Lady de Bourgh. Anne and I are very happy together, as we'll show the world this coming winter when we move to London.'

More polite phrases were exchanged and they sat down together talking, whilst Anne chatted with Prince George. Georgiana gestured for Darcy to come to her at the piano, which she wouldn't have dared as little as a year ago. Now she handed him a letter and quietly spoke to him.

'Mr Collins is here, he gave me this letter for Elizabeth and said he didn't want to come but he didn't dare tell aunt Catherine the truth either. He is with Simon in the servants' quarters, and Simon offered to bring him to you in the confidence room when you ring the bell there. He was frightened almost to death, Fitzwilliam, Mr Collins, not Simon. We'll entertain aunt Catherine for awhile, once Frederick is done charming her.'

Good, they should not allow Mr Collins in the drawing-room if it could be helped, better if he stayed far away from Prince George. If they removed the Zumpe to headquarters maybe they could keep Elizabeth's obnoxious cousin upstairs, he loved Fielding's music. But Prince George did, too, after his little tour of the second floor yesterday he would certainly want to join the younger crew there. Well, Collins wasn't that smart, if Prince George sat up there whilst he and Elizabeth entertained aunt Catherine downstairs, there was the least chance of anyone discovering his true identity. Better ask Elizabeth to come along to the confidence room now, she still had Charlotte's letter to read after all.

Sitting with Mr Collins in the confidence room for what might turn into an hour altogether would not be pleasant to either of them, so Simon decided to take Mrs Darcy's cousin to the common-room. It was a bit below his dignity, but Mr Darcy would not appreciate having him on the loose, and at least in the servants' quarters they'd have people to talk to and and some entertainment, something was always going on in there with so many people about.

Still feeling a little apprehensive about treating Mrs Darcy's cousin with inappropriate familiarity, Simon did it nonetheless. He was an independent man, he had a fortune, he chose to pretend to be a servant and he was not going to scrape and bow to a mere clergyman if the Prince of Wales treated him with geniality.

'This way, please, Mr Collins. Have you ever been to Pemberley?'

'Indeed I have not, though I have wished to. I've heard the library is without equal, I'd hoped to be allowed to spend some hours there.'

He didn't sound put out at all but rather pathetically relieved. He'd probably expected to be summoned to leave immediately, in utter disgrace. He might still be sent away but Simon guessed not in disgrace, Georgiana had more or less promised the wretch to at least fabricate an excuse if he had to go, and to help him find a place to stay. Mr Eliot would be an excellent choice, he had a near-boundless patience and Mr Collins might learn something from a truly superior minister.

Simon longed to observe that though the current Mr Darcy kept his collection of religious works scrupulously up to date, his father and grandfather had neglected that part of the library in favour of the kind of books most people hid carefully. But of course he didn't. Instead, he offered the clergyman a comfortable seat on a padded bench and offered him coffee and a hearty snack to accompany it, which Mr Collins did not refuse. To be polite, he took a cup of coffee himself and a slightly less hearty version of the pastry Cook had on offer for the servants with an appetite between meals, notably the youngsters and the stable and garden staff.

'You're Mr Darcy's housekeeper in London, aren't you? You look different without the livery, did you get a promotion to be housekeeper here as well?'

'I used to be Mr Darcy's valet until he promoted me to housekeeper when the butler left. But Mrs Reynolds is the housekeeper here, I left London because I changed situations, I've taken service as Mr Manners' valet. I'm here because he is staying over for the summer.'

'But Mrs Fielding asked you to take care of me?'

'As a kind of favour. We're friends. In London, I befriended Mr Fielding, and when he married Miss Darcy we became friends as well. A valet generally isn't a very busy servant, Mr Collins, we help our master dress twice or three times a day, then spend the rest of the day spying on the other servants or improving our own looks or conversation. As a breed we're very vain.'

Mr Collins actually laughed at Simon's wit, and while he did that he looked much more sympathetic than Simon remembered him. Then he sobered up.

'But you're expected to be at your master's beck and call. Isn't that rather demeaning?'

'That depends on one's master. Fortunately I have a reputation for being very good at my job, I can choose my employer and demand some privileges others cannot.'

'Did you change employers because Mr Darcy wasn't good to you?'

This time, it was Simon's turn to laugh, for Mr Collins sounded a bit rueful. He'd certainly run into Mr Darcy's worst side.

'Actually, no. I always loved working for him. But now he is married I suspect he will stay at Pemberley most of his time, and not need perfectly tied cravats and fashionable pantaloons, meaning I'd have virtually nothing to do but fight with Mrs Darcy's maid for a chance to clear away their laundry. Besides, I'm a city boy, I'd miss London. Mr Manners is an important man in London society and he will need my attendance every evening coming winter. I'm looking forward to it.'

'And when you get older, or want to start a family, what will you do?'

'I'm saving up to start my own business in London. Gentlemen's fashion, I've a real mission to improve the look of every man who can afford good quality clothing.'

'Sadly, some of us cannot be helped, Mr Close.'

He meant himself, poor man. He indeed wasn't a good-looking man, but some of that was his own fault. Prince George's features were only slightly more refined and he looked perfectly fine because he dressed well and took care of himself. Well, had himself cared for. Even if his finery was about a decade out of date. Though Mr Collins would never be able to afford those brocades and silks, he was free to follow fashion, which the prince wasn't, not really, though Simon thought he might do it so slowly no-one would notice until it was too late. But that was a foolish dream of Simon's. Still, there was certainly hope for improvement for Mr Collins.

'Nonsense, Mr Collins, we can all dress better. Not all fashionable men have natural beauty, clothes do make the man.'

At this point, Nick entered with Hughes in tow, the latter still a rather attractive man despite being in his forties already. He wore a livery and he did that very well, almost as good as Simon did himself, and he had an unconscious air of calm and self-assurance. His face was weathered but in the way of a man ageing well, making him more attractive instead of less. Though Simon had known Hughes for a long time, all the ten years he'd been Mr Darcy's valet to be precise, Simon noticed only now that he and Nick had a certain stance in common, which had most likely to do with their both being in charge of security.

'Collins!' Hughes exclaimed informally, 'did you get banned from the drawing-room?'

His voice betrayed some vexation, they seemed to actually be friendly with each other. Simon would have guessed Mr Collins to look down upon a mere staff member.

'I'm glad not to be on the road to the village, Hughes, it's five miles. Mrs Fielding has promised she'll get me a place to stay with their minister if her brother refuses to let me into his house. And she said she'll lie to the mistress why I'm gone. Now don't get angry, Hughes, I did something unforgivable, Mr Darcy has every reason to be angry with me, really.'

Mr Hughes shook his head, but accepted Mr Collins' soothing words. Nick took this opportunity to say, 'Hughes, you remember Simon, no doubt?'

Simon took the offered hand as the tall guard replied heartily, 'I most certainly do, though he looks even smarter than he used to. I heard you've changed employers, Simon?'

'I did, I work for Mr Manners now. He lives in the thick of public life, I love it.'

'And so does Nick here, apparently. You are lucky fellows, a kind master, living in London at least half the time and spending the rest moving from fashionable family to fashionable family. If I were your age I'd envy you. Which brings me to my reason to accompany my mistress, as I've already told Nick: Dora. Frank is out of his mind about her, but she seems to prefer the life you are all leading now. Is there any chance for him to make an impression on her? If not, he'd better find out now and set his sights on some other girl.'

'Nick knows her best, Hughes, I know she loves her duties and being in town, and she is really promising, picks up the latest fashions instantly, she can hold her own even amongst even a gaggle of London servants, and she can hold her tongue. I'm impressed with her performance, and she is improving every day.'

'That is what I wanted to know from you, thank you. So I guess Frank's suit is rather hopeless then.'

'Well, not if he is patient. They're both still very young, a year or two of following her mistress around from party to party may make her yearn for the quiet of the country. Or he might try his luck in town.'

Simon really thought they were rather young to plan out a future together. They could easily live their own lives and write for a few years, couldn't they? Until they both knew what they wanted with their lives. It was what he'd advise any youngster in love. Eric and Georgiana were the exception, they knew exactly what they wanted and they wanted exactly the same thing, but most men and women were rather different and needed some more time. Nick put Simon's sentiment in words.

'I see no problem, Hughes. They're young, they can be in different houses and still stay in touch by writing. A lot of people do. If we can give them a few hours together each day for as long as your mistress resides here I suppose that is more than they were expecting to get. Dora never thought of Frank as he did of her, she has gotten used to the idea but that doesn't mean she'll love him instantly. And she has changed, she is much more self-assured than he remembers her. He may be disappointed in her.'

Before Hughes could answer, the door opened and Mrs Reynolds entered, grumbling to herself, clearly audible to anyone close enough, which were all four of them.

'Annoying woman, arriving without giving proper notice then complain. As if we were going to kick out someone of real consequence to please a windbag. Some people at least know how to be polite, he may come here unannounced any day, imagine having the p...'

Suddenly realising there were two strangers in the common-room she shut up instantly, losing some of her unshakeable dignity to stammer, 'Oh, I wasn't expecting anyone here at this time of the day. I'm sorry.'

Well, she should be, she called the two men's mistress an annoying windbag, but worse, she almost betrayed the true identity of the Prince of Wales to the worst gossip alive. Mr Collins had made up a story about Miss Elizabeth Bennet being about to enter an engagement with Mr Darcy, right after her sister had accepted Mr Bingley's offer. Of course it had eventually led to their finding each other, making Mr Darcy the happiest of men, but still it had been a nasty piece of gossip that might have done quite a bit of mischief.

Hughes actually laughed out loud.

'Never mind, my dear lady, we've called her worse. Elderly ladies like our mistress often handle new situations badly, except I've worked for Lady Catherine for several decades and she was always like that, even when much younger still. We tend to ignore it, though Mr Collins here is still an apprentice in that art.'

He was positively charming, and Mrs Reynolds was not insensitive to his kind words.

'Thank you, sir. Here I am trying to teach these two scoundrels a few manners, then let myself get caught behaving inappropriately. I'll never live this down. And they're not even mine to command anymore.'

Well, well, who would have known that Mrs Reynolds had it in her? That sounded suspiciously like a sense of humour!

'I'm certain neither of us will ever breathe a word of what we heard. In fact, we only heard you say you'd like a cup of tea, which it will be our pleasure to make for you.'

Hughes looked at Mr Collins significantly while he said this, not because he expected the man to jump up and make tea, but to make sure he'd keep his mouth shut.

'I'm Rupert Hughes, ma'am, very pleased to meet you.'

Nick, meanwhile, had moved to the kitchen, presumably to fetch all of them some tea.

'Thank you, Mr Hughes, and thank you for your sense of humour. I really don't make a habit of insulting honoured guests. I'm Mrs Reynolds, the housekeeper.'

Simon could see these two highly ranked servants had taken an instant liking to each other, and the next half hour would be very interesting for all of them. Maybe Mr Collins would be able to forget for a few moments that he could be summoned to Mr Darcy's study any time now.

With Lady Catherine deep in conversation with Frederick, and Anne working and chatting with Prince George, or rather, Lord Chester, for he seemed a different man altogether, much less a charmer and more a faithful companion, Georgiana and Eric had apparently decided they could return to their own activities. And instead of providing background music, they set to serious practising, which meant playing the same few bars of music over and over again, sometimes stopping to discuss a finer point, then continuing as before. Frederick was as immune to the constant repetition as Fitzwilliam had ever been, and Prince George likely knew the price of true excellence. Elizabeth and Anne had both gotten used to the noise a long time ago, but Lady Catherine was very obviously disturbed by what could best be described as a continuous jangling noise. Was Georgiana doing this on purpose?

'I think it's time for us to see to your cousin, my love,' Fitzwilliam breathed in Elizabeth's ear. He didn't seem all that put out, actually. Maybe Mr Collins still stood a chance of being allowed to stay.

'My aunt is pleasantly engaged for now, and Lord Chester will make sure she doesn't pester Anne. A perfect time to do our duty. Besides, I'd like to have it over with.'

'I think you are right, let us be done with it. To the confidence room then?'

'I suppose so. Or should I have him in my study?'

'He is probably ready to faint already, my love, please take a little pity on him.'

'If he treats you with respect. If not I'll have Hugo take him to Mr Eliot, I'm sure he will be thrilled to have a confrère over.'

Knowing Mr Eliot, he probably would. The man was almost too good to be true, except his benevolence was so real he very nearly shone with it. But frankly, Elizabeth preferred they'd take care of their own unwanted guests, even if that meant Fitzwilliam going back on his word. It was not as if Mr Collins would be gloating over getting a reprieve, he'd be pathetically thankful. Besides, his situation obviously hadn't changed, as far as she knew Lady Catherine hadn't asked after him once since their arrival. Didn't she find it at all peculiar that he'd disappeared? Or was she merely glad to be rid of him once in the company of her own kind? He'd been good enough as a companion on the road, but as soon as someone better could be had he seemed to be forgotten.

Once in the confidence room, Fitzwilliam rang the bell to summon their unwelcome guest. A few minutes later a knock on the door announced Simon's arrival with Mr Collins, Elizabeth taking care to check Simon's face for signs of irritation over her obnoxious cousin's behaviour. It would give a hint of what was to come.

Surprisingly enough, Simon seemed a bit concerned for his companion, that was something to take into account. It implied that Mr Collins had somehow won his sympathy. And though Simon was more easily won over than his impeccable looks suggested, so far Mr Collins had always been more likely to rile up the staff than make friends with them.

'Is there something we need to discuss, Simon?' Fitzwilliam asked kindly.

'If you please, Mr Darcy.'

They still knew each other so well, no need for words between them, Fitzwilliam could see Simon had something to divulge. He followed Simon out, leaving Elizabeth by herself with Mr Collins. Inadvertently remembering his pompous proposal to her that time at Netherfield, not more than a year ago though it seemed ages, she was struck by his difference in attitude. Mr Collins had not had an easy year, though it had also brought him a superior wife and a lovely baby son.

'I'm pleased to see you looking fine, Mr Collins. Was Mrs Collins well when you left?'

'Dear Charlotte was in perfect health, Mrs Darcy. She sent you a letter, which I gave to Mrs Fielding, since I wasn't certain how long I could stay. I wanted you to have it as quickly as possible.'

'She gave it to me not ten minutes ago. I'm looking forward to reading it.'

'Mrs Darcy, I did what Miss de Bourgh's guard, now Mrs Manners' guard, told me to do: I made friends with Lady Catherine's staff. It has changed my life, and Charlotte's.'

This was when Fitzwilliam returned, sat down and gestured Mr Collins to sit down as well, Elizabeth choosing a seat beside her beloved. Fitzwilliam then gestured Mr Collins to speak.

'Your sister, Mrs Fielding, allowed me to come into the house, Mr Darcy. I cannot deny I was glad not to have to walk five miles to the nearest inn after confessing to your aunt. I should have refused to come and told her why, I suppose I'm a coward for I didn't dare to.'

'Now, now, Mr Collins, no need to be so hard on yourself. Elizabeth has told me some of what happened to you at Rosings, I can imagine you didn't feel like provoking my aunt. I don't blame you for giving in to her, you know. And Simon just asked me to be lenient, it seems you have won yourself an advocate in my household in less than half an hour. Apparently you have become good friends with my aunt's staff, and I am very glad to hear that. Simon suggested to have you stay in the servants' quarters, where your friends and Mrs Reynolds can keep an eye on you, but I won't have that.'

Mr Collins bowed his head to accept what was coming, but Elizabeth didn't think it was that bad.

'You're family, and a gentleman by birth, you will have a room among us and prove yourself worthy of it. Am I right?'

Mr Collins had the good grace to look overcome with relief and actual gladness, and when he stammered his reply he did not show any displeasing humility, in fact he looked Fitzwilliam straight in the eye, though it obviously was an effort to do so.

'Thank you very much, Mr Darcy. For letting me stay and allowing me back into the family. I promise I will prove myself deserving of that honour.'

He sat straighter than ever before, and though he did not get any handsomer, his whole appearance was more becoming to her father's heir.

'Now, Mr Collins,' Fitzwilliam continued, 'we have a very important guest staying with us, a very influential gentleman who can mean a lot to Mr Fielding and my sister since he has considerable patronage in the arts of every kind. He has already met my aunt, and I will introduce you to him shortly. Like Mr Manners, he is very genial and outgoing, but I implore you to never let yourself become in any way familiar towards him, even though his kindness will invite you to. Please remind yourself constantly of the rules of conduct when in his presence. You will find both Elizabeth and Anne, and sometimes even Georgie, much more informal with him, but that is not an example to be followed by us gentlemen.'

Mr Collins seemed to shrink hearing that, and Elizabeth wondered whether it was a sensible thing to do, warning him to be on his best behaviour. Wouldn't that send him right back to his usual obsequiousness? Still, his reply was promising, for he lost none of his recently acquired dignity and replied, 'You will find me the perfect guest, Mr Darcy. I will do my utmost to never again cause you displeasure.'

Wasn't that all any man could do, Elizabeth thought with humour. Besides, they would find out soon enough, for now her beloved rose from his seat and said, 'I'm hungry, that was quite a strenuous ride this morning, let's see if we can find something to eat.'

And so it had been, she was very ready for some refreshment herself, and she hoped there would be some of Mrs Brewer's creations left for coffee.


	149. Chapter 149

Chapter 159

When Simon had taken Mr Collins to meet Mr and Mrs Darcy, and Mrs Reynolds had somehow spirited away Hughes, allegedly to look at some peculiar kind of fowl in the kitchen garden which Lady de Bourgh's guard had shown a great interest in, Nick was left all by himself in the large common-room. He did not rue this enforced solicitude for he had some things to contemplate before he faced anyone else.

First of all, how much he liked country life, the fox hunt this morning had been the crown on his efforts to be a gentleman. Most of all the riding lessons, of course, the speed and the excitement were such as he had never expected to experience. But also those painstaking hours Frederick, Simon and Anne, and even Mr and Mrs Darcy, had spent on him, helping him to lose the London accent and the coarse expressions, teaching him how to dine properly, how to make innocuous conversation, how to stand, walk and dress like a gentleman. Without that, he would have felt utterly out of place here, but as it was he had come to love this life, the constant entertainment, the total absence of duties either pleasant or unpleasant, the freedom. The richness of the food, the gentility and intelligence of his companions. Did he ever want to return to London? Probably, but not until he'd spent his whole summer here. Travelling abroad would be fun, too, but much more dangerous, and tiring. Why go through all that trouble to look upon yet another large city? Did they really think it would be that different from London, did they think the outskirts wouldn't be as badly maintained and poverty-stricken as the outer reaches of London? They probably didn't even know how common people lived.

Well, Nick was glad he now knew how they lived, and to be allowed to participate in a lot of their activities. Which meant he was done contemplating his own life and should occupy himself thinking of that other subject: Dora. Frank seemed to think that Nick was his main advocate towards the girl of his dreams, whereas Nick mostly thought they would have to sort this out between themselves. But maybe he could give Frank a few hints, the boy was so shy and inexperienced and Dora was, too, so much so that she wouldn't even notice how irresistible such shyness made her admirer.

For a few moments Frank had embarrassed Nick, by addressing him whilst in the company of the master and lady of the house, though they hadn't seemed to mind. Frankly, they had both seemed distracted by the arrival of someone they obviously didn't like very much. In Hunsford, Nick had seen enough of Lady de Bourgh and Mrs Darcy together to know there was no love lost between those two ladies.

Frank had greeted Nick like an old friend, which was rather amusing since at that time of their visit he'd been convinced that Nick was his competitor for Dora's affection, which Nick might have been if he'd wanted to. But as it was, Nick was rather happy to see Frank so determined to win Dora, however this turned out it would do Dora a world of good to have an admirer. It gave a woman such a boost to her confidence, and Dora would need to be very self-assured if she wanted to make it in the city as a lady's maid. It was by no means certain that she would be allowed to come to the continent, and if not, she'd have to find herself a different position. Then again, they might stay in London all winter, and if so, Nick didn't doubt that Frederick and Anne would be regular visitors at Carlton House, which meant Dora and Nick would sometimes reside in the servants' quarters there. Nick would have Simon to help him fit in and besides, few people dared cross Nick these days, with his confidence as a guard well-established. But Dora would have to fight for her position, women were so much less forgiving to one another, one mistake and she might find herself ostracised. She might be treated miserably by the prince's servants just for her mistress being of a lesser rank, or because she was from the country.

But that was of a later concern, maybe Dora would decide to return to Kent with Frank after all. For now, Nick had to decide whether he was going to prepare Dora for Frank's imminent arrival in the common-room, as Frank had pleaded him to do, or to just let her be surprised. He had not promised Frank any interference, had said he needed to think about whether it would improve his situation. Hughes thought it would and had almost pushed Nick to do just that, but Nick really didn't know whether his involvement would help Frank.

As it turned out, Nick's involvement was inexorable and entirely spontaneous. He hadn't at all decided what to do, yet, when Dora came storming in, obviously looking for someone. When she saw him she merely smiled sweetly, as she always did since she'd conquered her infatuation for him, as if she remembered something precious lost years ago. It was flattering to be remembered with such kind feelings, but it was rather embarrassing as well since there had been nothing between them and it wasn't all that long ago either. How many years did Dora count anyway, not even eighteen. Maybe at that age a half-year's infatuation counted as eternal love. Well, Frank would undoubtedly understand better since he was of a much more suitable age for Dora, and in love with her, whilst Nick had never been in love before falling for Anne.

'Nick! I was helping Fanny inventory the storage room when one of the maids told us Lady Catherine the Bourgh had arrived with as many as four retainers, and Fanny told me to go check whether there was anyone I knew who could tell me about Frank. Or maybe he'd sent a letter, or a little present. He used to give me presents, and I merely accepted them and never saw what they meant. Can you believe how foolish I was?'

'You were merely very young, Dora. I suppose you just weren't ready for love not to recognise it in another. So you'd like to hear from him again so soon? His latest letter arrived only last week.'

Her expression became so dreamy that Nick's hopes for Frank were rising quickly.

'Oh, yes, I'd love to hear about him, maybe Hughes came, they're good friends, you see. Did you see anyone? Fanny said you were going on a real fox hunt on one of Mr Manners' hunters. Is that true?'

'It is, Dora, and it was the most exciting thing I ever did. We didn't get the fox but I wasn't sorry for that, though I know they're a real pest for the farmers and villagers.'

Dora did not let him finish but interjected, all admiration.

'So you really did go on a hunt. You're like a gentleman yourself, Nick, all concerned about villagers and farmers. You never spent a thought on people like that in London.'

True. He'd eaten potatoes and carrots without ever spending a thought on the people who grew them. He'd enjoyed those Old Rookery pies without considering how many eggs and how much cream and white sugar were used to make them. Their visit to Mrs Brewer had enlightened him on that. He'd never have any responsibility over anyone, so why think of their plight?

'Somehow they were much further away there, Dora. Or maybe it's listening to gentlemen talk that has made me aware of country people. Anyway, that is not the point. The maid was right, Lady Catherine did arrive, and she did bring Hughes, I saw him myself when we returned from the hunt.'

Dora's face lighted up, and Nick couldn't help it, he had to tell her.

'Dora, he brought Frank. For you. Well, and for Frank, of course. He'll be over any time now, he was a little shy, wanted me to tell you first. Are you pleased?'

Pleased was not the right word to describe Dora when hearing the news, she was in total shock and her eyes filled up with tears. She stammered, 'Frank? He's here? Now?'

Nick had to control himself not to take her in his arms, that would only confuse the poor girl.

'Dora, you're not sorry he came, are you? He really wants to see you.'

'No, no, I'm glad he came, I just didn't expect him.'

Then she confessed.

'I'm afraid he'll be disappointed, he has written such beautiful things, he is so smart, and I can barely write a letter without your help. We didn't see much of each other in Kent, I'm afraid he has some ideal picture of me and that I'll disappoint him.'

That was almost too ludicrous to address, but Nick made the effort nonetheless.

'Dora, you're young, pretty, and smart. Everybody has praised your mistress' looks, and you know you made her look so good, even when she had never gone out before and hadn't cared about dresses and hair for years and years. You taught yourself to be a proper lady's maid, dear Dora. Maybe you never learned to write as a little girl, but you've learned since, haven't you? To write to Frank? And you are almost friends with Mrs Fielding, curling her hair until she really did look like a sheep and said so herself and laughed herself in stitches? Now Frank adores you, there is not a single bone in his body that is ever going to see a fault in you. I bet he is very nervous to meet you, afraid you'll find him countrified and boyish. In fact, he told me he was afraid of that. Please don't worry, Dora, either of you. You'll either like him when you get to know him or you don't. Same for him. And if you don't, life goes on, really.

Now, you dry your eyes and straighten your dress and put up your hair afresh, he can come in any moment with the other stable staff.'

Of course Dora did what he said, she was so much in awe of him, he was much older than she and rather bossy towards her. Did he consider himself above the other staff because he received preferential treatment? If so, he'd better restrain himself, it was not his intention to behave like an arrogant gentleman himself. To make up for his attitude, Nick made sure to be very kind to Dora until Frank indeed accompanied the other stable hands on their afternoon break.

She practically froze when he came in, as did he. The others studiously ignored the endearing scene before them, though the Pemberley stable hands generally liked to tease each other, and often included the house staff in their bantering. And it wasn't as if they were holding back because of the Rosings' people among their number, they were as noisy as ever and pestering Bruce that he'd returned a little white-faced after sitting on the box with Bob during their master's mad ride the day before.

Nick noticed that Bob didn't participate in the banter, he was the only man in the little party to surreptitiously look at what was going on between Dora and Frank, the look on his face even softer than usual. And yet Bob had quite a will, even Hugo acknowledged he was the best driver he knew, no chance of Bob looking white when those damned thoroughbreds of Mr Darcy's went all out. Nick really wanted to try that, too, but he didn't dare mention it, not even to Frederick. He had enough privileges as it was.

Nick was in doubt whether to help Dora settle but decided to stay out of it. Instead he joined the other group at the largest table, the cook's helpers arriving to bring coffee and a solid meal, enough to tide the hard-working men over until dinner. Since Nick had had coffee but nothing to eat, yet, he didn't hesitate to join them, though he did not lose sight of the young people, who had by now settled at a smaller table as far as possible from the rest. He drank another cup of coffee and ate a few pastries, then sat back to follow the stable talk, except Hugo turned towards him and commented, 'Oliver said he couldn't believe you've only been riding for a month, Fowler. One of those jumps you took this morning was apparently a bit more than he'd bargained for, he'd forgotten the tenant had asked permission to significantly deepen a ditch and Mr Darcy had given it. Then when he took the jump he realised his mistake but it was too late, one just cannot turn a hunt around. Were you at all afraid?'

No-one in the stable staff had ever tried to tease Nick, and he wasn't going to lie to them now.

'When I saw that ditch I did swallow hard, but you know it all went so fast, before I knew it my horse had taken it and I had made a safe landing. I will admit I was glad to be riding my master's hunter, my own Liquor would probably have refused outright.'

'I doubt that, Fowler, your horse seems to be rather competitive, I think he would have at least tried to follow Oliver's horse. But it's always more sensible to train them to take such difficult obstacles, it's not just courage but also a technique they need to learn, and muscle they have to build. One has to start small. If your duties allow I'm willing to help you teach him, you're a natural horseman, and I think Liquor will surprise us all.'

Nick was stunned, Hugo the stablemaster willing to teach someone of the house staff? It was a dubitable honour considering the reputation the stablemaster had as teacher, but if Anne could stand Eric's methods to learn to play the piano, Nick would learn from Hugo what he could about hunting.

'I'd love to, thank you so much!'

'I think Mr Manners' stablemaster made a mistake buying Liquor for a beginner, but as it turned out he is perfectly suited to you. Any other novice would have given up weeping. Well, except maybe Mrs Darcy. Did you see her take that jump? Oliver only knew she'd managed without mishap.'

'I rode right behind her, so yes. She took it perfectly, without a moment's hesitation. Her horse may be small, but he has the courage of a lion.'

As does she, Nick thought with admiration, but it wouldn't do to say that out loud among her staff.

'So he does, so he does,' the stablemaster said proudly, he'd chosen the creature after all, he could take credit for finding Mrs Darcy the perfect horse. 'I don't think I've ever made a better deal for the master, they had raised that horse as perfectly as possible, then when he didn't grow to the size their master wanted he had them sell it for a pittance. When I heard the price I really distrusted its soundness but I took Mrs Norman to view it anyway and neither of us could find anything wrong. The stablemaster there told us how he'd raised that horse from a foal and that it was sold too cheaply for its quality. So we decided to take a slight risk.'

'Well, you won. They're a perfect match.'

'As you are with Liquor, but I think that is to your own credit. Yes, and your missus', Peter, I know she is the best at what she does.'

This turned the conversation to the difference between riding and driving, giving Nick the chance to check up on the young lovers, now having their own meal and chatting without any further discomfort. Time for him to find something useful to do, he'd probably not see Anne before they turned in tonight, and time always passed quicker when working. Maybe the steward could use some help ciphering, he usually let Nick add up the simpler columns with charges of the local producers, vegetables, meat and dairy mainly. He was a patient teacher and Nick could use the practise if he was to become more proficient in keeping accounts.

Having left Elizabeth in the confidence room to read Charlotte's letter, Darcy was quickly starting to regret his lenience towards her cousin, since being forgiven had made the chubby clergyman extraordinarily talkative. And if only he'd talked as sensibly as they now knew he could, but no, he was back to his usual obsequious manner but somehow coupled with a smug familiarity that was particularly offensive to Darcy. He would not be able to stand him and aunt Catherine for days whilst the explorers withdrew to their headquarters, they had to take their share of the burden or watch him driven to insanity.

'I pride myself on having seen quite a few great houses, Mr Darcy, but yours must be the largest and most beautiful so far. Your grounds are so extensive and so beautiful, and the villages! Your aunt told me the church in Clifton had once cost your esteemed father a thousand pounds to reshingle, or was it to refurbish as well? I've heard you do not have a private chapel? I suppose your ancestors believed in the power of community, a noble objective worthy of support.'

Darcy could hardly repress a smile, he guessed his grandfather and father hadn't been very eager to have a private chapel for fear of someone expecting them to actually use it. Having to go to a nearby village was an excellent reason to spend time on devotions only once a week on Sundays. Fortunately Mr Collins didn't expect an answer, he merely chattered on and Darcy's special talent was starting to work its magic again, filtering the incessant noise to a bearable level. Hopefully Manners would be done talking to his mother-in-law by now, he always sacrificed himself to spend some time on Mr Collins. Or dared they risk introducing Elizabeth's cousin to the prince? Darcy suspected he'd find the clergyman as diverting as Mr Bennet seemed to find him. His father-in-law would be sorry to miss his nephew, if they managed to get rid of aunt Catherine before the rest of their relatives arrived.

But when he returned to the drawing-room he heard that aunt Catherine had withdrawn to her own room to get some rest before dressing for dinner. She hadn't even waited for coffee! But apparently, elderly people didn't need as much food, and she was probably rather tired of her travels. Well, it would be time for dinner soon enough.

It did mean that Manners was free to distract Mr Collins for half an hour, but before he could sacrifice himself Georgie said kindly, 'Mr Collins, welcome. Would you like to sit with us and enjoy some music? We've just finished our practice and are ready to provide some entertainment.'

What was Georgie up to? Aunt Catherine lived all by herself, and now Georgie had practised in her presence? No wonder the poor woman had fled!

While Mr Collins looked at Darcy for permission to join the two pianists, Georgie addressed Manners.

'Would you mind helping us after that, Frederick? We've agreed to take the Zumpe upstairs to our headquarters to be able to practise without bothering anyone. I suppose Eric will find Nick himself, he still refuses to ring for anyone.'

Darcy said to Mr Collins, 'Please do what you like, Mr Collins, we're your relatives, not your employers, remember?'

The latter bowed and almost ran off, he was still as skittish as a lap-dog and small wonder after all he'd been through with aunt Catherine. As long as he didn't have to be in personal contact with Mr Collins Darcy could even pity him, though he really hoped the man would behave this time.

'Of course, Georgiana, I'm ready when you are,' Manners' calm voice replied to Georgie's question. He did not comment on ringing for someone, he did easily enough, for any other servant than Simon and Fowler.

Fielding and Georgie played for twenty minutes, on the Clementi, whereas they had been practising on the Zumpe. Even after days of listening to piano music, and sitting next to Anne still deep in conversation, Prince George immediately looked up and let himself be totally taken in by the quatre-mains they were performing ever better. It was just incredible, how could people's fingers move so quickly and with such agility?

When they were done, everyone applauded, Mr Collins and Prince George loudest of all. The prince seemed to have quite an interest in Elizabeth's homely cousin, he was obviously a man of the cloth, and to all apparent signs as fond of music as the prince was himself.

Fielding got up, smiled and bowed as if they were a real audience, then left the room, presumably to find Fowler, to help carry the piano upstairs. Darcy found himself glad that Anne had such a stable man to keep her from falling for the Prince of Wales, even though her relationship with a servant was totally improper. There were clearly degrees in indecency, and Darcy preferred his cousin to be in a lasting secret affair with someone totally anonymous, rather than have a temporary, and undoubtedly public, liaison with the heir to the British throne. These thoughts weren't even formed in his mind before he was thoroughly ashamed of his own arrogance, one would think Elizabeth had cured him of looking down on those less fortunate than himself. Fowler was truly an admirable fellow once one got to know him, he'd quickly learned to improve himself when given the chance, and Darcy had to wonder whether he would have been able to adapt so quickly and so thoroughly himself when taken out of his regular environment. Fowler didn't seem jealous at all over the prince's attentions towards Anne, and Mrs Reynolds said he was always pleased to help out anywhere, quickly and efficiently.

Whilst this was all going on in his mind, Georgie had changed from the Clementi to the Zumpe, and to Darcy's immense surprise she started to play the beginning of Fielding's first work! She, Elizabeth and Fielding himself could undoubtedly hear the difference between her playing and Fielding's, but Darcy really didn't, it was as if he was hearing his brother-in-law playing. Of course Darcy quickly checked the other connoisseur in their midst, and even Prince George was totally stunned. For ten minutes she played, and then Fielding returned with Fowler.

'Mrs Fielding, you are amazing!' the prince exclaimed. 'That was as good as your husband plays it, may I come over to your headquarters sometimes as long as I'm still staying? I'm afraid I have received a message from my advisor to remind me I cannot stay in hiding forever, but I'm hoping to put him off until Wednesday. May I please, please spend as much time with you as I did before you moved the piano?'

'Of course, Lord Chester,' Georgie replied calmly. 'We're merely going to practise upstairs to spare my aunt the constant jangling, you are welcome to join us there whenever you like. And you, too, Mr Collins.'

Now Anne got up and it soon became clear why, since she walked towards the piano with Prince George following her.

'Mr Collins, please let me introduce you to Lord Chester, who is actually Mr and Mrs Fielding's guest since he came over to hear them play, but who likes a friendly chat as well when the time is right.'

Mr Collins, remembering Darcy's admonishments no doubt, proved himself suitably flattered to have this important lord ask for an introduction and as such behaved perfectly, merely bowing as deeply as Prince George was actually due and showing himself a good deal more charming than usual by waiting for the prince to speak.

'Mr Collins, I'm pleased to meet another man who enjoys Mr and Mrs Fielding's music as profoundly as I do. Mrs Manners told me you are Mrs Darcy's cousin, and a clergyman?'

Obviously impressed, but still trying his hardest not to grovel or chatter, Mr Collins' reply was almost dignified.

'I am very pleased to meet you, Lord Chester, you bear your noble title with great dignity. I am indeed of the cloth, and I have always considered superior music like Mr Fielding's to be of as exalted a nature as the expressions of my calling.'

Prince George actually laughed at Mr Collins' wit, if the latter had meant that to be funny. Darcy had never known him to have any sense of humour.

'Your service must be one I'd like to attend, Mr Collins! If religious observation were to contain superior music as a matter of principle instead of sheer accident, I'd be a most devoted attendant in church. Maybe I should talk to my father about it, he has always wished me to be more faithful in my devotions.'

But indeed, Mr Collins did not start to explain how he'd meant that figuratively, so he probably had intended to make a joke, and a successful one.

'I'm afraid I haven't managed to find a parish filled with such talent, yet, Lord Chester, but if I do I will certainly let you know. I suppose your father has considerable patronage in the church, and of course he'd want his successor to be as knowledgeable as he must be himself.'

'Why Mr Collins,' the prince observed, tickled, 'you are so right, my father is indeed a very righteous man who faithfully observes his religious duties to give a prime example to those who look to him for guidance. If you'd manage to lure me to church with music of Mr Fielding's level of competence he'd be indebted to you forever. How would you go about it? I suppose you could not sing a sermon.'

'Absolutely out of the question, my lord,' Mr Collins said strictly, he was losing track of the joke, sadly. But Elizabeth would explain her cousin's character to Prince George, and he'd most likely be able to laugh about it.

'I could not sing a clear note to save my life. It's one of the great disappointments of my life. If I were to sing a single paragraph even my most faithful parishioners would flee instantly. I would put their souls at great risk.'

He did know how to make fun! Of himself, no less!

'I am sorry to hear that, though I am not a great singer myself, either. Where would you incorporate the music then, my good man?'

'Well, I suppose a well-trained choir of boys would be really nice. Could that possibly tempt you to attend church regularly?'

'Most certainly, yes, maybe they could bring some Bach, with a little quartet of strings as accompaniment. I'd be the first in my seat.'

'And I suppose we have to allow people to sing, but what if we'd sort them by voice? Those who are tone-deaf but insist on singing can sit together, and those who cannot sing but are content to listen can be seated by those who can?'

'Oh, yes, please!' Georgie exclaimed. 'Can we ask Mr Eliot to do that in our church? It's all I ask, I will happily forego on the boys' choir if I never have to hear that family right in front of us again. There's a dozen of them with the loudest voices imaginable, and not a single one of them can keep a tune.'

'I seriously think it would be easier to get a choir, dear Georgie. The Wilmarth family will never agree to sit between the common folk. Gramps Wilmarth made a fortune in trade and he has gotten so proud I think he has his eye on our pew.'

What? Why was everyone looking at him all of a sudden? He could contribute to a conversation, couldn't he, even if he didn't mind going to church that much?

'Well, maybe we should let him have it then, Fitzwilliam,' Georgie said, laughing, 'and build a new one for ourselves in the eastern wing, you know the Coopers always sit there, and they are as large a family with a reputation of having magnificent voices. All of them, even the spouses and the children.'

Now everyone laughed heartily, by now most of them knew the east wing was the poor side of the church, but fortunately talent was not restricted to the wealthy.

While they were talking, Manners and Fowler had quietly taken their places on each side of the little black Zumpe, and at Fielding's sign lifted its sturdy legs clean off the carpet. They slowly and steadily moved towards the doors, Fielding opening the second door to enlarge the opening to allow the instrument to pass through it unharmed. Georgie carried the stool and a small stack of music sheets, those pieces would not sound good on a Clementi and were therefore kept with this specific instrument.

Since pianos did not concern Darcy very much, he settled at the drawing-room table with his newspaper, handing Mr Collins half to keep him quiet. Elizabeth was standing near Prince George, they'd most likely discuss the hunt or something, he was not going to watch them chat, it was only going to irritate him. All the explorers would have gone with the piano, after an entire morning with aunt Catherine they would be eager to be together and do whatever pleased them. Hopefully they would be back in time for coffee but if not, all the more pie for him!

Anne had been very relieved when her mother fled the drawing-room to escape Georgiana's practising, Frederick had kept her occupied and Prince George had pulled rank on her to be able to keep her away from Anne, but still the very sight of her disconcerted Anne. What she really needed was a nice, warm embrace from Nick. Hopefully they'd find a moment later, once the piano was in its new place, just before coffee. It was still amazing to see the physical strength in her husband and her lover, they kept that piano perfectly still even going up two stairs. Small wonder Eric preferred to have them lift it, it would save on the tuning.

They did not take more than ten minutes to lift that hardwood piano to headquarters, and as soon as Nick had set his side down where Eric indicated, he walked right up to Anne and took her in his arms.

'I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me, my love.'

But he was here now, and she looked up at him with all the love and admiration she felt for him. She did not need words to tell him there was nothing to forgive, he could see it in her eyes. There had been no way for him to know that her mother was coming today, and if he had, he could not have come into the drawing-room just like that, not in Darcy's house. If they ever moved to Frederick's manor or who knew, Rosings, that would change, for Simon as well.

Protected by Nick's strong arms, her face and throat covered in those little tender kisses she'd loved so much from the very start of their involvement, Anne felt free to spill a few tears, it had been a difficult morning and she was so glad to see Nick.

'Was it that bad, my love? I thought you got your satisfaction last time you met? Did she say something horrible?'

He looked at her with such love and he was so strong and protective of her, it was impossible to stay sad or overwrought. Her voice sounded rather dry when she replied.

'She didn't. And I did get my due in the parsonage, I'm just not ready to see her, yet. Actually, it was quite entertaining to see her put in her place by a Lord Chester whom she'd never heard of. I just missed you so much.'

And she kissed him, with passion this time.

'Oh, I'm so sorry! Right place, wrong timing!'

That was Prince George's voice! What was he doing here?

'Don't be squeamish, Lord Chester, you've seen two people kiss before I'm sure. You can keep me company until the bell rings for coffee. Unless...you didn't bring Mr Collins, did you?'

'Of course not, I suspect he can be reasonably entertaining but only in very small doses, and I had a feeling he would not be welcome here. Because, yes, I admit I had a vague suspicion how things would be, I'm not insensible to the feelings of others, you know, I can imagine that must have been very upsetting to your lady. I'm sorry to disturb you, Mrs Manners, Nick, I should have stayed with our host and his charming wife.'

He indeed looked very sorry, but not so much for disturbing them in what was an improper display of intimacy. It was the proof of Anne's commitment to another man, a mere servant, that caused Prince George pain, and at the same time he had come looking for it. He needed to know how serious Anne's feelings for her guard were, and now he knew.

Nick didn't say anything, of course, he still had a vague fear of powerful men and they didn't get more powerful than this one. He merely held Anne close.

'Do come in, Lord Chester,' Anne now said, 'please don't mind us, it was hard on me to meet my mother so suddenly, and you did tell me you knew about Nick and myself. I suppose you expected to see this.'

'I did, Mrs Manners, though I did not want to I needed to see it with my own eyes. And you know what? I don't even mind that much, I'm going to take your husband up on his offer and keep him company until coffee, and then I'm going to enjoy Mrs Brewer's pie for I may not get any more of it for years. You know, I should be miserable to see you devoted to another but I'm not, I'm supremely happy because you are happy. You have all made me feel so welcome here, no exceptions, even Mr Darcy has thawed immensely, thanks to your advice, Mrs Manners. When I'm back in London, surrounded by sycophants and boot-lickers I'll remember your true friendship. Will you please come and visit, even if you do decide to risk your lives abroad?'

By now he was sitting beside Frederick, and it seemed the question was mostly for him, of course Frederick was a natural leader and by law he had the right to rule Anne as well as his servants, even more so. But not in fact.

'Thank you for your kind invitation, Lord Chester, but are you sure you want us around? Georgiana and Eric are perfectly civilised, but Anne's beauty will set all your courtiers against each other, vying for her attention. And Simon and Nick will wreak havoc in your servants' quarters, Simon turning the maidens' heads, Nick inadvertently distracting your lady's attendants.'

Prince George laughed heartily at this picture of his household after a visit by Mr Manners and his lovely new lady.

'And pray, Manners, what will be your role in this whole? Will you sit right in the middle of your web of intrigue like a large, incredibly well-dressed spider, pulling strings and taking notes?'

'I thought I'd just drink Madeira wine, eat chocolate cake and chat up Mrs Fitzherbert, Lord Chester.'

Frederick still had that college-boys' humour if he wanted to and Prince George recognised it and loved it.

'You are incorrigible, Manners, I really cannot imagine how anyone could ever think you'd get along with my father. He is a tremendous bore, you'd do much better to fall in with my crowd, they'll be much more to your liking.'

'But I'm trying so hard to improve, Your Highness, to be an impeccable gentleman living an immaculate life..'

'Why? To gain the respect of dullards at the risk of dying of boredom? Better deliver on what you promised your lady wife and live life to the full. There is no better place to do that than Carlton House, I assure you. Of course your reputation as the patron of the New Year's Eve Ball is already flawless, and yet an overly talkative bird told me your life behind the scenes certainly isn't, so in fact there is nothing for me to teach you, you've kept your naughty side from the papers so far which I certainly haven't managed to. I was planning to use your reputation to polish mine a little, then do whatever we like behind closed doors. But you have to know that your driver has a very loose tongue.'

Of course Frederick knew that, he actually cultivated Bates to spread tales of his master's preference for low women to keep anyone from suspecting he was actually very faithful to a single admirable man. And Frederick's most dangerous weakness towards the prince was wanting to prove himself very smart, which in this case would help Prince George shake free of the carefully planted gossip and possibly find Frederick's true affiliation. So please, please, let Frederick resist the temptation to prove himself even more devious than Prince George already realised!

'Bates? But he has been my driver for years and years! What did he tell you?'

Even his blunt impoliteness was played, and masterfully, Anne dared add, so much so that Prince George threw a doubtful glance at Anne before telling the absolute truth.

'He told me of veritable orgies taking place, with you and your college friends enjoying every single kind of booze known to man, strings of cheap ladies, strings he said literally, and of servants sometimes being rewarded with an hour with one pearl off those strings. And yet none of this was ever found out by reporters?'

The usual stuff, good, Bates still swallowed his master's smoke screen. But if Frederick didn't act this out right, Prince George wouldn't much longer. Frederick took his time framing a reply, but not because he was in any way surprised or ashamed. Though of course he did have to weigh his words carefully.

'Well, I have to admit I have been known to throw certain parties for my friends,' Frederick now admitted, 'but not since Miss de Bourgh stole my heart.'

Which was absolutely true.

'But how did you keep that from the press?'

'Before my association with Mr Fielding no-one particularly cared about anything I did besides the Ball. I'm afraid I'm not that important, Lord Chester.'

Which the heir to the throne certainly was. It seemed as if he was going to accept Frederick's excuse that he no longer did such despicable things.

'I would love to play the game on a higher level, Lord Chester, cheap amusements do not suit my new status in life, you know, as husband to a beautiful and deserving woman. I'd like our new entertainments to give her pleasure as well.'

'A game for all of you to play in the thick of society, seek no further, Manners, Mrs Manners, I am your man. You will get to know everyone who matters, know everything others don't but wish they did, and you will let the reporters believe what you want them to. As soon as you are ready to start playing, send word to me, and I will offer you the world. My world.'

Somehow, Anne believed he could, even more so than Frederick himself. And somehow, it was as if Nick was also included in this invitation, and felt himself so. Then Eric broke their conversation by saying, 'The piano isn't too badly out of tune, we can adjust it this afternoon. Would you care to join us, Lord Chester? And do you mind if Mr Collins does, too?'

'I'd love to, and no, I don't mind that funny man's presence. But your mentioning him reminds me of something, or rather someone, I just saw in the hall whom you may want to be careful of: it was a woman of about forty, conservatively dressed, and she was snooping around. I'd never seen her before and she did not look like a maid, so I guess she is Lady de Bourgh's personal attendant. When I stopped and took a good look at her she seemed inclined to challenge me but then thought the better of it and went down the stairs.'

'Did she have a crooked nose or a moustache?' Anne immediately wanted to know, though mother's ladies were equally bad.

'Now that you mention it, she did have a rather singular shadow under her perfectly shapely nose.'

'Miss Bergman. If she would just shave that moustache she could have easily caught herself a nice husband and spared herself the agony of waiting on my mother. She is the least dragonish of the two, I suppose if your housekeeper tells her to stay off the second floor she'll oblige.'

'Thank you, Lord Chester,' Georgiana said, 'Anne, Frederick, I'll take care of it. You're our guests, you have a right to your private space, we can't have aunt Catherine threatening our hospitality.'

'I can keep an eye on the stairs, Mrs Fielding, and send any servant but the one maid assigned to this floor packing.'

Dear Nick, he still took his professed occupation so seriously.

'I'm certain Mrs Reynolds will solve this quite beautifully, Nick, but if this lady doesn't mind her instructions you may put the fear of, well, you, in her. And Nick, this is headquarters, in here I'm Georgiana. Lord Chester knows you are our friend and not actually Anne's guard. Though maybe Mr Collins shouldn't know.'

'I am very certain that Nick is still very much Mrs Manners' guard, Mrs Fielding. Especially with Lady de Bourgh in the house.'

Well, Prince George had seen that very accurately, and Anne rather wondered why he didn't make an issue of Georgiana insisting Nick call her by her first name and not of the prince using her husband's name. It probably made him feel very much left out, but Frederick had insisted they be formal with Prince George at all times.

'I do feel much safer now he is back at my side. May we spend a lot of time in here as well? I want to see as little as possible of my mother, Lord Chester.'

'I understand, and Nick, I do not object to your presence, you are a part of this group and I am the guest here. Besides, if we do meet in London I intend to present you as a northern relative of Mr Manners. You can then drink Madeira wine, eat chocolate and chat up Mrs Fitzherbert to your heart's content, breaking hearts left and right if it pleases you. As long as you're careful, some of the ladies in my court are very easily swayed and they do not take no for an answer.'

Anne could see what he was doing, he was offering an alternative for the continent, and if they did decide to stay put they would be pleased to accept, especially if Nick could enjoy society with them. Though that would leave Simon all by himself, something neither Frederick nor Nick would be pleased to accept. But all that was not yet of any concern, first they had a long summer with all kinds of outdoor activities before them, which Anne was determined to relish with her newly found esprit.


	150. Chapter 150

Chapter 160

Simon was now counting the days to Wednesday, since apparently that was when Prince George would leave. He could no longer enjoy his time with the devilishly clever prince, he was so afraid to slip and tell him something he shouldn't. Though there was something Simon would be able to use to keep a conversation going without actually talking of anything relevant, and that was Miss Bergman's ill-advised visit to the second floor, during which the prince had caught her.

'Mrs Reynolds, our housekeeper, wishes to thank you for your actions this afternoon, Your Highness. She has confronted Miss Bergman with her behaviour and admonished her not to intrude on the explorers' floor again. I know Miss Bergman rather well, and I'm reasonably certain she will obey.'

It seemed to work, for the prince picked up the subject and replied, 'It was my pleasure to help all of you. You know, before I decided to follow the rest upstairs I felt a little superfluous, you're such a close-knit group, then when I had decided I dared try to be part of that for the remaining days of my visit they were all gone and I had to make my own way upstairs. So I did, and found myself alone on your second floor, making my way to headquarters. At that moment I felt like an intruder myself, as if I was spying on the people I have come to like very much, and in a way I had come there to spy, to see Mrs Manners with her guard, to see whether I had any chance to compete with him.

But when I saw this unknown woman flitting from door to door I recognised a real spy, with bad intentions. I stared at her until she fled, I suppose I have my moments of authority and this was one, I didn't think she would be back even without a formal reprimand. I hope she didn't see anything relevant, she was still on Mr and Mrs Fielding's side of the stairs, not where your rooms are. Your sleeping arrangements are somewhat untraditional, she should not find that out. Better warn your housekeeper to keep that maid serving my room away from the second floor, she is as talkative as Manners' driver and possibly less gullible. For I do think Manners was pleased to hear the gossip his man had told me. He is deep, I like him immensely, most people are so easily seen through but he has layer upon layer to his character.'

Prince George might call Pauline talkative but he sure had plenty to say himself. And he was not done, yet.

'Well, of course I hadn't a chance with Mrs Manners, she was in her guard's arms, he was kissing her with intense love, such a strong man and totally at her feet, it was so romantic. Manners was looking on with satisfaction, but he saw me as soon as I came in. He invited me in, I suppose you've heard all of that by now. Mrs Manners excused herself beautifully but in fact it was I who had to excuse myself, I was the intruder. But I had to see that, now I know she is happy and her husband doesn't object at all. And for a moment I managed to feel myself included in their midsts, only you were lacking. Then we all went downstairs for coffee, but only after I'd told them about the intruder. I cannot stand the thought of Mrs Manners and her brave man being found out, I had to do something. Nor Manners himself. His mother-in-law's maid must not discover his secret, I want you all to visit me at Carlton House as my most respectable friends.'

Hints, allusions, innuendo, this was not going to change, was it? Simon bowed down before the prince's irrefutable curiosity, Prince George would not be stopped.

'I'm certain my master is very glad Miss Bergman did not get away with her snooping, Your Highness.'

There came a moment for every servant when only humble formality was left as a form of passive protest, and with Prince George it worked better than anyone else Simon had been forced to use it on, excepting Frederick, of course, but he had fallen in love with Simon almost instantly so that didn't count. This time was no exception.

'Dammit, Simon, you're a true master at making a man feel terribly guilty! And I didn't even expect you to tell me anything, I was just ranting because I'd my sights set on your mistress and she is obviously not meant for me! Please forgive me, don't leave me here unwashed and scarcely dressed, you know the power is entirely yours, I'm helpless before you, without your kind attentions I am doomed to look dishevelled and smell worse. I do respect all of you so much, not just your master and mistress, you, too, and your dangerous friend.'

But then, Prince George himself was a master of pathos, like a tragic hero from an ancient Greek tale. Simon couldn't help himself, he did like the man a lot, and at this moment he looked positively repentant in a comical way.

'All right, I'll forgive you. But you do make me very nervous with your innuendo, Your Highness, I am only a lowly servant with no-one to protect me if I anger you.'

'Simon, I would never be angry with you for refusing to talk about people who are more your friends than anything else. And even if that were to anger me, I know you're not a mere servant, and I'm certain Manners will protect you from anyone. No, don't look at me like that, you don't have to say anything, you may ignore anything I say. I know I talk too much, people keep telling me to let another get a word in edgewise. Actually, Maria does, no-one else has ever dared to. Mother would have, but she didn't get the chance, I was a quiet child. Please be kind to me, Simon, and ignore me if I say something you don't want to hear.'

Yes, he was very likeable, and as cute as a forty-year-old man could be. By now the prince was wearing his nightshirt, his hair had been combed and his skin was glossy with a thorough cleaning. Simon suppressed an inclination to ruffle his hair as too familiar, and rather flattened the collar of the nightshirt with a gentle stroke. That would have to do as reconciliation.

Prince George looked up and smiled sweetly.

'So I am really forgiven, that makes me happy. I'll not test your patience much longer, I'm leaving on Wednesday, I'd have liked to stay a lot longer but I have obligations in town. I'm hoping that Mr and Mrs Fielding will get very bored out here and come to London for summer, they hinted as much. Mr Fielding can be the forerunner for the lot of you, with your long pantaloons and newfangled hairstyles. Then when they're used to seeing those, you can come over and introduce the black cravat.'

Yes, Simon really wanted to do that, but he could not imagine it ever happening, not the black cravats, not because of him, a simple valet could not have such an influence on style. But the prince's kindness meant that Simon left his room much happier than he had been just minutes ago. And in five minutes he would be with Frederick, who would indeed protect him from anything. Except Prince George's talking!

Fitzwilliam had convinced Elizabeth to continue her riding lessons despite his aunt's presence, dressed in the same split skirts as always, joining Frederick, Nick and Anne in the paddock for a lesson in carousel formation riding. It was great fun to ride figures together, this moment turning corners together in two pairs, the next splitting the group of horses and riders to left and right, then joining again on the other side of the paddock. Riding at the same speed and getting their horses to turn away from the others was still a challenge, and keeping the inside horses from walking or trotting too fast as well, so they rode only the simplest figures, large circles or at most a few eights, cutting across the riding paddock one by one a small taste of what was to come once they gained proficiency.

After an hour they were all tired but very pleased, it was as if the horses were starting understand what their riders expected from them, they were matching their pace and had stopped protesting the separations, as if they knew they'd come back together a few moments later.

Anne and Nick were reluctant to stop riding, of course they wanted to stay together, and Anne didn't want to sit with her mother. Elizabeth didn't mind walking Barley dry herself to give them a few more moments together, if she and Frederick went back to the house it would make a wrong impression on the stable staff. Better take half an hour extra and return as a group.

That meant poor Fitzwilliam would be stuck with his aunt in the drawing-room that much longer without her, fortunately he wasn't all by himself, Georgiana and Eric were there, and Prince George. And Mr Collins, of course. As far as Elizabeth knew her cousin had kept his promise to not snoop around, apparently Lady Catherine had given that task to her personal maid, who had been caught exploring the second-floor bedrooms by no-one less than Prince George, who had used his natural authority to chase her off.

Georgiana had described the scene at headquarters, and she didn't seem to think much of the prince's knowledge of Anne's involvement with Nick.

'He doesn't really care, you know,' she'd said, 'he just wants to have a good time with Eric's music and people he likes. He loves intrigue, but just to figure it out, not to do anything with his findings. I like him, a lot, though I know he doesn't treat the women in his life well.'

Frankly, Elizabeth couldn't imagine Prince George planning to bring Frederick down even if he was clearly trying to find out why the latter accepted Anne loving her guard, he probably even knew Frederick had married Anne knowing she loved another. Frederick had to be hiding something, and if Elizabeth had missed that piece of information she would have tried to fill it in, too, maybe not as persistently as the prince did according to the others, mostly poor Simon, but she'd also see it as a challenge. Who wouldn't? And what could they do? They couldn't throw him out, he was heir to the throne! But she hoped her comments yesterday would help especially Simon a little, the poor fellow was worn to a thread with fear of betraying himself and Frederick. Everything else, the prince had already found out.

With the horses walked dry and Anne and Nick resigned to parting once they were back at the house, all four of them handed over the reins of their own horse to a stable-boy. Elizabeth would have offered to watch them turned out in their paddocks together to see them roll in the sand to get rid of the pressure of saddle and rider on their backs, another half hour for Anne and Nick, but she really needed to return, she still had to clean up and change, and Fitzwilliam would be eager for her company.

Once out of earshot of the staff, Frederick echoed Elizabeth's thoughts.

'Why don't you just retreat to headquarters together? You don't have to be in your mother's presence, Anne dear, she is not your visitor. I suppose Georgiana and Eric are planning to escape as soon as possible, and I bet they'll take Lord Chester along. Oh, but they promised Mr Collins he might join them, in that case you'd better take this morning together or you'll never get a moment's privacy.'

Nick looked hopeful, but Anne seemed still in doubt. No wonder, for it would be a bit of a slight to avoid her mother.

'Just go, you two, I'll make up a beautiful excuse, she only remembers you dead tired, you could easily be resting. And Nick, you and Simon can come to headquarters, too, just be careful with infatuated looks and kisses. I know I'm the worst offender, I'll be very alert. Will you tell Simon? I suppose I'm going to spend some time on my mother-in-law now.'

Which Elizabeth had to as well, actually she would have preferred to meet her real mother-in-law instead of her sister, from what she'd heard Fitzwilliam's mother had been really kind, but she now had to make do with Lady Catherine.

Taking the turn towards the front of the house where she'd met Fitzwilliam on that fateful day of her visit to view the house with aunt and uncle Gardiner, which had ultimately led to their reconciliation and eventual marriage, Elizabeth was just in time to see a carriage driving towards them, to the stables, avoiding the front of the house. She was still wondering who would visit without sending word when she recognised the team and the carriage itself: it was their own London carriage with the slow-footed mares pulling it! Why? Mrs Annesley could send an express if anything was amiss in London, couldn't she? That would be ever so much faster!

Now she recognised the new stable boy driving, and Frederick had spotted the familiarity of the carriage as well.

'Elizabeth, that looks like your London carriage. Are you expecting someone? Bingley and Lascelles have their own rigs, and your aunt and uncle wouldn't even fit with their children and staff.'

'I'm as surprised as you are, and I won't hesitate to admit that I'm starting to feel a little apprehensive. Who can that be?'

Well, it wouldn't take long to find out since the carriage was approaching rapidly, the driver bowing respectfully before his mistress and her companions. Elizabeth signalled him to stop, which he did, miraculously just where she could see whom he had driven on a three-or-four-day trip with a team and conveyance meant to be used in town only. The horses didn't look the worse for wear as far as Elizabeth could tell, but they weren't very fast unless driven at the top of their endurance.

And then her worst nightmare came to life right in front of her as she first discerned Mrs Annesley, looking rather apprehensive but also, well, alive, and beautiful, and then beside her... oh my, that was papa!

Her very own father, who she thought was a respectable gentleman, come to Pemberley without his wife and child but with his daughter's married housekeeper! In Fitzwilliam's carriage, unasked!

Of course her father only waved, then knocked on the carriage window to have the driver continue, he didn't care a jot what Elizabeth or her husband thought. He lived life as pleased him, he'd make a great companion for Prince G...oh my God!

Turning towards Frederick and Anne, Elizabeth blurted out, 'That was my father, with Mrs Annesley instead of my mother, and we have Prince George here!'

'And my mother, Elizabeth,' Anne observed dryly, 'I don't envy you and Darcy, but for myself I'm looking forward very much to the coming days. All the potential for mischief in our combined families come together with our royal visitor. I'm going to try to enjoy it.'

'You're forgetting Mr Collins, Anne,' Frederick added, with a laugh that nonetheless expressed his sympathy to Elizabeth. 'Do you want us to warn Darcy whilst you give your father a warm welcome? At least he didn't drive up to the house.'

For once, Elizabeth was totally overcome, her father with Mrs Annesley? Were they...intimate? They had always liked each other, she knew that, but she thought they had been proper, keeping a distance. Mrs Annesley's husband was seriously ill!

'Mrs Darcy?'

Nick had a hand on her shoulder, and he obviously understood her train of thought, it was as if he had known all along. She looked up at him to find his expression understanding, and his mind obviously worked quicker than her own.

'With your permission I can come with you and help Mrs Annesley along to the servants' quarters while you accompany your father? Take her luggage so the stable staff won't have to?'

Yes, that was it, separate them immediately, he shouldn't be encouraged to play games with her mother's affections. Even as she thought that she knew it was ridiculous. She liked Prince George, who routinely cheated on both his legal wife and his illegal one with married women. If her father made his life a little more enjoyable, and did it discreetly, was she to condemn him just because he was her father?

She shook her head to clear it of the implications of her father's behaviour and tried to frame a reply for Nick.

'Please, Nick, I'd appreciate that very much. I'm rather upset. You knew, didn't you?'

Now Anne and Frederick looked their question, they saw the slight impropriety of a gentleman travelling with a servant, but Mrs Annesley was as genteel as most ladies.

'I saw your father in the back of the house once, ma'am, though I didn't know who he was until he went to a concert with Anne. Simon was shocked and asked me to keep it quiet, so I did.'

Yes, some things were bad enough to shock even Simon. Now Anne and Frederick started to understand and looked at her with compassion, not disgust or even disapproval.

'Thank you, Nick, I suppose that is the only thing we can do. Frederick, Anne, would you please tell Fitzwilliam the facts? I'll take care of the rest myself, later. Now, tell me frankly, do you think we should put my father on the first floor and Mrs Annesley in the back of the house, or do we give them both a room on the second floor with you lot?'

'It will save on the nightly traffic, ma'am,' Nick replied drolly, and of course he was right. The chances of her father staying put in his room were negligible, and any sneaking on the first floor bore a significant risk of discovery by either Lady Catherine or her maid, who was in and out of her mistress' room at the strangest hours.

And besides, Elizabeth had a sneaking suspicion her father knew about Anne and Nick at the very least, he'd said some things in the carriage just after Georgiana's wedding that suggested he'd found out somehow. There had also been a hint of what was going on between himself and Mrs Annesley, but Elizabeth hadn't wanted to pick it up, she realised now.

'I suppose Nick is right, though it makes our situation a bit forced,' Frederick observed. 'But I suppose we'll just have to live with that the coming fortnight or so, with all our friends and your family arriving. We will manage, though I suppose Eric and Georgiana's side of the floor would be best.'

Nick nodded, he'd make sure those rooms were made ready and that Mrs Annesley found a suitable welcome, which was a great relief to Elizabeth for she really did have to talk to papa before setting him loose on Prince George and Lady Catherine.

They split in two pairs right there, Anne and Frederick on their way to Fitzwilliam to warn him Mr Bennet had arrived with Mrs Annesley instead of his spouse, Elizabeth and Nick to the stables to receive their latest arrivals.

'I'm sorry you had to find out this way, ma'am,' Nick observed, 'but there was no way I could have told you. I lived in near-constant fear of you and Mr Darcy at that time.'

'I understand that, Nick, especially since Simon rightfully asked you to keep quiet about it. What would have changed if I'd known? There is nothing I can do to stop my father except expose him, and that wouldn't help in any way. I suppose it was right in front of me all this time, they liked each other so much, and frankly, they're an excellent match. If only my father had taken the trouble to look for a woman of that calibre before he married in the first place. But he had to decide in favour of the first pretty face he met in the nearest village. I'm glad Fitzwilliam took more trouble than that or my sisters and I would all have been in a difficult situation by now, instead of being happily settled.'

Only then did what he'd also said register.

'You're not afraid of us anymore, are you?'

'No, ma'am, you've been more than kind. Mr Darcy, too, though I'm still not entirely comfortable around him.'

'Not even after wiping the floor with him wrestling?'

That gained her a tiny smile, and she understood all over again why a relatively plain-looking man like Nick had never lacked lovers.

'Especially after fighting him, I'm stronger and have more experience fighting dirty, but there is a fire in him that I've rarely seen in a gentleman. People say you've tamed him and in a certain way I believe them. He'd never attack someone physically, but there is something about your husband that makes me wary to raise his ire.'

'His good opinion once lost is lost forever, that is what he once said about himself when we'd just met. But it's not true at all, Mrs Reynolds' description was closer to his true nature than his own. She said that people called him proud because he didn't rattle away like other men. That is my beloved, he merely seems severe because he doesn't try to make himself agreeable. You know he has come to like you a lot, don't you?'

'I did hope he didn't disapprove of me anymore, ma'am.'

'If you keep a close eye on him next time you meet you'll notice it's more than that. We're here, Nick, I need to see my father alone before he meets our visitors. Will you arrange their rooms with the butler or Mrs Reynolds? I'd be very much obliged.'

'Of course, Mrs Darcy, your wish is my command.'

The tone at which he delivered the statement confirmed Elizabeth's guess, he liked her and wanted to do her a favour, he was not part of their staff after all. And frankly, she preferred his and Simon's company to aunt Catherine's, and maybe even her father's, but duty obliged her to stay with the old relatives instead of the young crowd. She just hoped Lady Catherine would produce those letters to reward Elizabeth for her patience.

'Thank you very much, Nick, you're saving if not our lives, hopefully at least our credibility as respectable people. My own father!'

Nick dared to speak up, and surprisingly mildly.

'I suppose your father needs a little love, too, Mrs Darcy. Please don't be too hard on him, Mrs Annesley is a very superior woman and she has had a very hard time, for years according to Simon. I suppose she needed a little comfort and one thing led to another.'

He was right, of course Elizabeth knew all that, living with Mary and their mother couldn't be altogether bearable either, even though both were in perfect health. Feeling less and less certain of her own indignation she prepared to greet Mrs Annesley as kindly as ever.

'I suppose you're right, Nick. I'll try, he has always been a good father to me. Thank you.'

He bowed in acknowledgement and fell into place behind her, waiting patiently for the moment his services were required. Elizabeth had always taken servants for granted, but lately it was getting harder to hold onto the natural order of her world, where her own people were supposed to be morally superior and more talented than those who served them. When in fact some of those were clearly much more capable and deserving of respect, and in all honesty, much better suited as friends since they had something interesting to say. So how to fittingly reproach papa for choosing to befriend someone talented with excellent manners and conversation?

Had Mrs Darcy changed significantly since Nick first met her? She seemed so much less formal than she had been, and somehow less above him. Of course Nick was a few years older than her and a man of the city, whereas Mrs Darcy had grown up rather protected in the country, as far away as possible from what Nick was inclined to see as the real world. With no male siblings, a supremely foolish mother if Simon was to be believed, and a smart but indolent father, one would expect her to be rather naïve, and yet she wasn't. Somehow, she seemed more worldly-wise than her much better educated husband, and she was much more outgoing to people in general.

But not to her staff, not at first at least. Simon had described his earlier bond with Mr Darcy as very close, apparently they had been like brothers. That had ended with Mrs Darcy pointing out to her adoring husband that he was favouring his valet over the other staff, resulting in jealousy and bullying. But if Nick were to form an opinion now, he'd say Mr Darcy was the strict one and Mrs Darcy almost familiar with her staff, at least with Simon, Nick, Fanny and Mrs Norman. And yet, of those only Fanny was actually staff, Mrs Norman was very independent and Mrs Darcy's teacher, and Simon and Nick were Frederick's servants and not even that. Simon didn't even get wages, he had his own fortune to provide any extras he needed.

Just before Mrs Darcy greeted her father and his mistress, Nick would never say it out loud but it was very obvious to him at least that something was going on between those two, he decided the difference was that Nick's involvement with Anne had come out: before that, Mrs Darcy had been kind, but not as familiar as she was now. So familiar he dared advise her to be mild and understanding to her father. Nick did not judge Mr Bennet to be someone to take kindly to his daughter interfering in his private affairs, or affair in this case, and Mrs Darcy really loved her father, a falling-out would hurt her far more than a little scandal in the family would. They'd all take care it didn't go very far, the Pemberley servants were close-knit and close-mouthed, and Bates didn't even know who Mr Bennet was. And if he did get wind of it, Nick could easily cow him into silence, they worked for the same master now and Bates was not a brave man.

'Papa, you're a few days early, we didn't expect you until next week! And where are mother and Mary? Not indisposed I hope?'

Oh, yes, Mr Bennet was fond of this daughter and much, much less confident about this mad scheme of his than Nick had thought. Guilt practically oozed off him, and poor Mrs Annesley didn't know where to look. Then the elderly gentleman composed himself and did what he had to be aching to do: he took his favourite daughter in a firm embrace. When they had also kissed heartily, he was back to his usual confident self.

Nick was glad of his status as servant for it meant he did not have to do anything until addressed, he might have greeted Mrs Annesley but he'd much rather watch the interaction between father and daughter. Maybe Mrs Annesley did, too, to know where she stood during her stay here.

'My dear Lizzy, you grow more beautiful every day, you look positively radiant! I've missed you so much, and I was dying for a sensible conversation, so I decided to come a little early to have you to myself for a few days. Though I cannot remember Darcy having a fancy for outrageously sized carriages, which suggests you have other visitors. I hope I'm not inconveniencing you in any way.'

He said that, but Nick could hear he didn't mind a bit, he knew his daughter loved him and would receive him with open arms. Except for that one tiny matter...

'Oh, and your mother and sister are both better than ever, it's just that I didn't expect them to really enjoy the company here at Pemberley, so I proposed their finally going to Brighton for a fresh sea breeze and a glimpse of some red coats, since your husband saw fit to rob Mr Wickham of his shoot-me-now uniform.'

Which meant he had dumped his silly wife to enjoy the superior company all the more. Not a bad decision considering their present visitors, Lady de Bourgh and Mrs Bennet would not make an elegant ensemble. And Mrs Darcy would very much prefer Prince George not to set eyes on her mother, that was a certain thing. Mr Bennet now continued, almost apologetically.

'So I rode to London on horseback, since your mother had the carriage, and stopped at your house there because the weather was atrocious and to see how Mrs Annesley was doing. We've been writing, you see. I decided I'd spare myself the wet ride and convinced Mrs Annesley to lend me the carriage. And when I found out she had some things she needed to discuss with you and Darcy I talked her into coming along for a few days. I can get a ride back from one of your sisters, I'd prefer to ride with sensible people but your aunt and uncle will have their carriage filled up with children, maids and toys.'

Of course Mrs Darcy was by now totally won over by her father's usual biting humour, though his allusion to Mrs Annesley's situation was a bit worrying. With her husband fading there was so much scope for tragedy in her situation.

Mrs Darcy seemed to think the same thing, for she nodded to acknowledge her father taking responsibility for bringing the carriage, then turned towards the Darcy's London housekeeper and offered to shake hands like gentlemen did among each other.

'Mrs Annesley, that sounds rather worrying, I hope your husband hasn't taken a turn for the worse?'

The housekeeper took her mistress' hand and shook it, then replied, 'Sadly, yes, it cannot be much longer now. Not days, but weeks at the most. Mr Bennet assured himself of Mr Annesley and our children being taken care of properly, and then he convinced me to come here with him. I am in need of some advice on how to proceed with the centre piece, and I thought I needed to show you what I have done so far to be able to progress, it just cannot wait until winter. But I'll be glad to return to London as soon as this matter is resolved.'

Mrs Darcy's father had visited Mr Annesley?

'I'm sorry to hear that, Mrs Annesley. Of course I will be at your disposal to look at your work so you can proceed. We have two separate but rather important guests that I have to spend some time with, but I suppose you will want to take some rest first after such a long journey. If you would please follow Nick, he will have a room prepared for you on our second floor, with those we call the explorers, Mr and Mrs Fielding, Mr and Mrs Manners and Nick and Simon. They're planning to go to the continent and spend a lot of time together.'

Mrs Annesley was happy enough to leave with Nick, giving Elizabeth the time to talk to her father. Imagine watching someone you loved die, the very thought of losing Fitzwilliam was enough to make Elizabeth feel like crying.

'Lizzy, my dear, whatever is the matter? I hoped you'd see the humour in the situation, was I wrong?'

He was so very sweet, she could not stay angry with papa, but good father or not he had his duty to his wife. The feeling of intense sadness was gone as quickly as it had come up, leaving her surprised to be so over-sensitive.

'I have no idea why that happened, papa. Thinking of Mr Annesley I suddenly imagined Fitzwilliam dying and that really upset me.

Papa, we have not just Lady Catherine over but also someone truly important: the Prince of Wales is here. We call him Lord Chester because he wants to meet the real Lady Catherine and she would not show herself to the heir to the throne. He adores Eric's music and came over to hear him play.'

'Getting emotional, my dear Lizzy, you must be with child! Congratulations, you'll be able to spoil your own child instead having to ruin Jane's.'

Elizabeth did not see any reason to deny her father's remark, he was right, this might be the first real sign to confirm it.

'I suppose that may be true, papa, though it's a bit early to tell.'

'Are you still afraid?'

'No, not really, and with Jane expecting I'll be able to share the experience. I just wish she lived closer.'

'That may happen sooner than you think, my dear, they've hired someone to help them find an estate of their own. But what's up with your royal visitor? The Prince of Wales, no less, I bet Darcy wasn't pleased to see him turn up, I've noticed he has a jealous streak and our crown prince has this reputation with smart women.'

See, it was better that she'd decided in an instant to tell him the truth, he would have found out anyway.

'You are not wrong, but papa, Prince George prefers his women a bit more sophisticated than me. He sees and hears everything, please be careful around him, especially as long as Mrs Annesley is here. And do take care you don't get caught on your way to her room.'

Silence. Then: 'You know?'

'Papa! How could I not? All right, I didn't know. Not until I saw you in that carriage together. Nick knew, he saw you in the back of the house one day, in town. Simon asked him to keep that to himself and he did.'

'Do I disappoint you, my dear Lizzy?'

'Well, yes, of course. I used to admire you so much, but since you let Lydia go to Brighton I've come to realise more and more that you're not perfect. You made some pretty bad mistakes in your life and in raising us, and now this? Adultery, papa?'

He bowed his head in shame, but Elizabeth could see he didn't feel it that much, he was not that sorry at all.

'I'm truly sorry, my dear, that you had to find out I'm not perfect. It's called growing up, and you've been doing it at an alarming rate. Can we talk about it sometime soon? I want to know what you think went wrong, though of course I have a pretty good idea myself. But Lizzy, it does make me very proud of you. You chose the right partner, you conquered your own pride to see his qualities, and now you are the perfect lady but you also respect your staff.

I know what Mrs Annesley and I are doing is very bad, but we've decided to do it anyway. Her husband knows and approves, your mother must never know, of course, my life with her is bad enough as it is. Marrying her was the worst mistake I ever made, and though it has gained me you and Jane, I find that it is still possible to rue that foolish decision more every single day of my life. Must I really pay for one mistake by never being able to love again? When Mrs Annesley is as lonely as I am and such perfect company?'

Elizabeth conceded, how could she not in the face of such a heartfelt plea, knowing what she did now, that far fewer people than she'd ever thought took their marital vows seriously.

'Nick did ask me to be mild, said we all needed love and Mrs Annesley was having a hard time, for years already.'

'Nick is the fellow just now who took Mrs Annesley to the house, isn't he? Didn't he work for some London gentleman as a servant? You never used to talk to servants. Let me rephrase that, your mother talks to servants, you apparently converse with them since you also listen to them, but you never used to. What advice does he have to give that your husband cannot? They seem much of an age and Darcy is certainly very sensible.'

Now Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh, her father worried she liked a servant too much? Wasn't that the pot calling the kettle black?

'It is the fellow just now, yes. And the thing he has that Fitzwilliam lacks, despite his age, is experience with love. I'm intensely glad Fitzwilliam waited for ten years to find the perfect woman, and even more glad I turned out to be the love of his life, and that he persisted in trying to win me. But all those ten years, Nick was out there, loving countless ladies, gaining experience. And if he respectfully asks me to forgive you for needing a little love I am inclined to listen to him. You were right, papa, I have grown up a lot, and I have found that I like some of our own walk of life a lot less than the people I live with. So I tend to talk to and listen to whom I like now.

Do you want Mrs Annesley in the drawing-room with us? I can try to convince Fitzwilliam to let her be company here, she is a lady in every respect.'

'Thank you, dear Lizzy, but it would focus attention on our travelling together, which was of course rather improper, and that would be dangerous, we cannot afford to be found out. We will meet in the library and, yes, at night. Maybe we can pester your friends in their headquarters now and then? Your sister-in-law and her husband are after all the only ones among them with a traditional marriage, I suppose they will be less inclined to judge.'

The less said about that the better, though she was dying to know how much he'd found out. Now Elizabeth needed to change and sit with Lady Catherine, she'd see her father later, as well as Mrs Annesley.

'I'm sorry, papa, but I have to run. There is something we need from Lady Catherine and I'm afraid that means I have to be polite to her as much as Fitzwilliam. And juggling the conversation between her and Lord Chester, with Mr Collins undoubtedly making a nuisance of himself, will be quite a challenge to him. He sacrificed his own morning ride to allow me mine, said she is his aunt, not mine. Though I suppose he wants her to see me in riding skirts, and to prove my independence to his aunt, he is still very proud of my impertinence.'

'I'm glad of that, dear Lizzy, for I do not think you'll ever learn better. If you want something important from Lady de Bourgh I suppose it is wise of your husband not to leave you two by yourselves. But those skirts look great on you, and I cannot wait to see you ride astride.

Well, I won't keep you any longer. I'll just check on my room and my companion, and then I'll join you wherever you are and try to behave. Lady Catherine, Mr Collins and Prince George, my dear Lizzy, however inconvenient my sudden arrival must be to you, I'm glad to impose on you, I foresee great entertainment! But tell me, Lizzy, didn't Darcy forbid my nephew entrance to his houses?'

'He did, yes, after finding him snooping and stealing in London. But since Lady Catherine practically forced Mr Collins to come my beloved found it in his heart to have mercy on him.'

'Well, well, that is quite magnanimous of him. I'm glad you didn't take my advice and married him anyway, my dear. Imagine, Mr Collins at Pemberley after all, dear Will can liven up the most boring family party just by being himself.'


	151. Chapter 151

Chapter 161

As soon as they were out of earshot, Mrs Annesley's attitude changed from dignified to, well, Nick couldn't exactly find a word for it but it mostly resembled a cross between despair and outright panic. In a totally unfamiliar display of feeling, one she would normally consider highly improper even towards a relatively unconnected fellow servant, she grabbed his arm and burst out, 'Oh, Fowler, what have I done? She knew, Mrs Darcy knew, I could see it! It will all come out, and then I'll not only be a widow, but out of a position as well and unable to pay for our house and food for my children! How will I ever find a new situation without references? He said it would be fun, and that I deserved some fun, he can be so persuasive. And he really isn't a bad man, I do love him, you know. You already knew, didn't you? Is there somewhere we can talk before I have to face Mrs Reynolds and the master?'

Was Nick underestimating Mr Darcy's reaction when he found out? Mr Bennet was not his host's relation but his wife's, and men generally had more tolerance for adultery, though somehow Nick didn't think Mr Darcy was a typical man in that respect. He'd actually taken ten years to find the perfect woman to marry. Which could only mean that he had very little experience with women, and yet he inspired plenty of respect in Nick. Apparently no less in Mrs Annesley. What to say to her?

'I saw Mr Bennet in the back of the house in London and it soon became clear what he was doing there. Simon asked me to keep it quiet. Mrs Darcy made the connection just now when she saw you two. I suppose she'll tell Mr Darcy but no-one else needs to know. Why not just do what you came to do and ignore this little thing unless someone brings it up? Just be very, very careful, Bates is still talkative, and one of the Pemberley maids even more so, a buxom, fresh-faced blonde called Pauline. And Lady de Bourgh's personal maid is trying to find out things. She cannot be trusted.'

By now they had reached the back entrance to the house, where the deliveries were made. Nick hoped they'd manage to enter the house unseen but he made sure to look as frank as ever, skulking would only cause trouble. If they encountered someone they'd just have to postpone the private moment Mrs Annesley wanted, just for half an hour or however long it took for her to choose a room for the maids to ready.

Fortunately, they did not run into Mrs Reynolds, who did seem to have an uncanny instinct to stumble upon interesting or embarrassing situations. Not this time, though, and Nick decided to seek out the butler to tell him about Mrs Darcy's instructions regarding the sleeping arrangements of their new guests. Mrs Reynolds would ask too many questions and Nick expected her to have some solid judgements on the subject of adultery.

Five minutes later, Nick took Mrs Annesley to an empty room in the servants' quarters and closed the door. He sat on the bed, leaving the single chair for the lady, for Mrs Annesley was just as much a lady as Mrs Reynolds and Mrs Eliot were. They worked for a living but had not been raised for it, otherwise Mr Bennet would not have been attracted to Mrs Annesley, he could never fall in love with a dumb or coarse woman. Well, not anymore, if rumour was to be believed Mrs Darcy's mother was at least one of those things. Too bad, really, that she hadn't come along, Nick would have loved to get a glimpse of Mrs Bennet just to know what Mrs Darcy's mother was like. But now, Mrs Annesley needed him.

'I didn't have an idea what I was getting myself in to, and I'm sure Mr Bennet wasn't either. When we first met we liked each other, talked a lot, mostly in the library but sometimes during dinner or when Mr Fielding played his first concerts in the Darcy drawing-room. They even invited me to sit with the family because Mr Bennet liked me, someone closer to his age, you see.

Then one day I was having a really bad time of it because my husband had taken a turn for the worse, so I sought diversion in my needlework. I can forget everything when I'm busy, which is why I need to be here, I have to be able to continue my piece, I will need it in the weeks to come to be strong for my husband and children. That time, Mr Bennet noticed I was feeling down and he asked me so kindly I broke down and told him everything. He comforted me with perfect propriety, but I'm afraid that is when a spark flew and lit something inside me, for he was so concerned and sweet, I'd never seen that in a man.'

How could that be? Hadn't it been the talk of the Darcy household staff in London how Mrs Annesley's beloved husband was slipping from life? How could it be that she now said he had never been kind to her?

His expression must have betrayed his doubt, for she explained, and in such a way that no-one in the Darcy household would have recognised the husband she described for the Mr Annesley they'd imagined.

'My husband used to be a dashing fellow, Fowler, and when I was still very young and very naïve I fell head-over-heels in love with him. He was a second son and a navy officer on his way up, and yet my parents didn't approve of his blustering ways. They said he was no good for a girl like me, but I decided to marry him anyway, against their advice. I'd been raised to be a Mrs Darcy or a Mrs Manners, or even a Mrs Fielding, my parents would have embraced a talented, sophisticated man even if he had been from a lower class.

But I chose a different fate with my eyes open and followed my beloved husband to Chatham. We didn't live well, and my carefully groomed manners and talents were left unused as he was out at sea, making a living, while I stayed behind taking care of our little house at first, and our children as they came one by one. I still got to sew but just clothing and bedding, no embroidery with costly silk yarn, it was sturdy linen and cheap thread for me, and darning until nothing was left of a garment but rags fit only for cleaning. And cleaning, cooking and washing took so much time, there were but few moments for myself. I did teach our five children, boys and girls, their letters and as much history, geography, French and literature as I could.'

Though Nick wanted to observe that his mother had also worked hard all her life, that most people had to work hard with little time to spare, he did not. He supposed his entire family had always known hard work, whereas Mrs Annesley had been raised a lady and had probably expected an easier life. But she was making a bit much of something he considered completely normal. Still, this was her moment and he kept his peace. He merely offered a slight observation on something that truly surprised him.

'But Mrs Annesley, you say you fell head-over-heels in love, did that love just disappear?'

'My husband was very passionate, and I do think he truly loved me even then, he'd just never learned how to express his love in any way resembling tenderness. He merely lay with me when he could before he had to go back to sea, and I thought that was all there was to it so I bore with it and merely tried to limit the number of children that resulted.'

Despite being a bit shocked at Mrs Annesley's frankness towards someone she hardly knew, Nick wasn't a favourite with the ladies for nothing, he knew exactly what moved a woman, and this was very important to the London housekeeper so he merely nodded encouragingly and let her get it out, so to speak.

'Then he fell ill, and with his physically demanding occupation it soon became impossible for him to pursue his career in the navy. He was granted an administrative function and for a few years he still provided an income and was home every evening and on Sundays, proving himself a dedicated father to our children, and a fine husband as well. We started to get to know each other better, his weak spells left him at my mercy ever more often and that gave him a measure of respect for me. But he still insisted on appearing the strong one towards the rest of the world, he remained dominant to the woman who had adored him once but who had come to look upon him as a captor, shackling her to a life barely worth living. I'd been the darling of my parents and my peers, Fowler, and now I was nothing but a brood mare and a housekeeper on a very small allowance. I knew he was going to deteriorate ever further, and though he ignored that certainty as well as the disturbing signals that another lapse was imminent, I started to prepare myself for the rest of my life, making sure it would be more interesting than it had been for countless years. That may sound selfish to you, but years of mind-numbing drudgery had left me desperate to improve my lot.

With the help of the public library I sharpened my accomplishments, and when the moment came that he could no longer provide and was discharged on a tiny pension, I advertised to find a position as a governess in London. I got the position and we moved to London, but the care for my husband and children proved too much on top of a demanding position. Remember, I was still struggling to regain my former competence in those attainments I had been unable to keep up in a poor home, like playing the piano, drawing, and yes, even needlework. The world hadn't stopped turning when my life had come to a grinding halt in that harbour town, new techniques were constantly discovered and I took care to learn them all.

I was not going to risk getting dragged down to the workhouse with my children, I was going to work my way up in the pecking order of governesses until I had a place in a major family, with a matching salary. So with my first wages I hired a widowed friend to take care of my family, by now my husband could still mind the children but nothing more, she did the work and he oversaw it. He accepted my taking care of the income, it was that or living off charity, which he would not have survived for long with his condition.'

Nick was intrigued, why tell him this? Well, probably because she felt ashamed of cheating on her husband when she'd let everyone believe there was a deep affection between her and him. Which there might be, at a certain level, though obviously not on the subject of physical intimacy, of which Nick still considered himself somewhat of an expert. Mrs Annesley continued.

'In my second position, living with a well-to-do family to teach their two daughters the finer aspects of being a true lady, I spent all my spare time regaining my faded accomplishments, and the family's boys' tutor proved eager to teach someone actually willing to learn, so I added quite a few other skills, less ladylike ones, to improve my value as a governess for younger boys as well as girls of all ages. I taught that family's daughters until they went to school, then with their parents' references I took the next step up. I barely saw my husband and children but I sent them all the money I earned, which was enough to provide my children the education they needed to avoid slipping down the social ladder even further than I had. It took me another four years to get to where I am now, and I am so afraid to lose it all because a gentleman proved too kind to resist.'

Well, Nick had tried his best not to judge the woman sitting in front of him, but if there was anything his experience with ladies had taught him it was that no-one committed adultery without wanting to. It was not fair to pin it on a man's drives only, women had those as much if maybe less intensely. But fortunately, Mrs Annesley did realise that.

'I must have been aching for a little love for years, do not mistake me, my husband has become very mild and kind but that's with plain weakness, if he'd still been physically superior he'd still have felt like he could rule me. Mr Bennet was kind to me because that is how he is underneath his layer of sarcasm, his way to protect a good heart from his own mistakes in life. After that first spark there was no stopping it, we talked for hours, he told me all about his own poor choices and his resulting loneliness. We didn't kiss until his second visit, but then it was a small step towards seeking out my former room. I'm still not sorry we did it, only if I'm to be dismissed for it.'

They wouldn't. Would they? Mrs Darcy had not been pleased, but she'd taken Nick's advice to be lenient easily enough. And Mr Darcy? He'd always given his staff a fair chance, if he was really put out he'd give his London housekeeper a warning to break off the affair. And his father-in-law as much so, he wasn't a hypocrite.

'I cannot believe they'd let you go, Mrs Annesley. Mr Darcy may seem like your husband, dominating his much younger wife, but you have witnessed yourself how much influence she has on him.'

'Yes, she had Janine dismissed.'

'Oh come now, Mrs Annesley, you were there and I wasn't, but I've heard enough from Simon that I know that woman got no more than she deserved. You can in no way compare your own situation to hers. You've always shown Mr Darcy and Mrs Darcy the proper respect, and you've never bullied or threatened the other staff. Has either of them ever treated you anything other than fairly?'

'I stand corrected, Fowler, you are right, they have not. Before I was given the position of housekeeper Mr Darcy offered to help me set up my own business selling my art. He convinced me it was art, and ordered those two works to show to his visitors, to help me gain customers. You are right, I need to have more trust in the people around me. Please don't tell them what I said.'

'Even if I were in the position to do so I wouldn't, Mrs Annesley. I suppose I don't think they'll make much of this thing with Mr Bennet, they seem very good at ignoring little intrigues as long as they don't hurt anyone. Please take heart, Mrs Annesley, and try to enjoy a few days of freedom before the real hardship starts. I'm very sorry to hear that your husband is doing so badly.'

'May I be perfectly honest with you, Fowler? I know you can keep your peace, you've done so for years and I suppose you still do.'

Although Nick didn't like to hear that, her connection to Mr Bennet suggested she might know of Anne and Nick and maybe even about Simon and Frederick, he felt almost compelled to give the poor lady a chance to clear her conscience with someone not too close to her. But... as with making love, intimacy did come with a price.

'If you'll call me Nick, Mrs Annesley. Being addressed by my family name reminds me of being trodden upon.'

She nodded, the days in which she didn't rate an honorific were probably long past, but she'd remember the feeling of being a nameless servant, though frankly, Nick didn't have a clue how lowly ranked governesses were treated.

'I understand. Though it seems you are on the rise, Nick, even Mrs Darcy was rather familiar with you just now and she is always scrupulously fair to her staff.'

Nick merely nodded his acknowledgement, there was nothing to gain by explaining.

'I admit it is difficult for me to call anyone by their first name, I wasn't raised that way. But I didn't do too badly, did I?'

'You did perfectly fine, Mrs Annesley. You are a very competent woman, I suppose not everybody appreciated that.'

That was Nick's opening to encourage her to relieve her conscience, it was what she wanted of him and he did think he was the most suitable person to confide in. For her.

'You are more right than even I knew for a long time. I blamed myself for years, for not loving my husband as I ought to, and when he got sick and turned out rather agreeable I blamed myself even more. But the fact was, Nick, that I was too good for him. Seriously. He could have married any pretty girl with enough sense to run a household and she would have made him happier than I did. Eventually I found out that life should be about more than merely making a living, but by then it was too late, I was shackled to five children and a man who couldn't even provide for his family. And yet in a way he helped me improve my lot, though without being aware of it himself. Because he was at home to keep our children out of trouble, and to direct the help I paid for, I had the opportunity to get my life back, to start improving myself again, to learn and to teach, and to spend time on my art.

He hung on to provide our children with a start in life, and now they have all turned out well he can finally let go. I am thankful for that, and though I am sad to see him fight for each breath I am not heartbroken, Nick. The thought of losing him does not fill me with grief.'

She took one deep breath and then said something she had probably been struggling with for months, if not years.

'It will be a relief to see him go, Nick. I do not love him, have not loved him since our life together turned out such a deception. I suppose I'm thankful we eventually became friends, and I will mourn him as a friend. But not as the love of my life. Am I a really bad person, to look forward to no longer being a nurse to someone who should have been the love of my life?'

As passionately in love with Anne as Nick was, he did remember his life before his fall, and he'd often wondered why people wanted so desperately to become one with their partners in marriage. Why couldn't they just remain themselves and enjoy love as it came, in whatever shape it presented itself? Why did it have to be with one person only, and forever?

'I don't think so, Mrs Annesley, but you know my reputation. Why should men have all the opportunities? I just think it's sad you only got the chance to improve yourself when your husband no longer could, why didn't he let you be who you wanted to be from the first?'

Of course that was not exactly what she meant, but that was even harder to put into words. He did try.

'We're all just fallible people, Mrs Annesley. You have taken excellent care of your husband, you did what you could despite not loving him. We all want to love forever but how many of us really get that chance? I understand your feelings, and I'm pretty sure even Mr Annesley would. Have you ever talked about this? Does he know how unhappy you used to be, and how you held him responsible?'

'I did tell him I was happy to be the provider, and he knows I no longer love him romantically. But I'm afraid he thinks it is due to his lack of prowess because of the consumption, when those drives that he lost were the main thing to come between us. Isn't that ironic? I've never dared explain what I really felt because I was afraid he wouldn't understand. And feel hurt. He did suffer a great deal, you know.'

'Do you think that believing he lost your love because of his illness doesn't hurt? Shouldn't you at least try, give him a chance to understand? Wouldn't that make parting with you much easier on him? At the very least he'll know you're not afraid to go on by yourself.'

The middle-aged lady bowed her head and thought for a bit.

'You are wise beyond your reputation, and your years, Nick. I'm glad I came to you with this, I had a feeling you'd understand because of the way you love. Well, loved. But I hoped you'd give me some kind of absolution of guilt, not a confirmation of my selfishness followed by a way to make up for it whilst my husband is still alive. For I'm afraid I never even thought of what he might think, I just thought of myself, which proves I am indeed a bad person, or at least very selfish. Thinking of it from his perspective I am certain I at least need to try to explain, it will make him feel bad about the past but much better about the future. Our future, the children's and mine. And he will know what he has meant for the children, they have come to know both their parents very well which they wouldn't have if he'd risen to a high rank in the navy. I think maybe he will believe me when I tell him my love got lost in his control of my life, not in his letting go of that. Thank you, Nick, I will talk to him and let him know what he has meant to me and especially to our children. I suppose I'm finally afraid he will die too soon, he must hold on to hear me out.'

Without the slightest twinge of his conscience Nick lied to her. He had no idea how Mr Annesley was holding on, the poor man had to be really bad to have been given up on, but it wouldn't do to have her rush back to London and kill Mr Darcy's horses in the process.

'He will, Mrs Annesley. If he managed to keep death at bay for a decade to raise his children, a few more days to say goodbye to you will be child's play. And imagine how glad he will be to know you won't fall apart after he is gone.'

She wanted to believe that, and why shouldn't she? Despite having been rather selfish she had cared for her sick husband for at least a decade, and she had ascertained her children growing up well. Mr Bennet would understand her feeling of having been shackled to a joyless life, he was of her class and probably saw it as her right to do whatever she pleased. Nick didn't have to understand to make her feel a little better and besides, he was learning to enjoy that lifestyle himself. If he'd known as a child that some people had all the comforts without having to work for them he would have had a hard time settling in any of his former positions.

'Thank you very much, Nick, I feel much better. I'll be brave and face whatever is coming. Starting with Mrs Reynolds, shall we go and find her?'

When Frederick and Anne entered the drawing-room together, Darcy already knew what they were coming to tell him. The first hour with his aunt, Mr Collins and Lord Chester had been rather pleasant, even Georgie and Fielding had exerted all their mental strength to refrain from playing and joined the conversation. Lord Chester had proven his unblemished upbringing by entertaining his audience with delightful anecdotes and innocuous chitchat about several severe storms he had experienced in his school days. Aunt Catherine enjoyed the opportunity to recall her own glory days and how much colder winters had been then. She had accepted Lord Chester's superior status without trying to find out more about him, but he managed to incorporate various hints of his descent in his stories, in the shape of illustrious personages one might recognise as the Queen Mother, and places like St James', which he didn't mention by name but were so unique their description should ring a bell with everyone. But if aunt Catherine noticed, it didn't show in her behaviour, which was as perfect as Darcy had ever seen it. She could suddenly listen to someone else speaking for as much as a whole ten minutes, and whenever she related an anecdote of her own it was actually to the point and in some cases even rather funny. Darcy had never heard some of them, they were probably below her dignity to tell someone as much younger as he was. It was a side of his aunt he was delighted to discover, and hearing much more about his mother was also a pleasure. Mr Collins was mostly rather quiet, understandable in such august company, but like Georgiana and Fielding he did answer questions whenever Lord Chester asked them, and he managed to do so in such a way that made him seem rather sensible. Lord Chester was really good at drawing people out, which of course Simon had already experienced and warned them against repeatedly, but he also somehow helped people show the best of themselves.

After they'd had tea, Georgie and Fielding could no longer control themselves and they lured Lord Chester and Mr Collins to the Clementi, where they played Lord Chester's favourite duets. And some sonatas, pieces Fielding called suitable only for bragging about one's virtuosity. Well, he certainly managed that, Darcy still couldn't believe how fast his brother-in-law's fingers could move over the keys without working themselves into knots. It had to be the instrument as well, it was obviously a very superior piano that was finally done justice being played by a true master. Although Georgie was doing incredibly well, too, she had her teacher with her constantly, and that made for rapid improvement.

Darcy had seated himself and his aunt near the window to keep an eye out for Elizabeth's return, he really wanted aunt Catherine to see his beloved return from her riding lesson, in her split skirts and hopefully side by side with a mere guard.

But things were to go altogether differently. Whilst his aunt scraped her throat to say, 'I suppose you want your little lady present when I give you your mother's letters?' Darcy could see a carriage approaching from the direction of the road, and he recognised his own London conveyance immediately, probably because of the slow team pulling it. Of course he was obliged to reply his aunt, and he did, missing the moment when the carriage passed by the Pemberley front entrance. His moment of distraction made his answer a tiny bit too frank.

'Yes, please, aunt Catherine. It will not be easy for me, you see, I still hate George Wickham like no-one else in this world. I need Elizabeth to be there.'

Where was she, his beloved? He stole a look to where the road disappeared behind the front of the house towards the stables and indeed thought he could see four people approaching the house. That had to be them, and they would certainly meet whoever was in that carriage. Though Darcy couldn't think of anyone brazen enough to take it besides his father-in-law.

'Darcy, you're miles away! Don't you think it's sinful to set your sights so much on a fallible human being, a very fallible human being I may add? She is rude, unsophisticated and ... is that her, over there? What is she wearing? One moment it's a dress, and then it isn't! You said they were going for a riding lesson... Are you expecting more visitors? I do believe that is a carriage approaching your wife, though a rather small, unsightly one.'

'It's my London carriage, aunt Catherine. It's meant to be small to be able to navigate even the narrowest bridges and take the sheerest turns. And yes, I know it is very sinful to adore a fellow human being like I do Elizabeth. Still, I've never been so happy in my entire life. And I do not hesitate to say that she has made me a better man, despite her frankness and lack of formal education. Maybe even because of them, maybe I needed someone with the courage to tell me when I was being overbearing and judgemental.'

'Darcy! How can you say such a thing of yourself, you have always been my measure of manliness. Calm, dignified, handsome, you were always the perfect gentleman, only a low woman would prefer a chattering nincompoop over a man of your regal bearing.'

'I was also arrogant and disdainful to those I considered beneath me. To those I didn't know well. Among whom my dearest Elizabeth. It may shock you to hear I'm not her only admirer, aunt Catherine, but I can assure you she has captured the imagination of several gentlemen besides myself. Ask Lord Chester, or Mr Fielding. Or better, yet, ask your own brother.'

'Oh, I know what my dear brother thinks of your little wife. And the papers cannot seem to stop singing her praise, if only one of those reporters had troubled to follow you here, that would show her, wearing such dreadfully inappropriate skirts for the world to see. Though they'd most likely make something up to excuse her for being dressed like a farmer's wife, I seem to be the only one able to see through her. Well, I suppose I shall have to keep my objections to myself and spend my energy in a more useful way. Darcy, I beseech you to keep the dignity of the Darcy name firmly in mind when I hand you my brother-in-law's letters this afternoon. You may not value your name now, but who is to say you won't regret any rash actions?'

That didn't promise much good, if his aunt's attitude meant anything there would be bad news from the letters. Would he acknowledge Wickham as his brother? A man he despised? Give him part of their father's inheritance? Fitzwilliam hadn't gotten more from uncle Spencer than Wickham had gotten from Darcy so far, much less, in fact, considering that Darcy's father had already paid his education, and Darcy had bought off the living and paid off his debts several times, besides buying him a commission and a promotion. And a special licence to shackle him to Lydia Bennet as quickly as a willing priest could be found.

'Darcy, you have always been my favourite nephew and I care about you. Please do not feel obliged to pay for your father's mistakes, however despicable he behaved he did hide his adultery well, no-one need ever discover the blemish he brought on his house. Please leave well enough alone.'

Outside, apparently the party of four had split up, Manners and Anne moving on towards the house, Elizabeth and Fowler just turning back around the corner where the carriage had disappeared. That almost proved Elizabeth's father was in that carriage, it had to be him, but where then were Mrs Bennet and Mary? There was nothing to do but wait for the riders to return to the drawing-room, which might take a while for Anne would not want to come into her mother's presence in a riding skirt. And if her father had just arrived, Elizabeth would be even later, she would want to see him settled before she changed.

But what if something had happened to Mr Bennet's carriage, and Mary and especially Mrs Bennet were travelling with him? Mrs Bennet and aunt Catherine in the same drawing-room, that was a recipe for disaster! With Prince George as the laughing third, not to mention Mr Bennet himself. Those two would have a field day, but his beloved would be mortified with everything her mother said and did. How to solve this? Prince George would leave tomorrow, but if aunt Catherine found out they were having a family gathering she'd want to stay to meet her brother.

'Thank you for your kindness, aunt Catherine. I will not sacrifice my family's name to oblige Lieutenant Wickham, you may rest assured of that.'

The door opened and Manners entered, with Anne, the latter still in riding skirts and with a bit of a colour. They were coming straight towards him, Anne not even shying from her mother's obvious presence, this had to be bad indeed. Manners' expression seemed to indicate the same thing, and he gestured to Darcy they wanted to join him and his aunt. Well, in Darcy's opinion he and his aunt had exhausted the subject of George Wickham by now, and his cousin and his friend were welcome to interrupt, so he nodded.

Manners was as polite as ever and bowed slightly to his mother-in-law, then immediately spoke up. Like Lord Chester, he had enough self-confidence for two, he was not going to talk pleasantries with aunt Catherine whilst there was an important announcement to make. He didn't even adapt his language.

'Darcy, Mr Bennet just arrived and your beloved is seeing him in. She took Nick to see to his travelling companion, who has some burning questions about a certain work of art destined to grace your dining room.'

It took him just an instant to deduce who this companion was and why Manners took the trouble to hide her identity and even gender. Mrs Annesley with Mr Bennet? On a four-day trip? The implications were obvious, but did his heart really jump for joy as first reaction, hearing his father-in-law exposed as an adulterer?

'Mrs Bennet and Miss Mary Bennet?'

That was all he managed to say in his superhuman effort to keep from laughing hysterically with relief over his mother-in-law's likely absence as well as rage with anger at Mr Bennet's brazenness.

Anne drew all their attention to herself by observing, 'They weren't there, just the artist looking for guidance. Better prepare to take a moment this afternoon for a meeting, there was a certain urgency to the question.'

The relief won, even if Mrs Bennet arrived next week as planned Mrs Gardiner would be there to keep her out of the worst trouble and Prince George wouldn't get to see her at all. And aunt Catherine didn't seem at all suspicious who this artist was, in fact she seemed totally unaware of everything that had been said so far. Instead she was staring at her daughter as if the latter had sprouted horns and a tail, and Anne had noticed and was facing her with defiance. She'd come in without changing on purpose, to annoy her mother by wearing a riding skirt to the drawing-room!

'Thank you for telling me straight away, Manners, Anne. I would have worried if you had taken the time to change.'

But aunt Catherine wasn't thankful at all, she was working herself up to an outright frenzy of righteousness, undoubtedly over her daughter wearing the same split skirts as Darcy's country-bred wife. Surprisingly, Anne seemed to remain perfectly calm, though obviously planning to confront her mother fearlessly. As she'd done before in Hunsford.

'Anne, you go change this instant, what will Lord Chester say when he sees you wearing those...' Aunt Catherine could not find the right words to describe the loathed garment.

'We call them riding skirts, mother, they're very practical. Lord Chester has seen me wear them countless times already, whenever we ride out in fact.'

Anne's calm was admirable, ignoring her mother's authoritative tone completely, angering her mother even more. But Anne wasn't done at all, instead she poured a little oil on the flames of her mother's anger.

'I often wear them at home as well, a different pair of course, it wouldn't do to smell of horse. You read about the wedding, didn't you? I got married in a silk pair, they were just beautiful. You know what, I'll wear them this afternoon, they're not too fine for the occasion since Lord Chester is here.'

Aunt Catherine couldn't keep up with the succession of abominations and was still working out the first one.

'If you need to ride so badly instead of using a little phaeton like you used to have why can't you just ride in a dress like a proper lady? What does Mr Manners think of that? I'm sure he'd be thrilled to get you a nice little carriage of your own, and he certainly can afford it.'

'My dearest Anne can have anything she likes, Lady de Bourgh, and since she wanted to learn how to ride I bought her a beautiful horse. And though Peppermint bore that lady's saddle beautifully the one time we all wanted to try it, I suppose I didn't buy her as a lady's horse.'

Still she didn't get it, but Anne soon remedied that.

'I cannot ride a horse in a dress, mother, it would hardly be safe. And of what use would being driven around the country be? I ride for exercise, sitting on a carriage bench wouldn't do at all!'

'You mean to say you sit your horse like a man? Astride? Where Lord Chester can see you? Have you all gone insane? This is all the fault of your country-bumpkin wife, Darcy! First she turned your head until you lost all sense of propriety and dignity and let her do all those ludicrous things. And now she has ruined my daughter as well! You used to be such a sweet, tractable girl, my dear Anne, and look at you now, you're more like a gypsy! How can you allow your wife to make such a spectacle of herself, Mr Manners, I thought you had some good sense but it seems I was wrong altogether! I insist that you make her behave properly!'

And still Anne didn't lose her temper, at which Darcy determined not to be outdone by his cousin and ignore his aunt's slights towards Elizabeth. She was just jealous of the attention Elizabeth received from those aunt Catherine considered above a country-raised girl, she had no clue what fashionable people actually liked.

Manners merely laughed heartily, he was enjoying this hugely, he had never cared what people thought of his actions. Of course he wanted people to like him, but strangely, aunt Catherine did like him, even though he treated her much like Lord Chester did, with a kind of mild superiority that would enrage Darcy, had in fact put him out when Prince George had treated him that way, except it had been some time since the prince had done that. Somehow, aunt Catherine didn't even seem to notice, or more likely she was like Collins, bowing to those they considered superior and without the slightest real pride, the wish, nay need, to be treated respectfully by everyone. But then, Darcy also respected everyone else's wish to be treated with respect, even if they were significantly below him. Of course it had taken a harsh lesson to teach him that, or maybe not? Mrs Reynolds, Simon, and most of the other staff had always liked him and respected him.

'Lady Catherine de Bourgh!' sounded an imperative voice from somewhere in the neighbourhood of the piano. The music had stopped a few moments ago, when aunt Catherine had first raised her voice. It was obviously Prince George speaking, but this wasn't the affable prince they knew. This was George Augustus Frederick of Hanover, the Prince of Wales, facing down an unruly subject. He had probably been following the entire conversation and was now acting to shut up aunt Catherine to spare her daughter the agony of having to confront her mother, again.

The silence was deafening, still Manners was not impressed but merely amused, and Darcy found himself agreeing.

'Manners will not make your daughter behave properly, because she doesn't want to. Mrs Anne Manners wants to enjoy life, she wants to ride her horse astride, and she wants to jump fences and hunt foxes and fowl. She wants to ramble for hours, catch trout and play billiards. And when she is tired of her exertions she will sit in that chair over there and embroider flowers on a baby's dress, chatting with Mrs Darcy or listening to beautiful music. Until this fall. For then she will move to London with Mr Manners and she will brighten up my parties with her beauty and her intelligent conversation. She will be the centre of attention at Carlton House, and all the women will envy her the admiration of the men, and the men will envy Mr Manners for having won such a ravishing beauty. I will envy him, too, but I know she is happier with him because he offers her the life she wants, without reporters dogging her steps and especially without people telling her what to do or don't. And the person whose interference she would enjoy doing without most is you, Lady de Bourgh, so I'd appreciate it if you were to sit down right now and hold your peace or by God, I'll ignore my advisor's plea to keep a low profile and teach you a royal lesson you'll never forget.'

That was quite an eye-opener for the rest of them, the affable prince showing a totally different side of himself. In Anne's defence, but still...

Aunt Catherine was stunned by his sudden interference, but it did not seem as if she had gotten the most important point of his message.

'A baby's dress? Didn't I see you working on one when I first came in? Does that mean you are already with child, Anne? Am I going to be a grandmother so soon?'

'No mother, I've been married for less than a month. It's for Spencer's boy. Did you hear at all what Lord Chester said just now? He is not someone to trifle with, you know.'

'Oh I understood quite well, Anne, apparently the whole world has gone mad. Ladies riding astride and chasing foxes. I suppose this Carlton House in London is some venue where young people gad about in defiance of our Lord's commandments. But do not mistake me, Anne, you're no longer young by anyone's standards, and neither is Mr Manners. And Lord Chester looks like he should be long settled, not making eyes at another man's wife as if he's the...oh.'

Now aunt Catherine took a good look at Lord Chester, and she sank down into the closest chair.

'Carlton House, I recognise the name now. And you do look familiar, though decidedly less hefty than some of the less proper drawings in the papers want to make one believe. More dignified than I'd expected, to be honest. And yet you say my daughter and Mrs Darcy should be allowed to do as they please. Well, I disagree, but I know when I have lost and will bow before my betters.'

And indeed she did keep from talking at all the rest of that morning, and surprisingly without giving the appearance of sulking. Instead she listened to the music and watched how Anne worked on her little dress whilst talking quietly with Manners. Those two really did look like a happy newly-wed couple, at least aunt Catherine would leave Pemberley in the solid conviction that her daughter had not made a rash decision there, even though she'd failed to ask her mother's invaluable advice before committing herself.

Prince George totally ignored aunt Catherine, which she did not seem to resent at all, proving to Darcy that their expectations had been correct, she was like Mr Collins and would not be her usual abrasive self before the heir to the throne but rather bow before him quite naturally. It made him even more proud of Elizabeth, she was herself under any circumstance, had been herself even when dining with Prince George and Mrs Fitzherbert at Carlton House. Hopefully she would have at least a chance to enjoy herself despite her cousin and her father being here as well as aunt Catherine. Maybe he should bring out the cards for a few games, that would keep the conversation from taking a wrong turn.


End file.
